Little Folks (December 1884) Part 13

Some of the readers of these pages, I dare say, saw King Tawhiao, the Maori chief, who visited England in the summer of 1884. If so, they could not have failed to notice the curious designs that were traced upon his face. These scroll-like marks were the result of an operation which lasted for six weeks, and which was attended with extreme pain.

The process is called tattooing, and a person who has undergone it is said to be tattooed. It is practised very extensively amongst the natives of New Zealand and the South Sea Islands generally, women as well as men, whose bodies are covered with patterns of an elaborate, or fantastic, or picturesque description, though sometimes the design is of a comparatively simple sort. Nearly every British sailor has tattoo-marks on his arm--an anchor, s.h.i.+p, initials, or what not--and unless I am much mistaken, some of the lads now perusing these sentences have now and then ornamented (or disfigured) their hands and arms with similar signs.

In New Zealand the tattoo-marks run in unbroken lines, while in the South Sea Islands they are in dotted lines. The pain of the process in both cases is most acute, especially in the former. In New Zealand the figures are formed by driving little chisels, which have been dipped in some colouring-matter, through the skin. In the South Sea Islands a series of punctures are made with a fish-bone, which is, however, sometimes used as a needle. Every variety of design is employed--trees, flowers, animals, weapons, and so forth. It is considered a disgrace for the person being tattooed to give way to any sign of suffering, but as the pain is so exquisite, cries of torture occasionally rise to the lips. In order, therefore, to drown such cries, and so preserve the patient's reputation for bravery, it is usual for a number of his female friends to sing songs throughout the operation. Some tattooers acquire great skill in their art, and will form a design which shall be beautiful, elaborate, or otherwise, according to the fee. But in any case it is well to deal liberally with the artist, lest he should allow the chisel to slip "accidentally on purpose," and produce a permanent disfigurement instead of a fine design. The colouring-matter in which the tool is dipped is a thick mixture, prepared by rubbing down charcoal in oil or water. The pattern appears black on a brown skin, and dark blue on the skin of a white man, and is of course indelible.

Since the process is so painful, why do the Maoris and others submit themselves to it? They look upon the tattooing as a kind of personal adornment; and, you know, there is no accounting for tastes. The ways of savage and civilised races are past finding out. Some wear articles in their noses, ears, and lips; others flatten the heads of their babies.

Chinese ladies' feet are compressed to such an extent that they wobble when they walk. The Zulus and other peoples arrange their hair in the most extraordinary styles. These peculiar fas.h.i.+ons are no doubt indulged in under the impression that they add to the beauty of those who adopt them. And so we find it in the case of tattooing, though the custom is also supposed--in the case of men--to mark the transition from youth to manhood, being performed usually at that period. To a small extent it is also believed to be employed as a badge of mourning or sign of respect for a departed friend. The tattoo is regarded as an honour, and is reserved for free men only, slaves in New Zealand not being permitted to undergo the operation. Oddly enough, those who are accustomed to see tattooed people think that natives without it look bare and "unfinished." Tattooing is said to be on the wane. If it be so, it is quite possible that Macaulay's famous New Zealander may present none of those marks which distinguished the features of King Tawhiao.

THE CHILDREN'S OWN GARDEN IN DECEMBER.

The present month undoubtedly presents fewer floral attractions than any other in the whole year. Everything is in a torpid state of existence, and the combined forces of frost, snow, wind, and rain render December unpleasant both indoors and out. The only kinds of vegetation which seem to flourish just now are the insignificant, but wonderfully beautiful, mosses and lichens which everywhere clothe the rock and tree and hedge with their diverse forms and hues. Unlike flowering plants, they do not require culture of any sort, their beauty being wholly of a more or less microscopic nature, and their nourishment is derived from the atmosphere rather than by means of roots.

It is during such dull and lifeless months as December that our attention becomes more engrossed with individual floral beauty, than it does when the display is both extensive and varied. To obtain even a few flowers at this time of the year much previous care and attention must have been expended. Where one plant is detected in making more headway than others its flowering-period may be greatly facilitated by carefully guarding it from the evil effects of excessive rains and strong winds; this may be easily done by placing an inverted bell-gla.s.s over the plants, invariably lifting this off on fine and warm days, and whenever there is no fear of damage from sudden winds or rains. Stifling hardy plants by keeping them in a confined atmosphere, whether indoors or out, is the worst possible plan to follow in order to procure early blooms.

An important feature in connection with next summer's display must now be considered, and the preliminary arrangements carried out as far as possible during the present month; it consists in the formation of new shapes of beds, and a general reconstruction of design. But, as we have previously intimated, it is most undesirable to have a small garden chopped up into a number of beds, as then the greater part of s.p.a.ce will be needlessly taken up by walks. Too much uniformity is just as undesirable as an excess of irregularities. No change of any sort should be carried out without well considering whether such would be for the better, and also whether the garden in its altered state would yield a correspondingly greater amount of real pleasure, tantamount to the time and trouble involved in effecting the change. Presupposing that some change or other is to be done, great care must be taken not to destroy the roots of various perennials, which may be hidden beneath the surface, as many a rare and beautiful plant is in this manner often destroyed.

The amount of planting to be done now is by no means extensive, but it should only be done in dry weather. Narcissus, crocus, hyacinths, and tulips should be all in the ground by the end of this month at the very latest, and will produce bloom in very desirable succession to those planted a month or two previously. A surfacing of cocoanut-fibre refuse, which may be obtained from most seedsmen or nurserymen, will be found an excellent protection against frosts, and also against the ravages of slugs. The curious roots of ranunculus should be at once planted; these roots consist of small, fleshy, spindle-shaped claws, which are united at the crown. In planting, the claws should point _downwards_. Few late spring flowering plants excel the ranunculus in richness of colour; and to be grown with any degree of success a rich soil is essential, one of light loam, leaf-mould, and spent hot-bed materials forming the best compost. A distance of six inches apart each way, and a depth of about two inches will suffice for these plants, and a warm sunny spot is most suitable. The roots are very cheap, a dozen of various colours costing only threepence or fourpence.

Anemones const.i.tute a race of very pretty, delicate, and showy spring flowers, having varieties of nearly every hue, both single and double, but the former cla.s.s is much preferable. They thrive best in good loamy soil, which has been well manured the year previous to planting. Roots should be obtained and planted--at about 4 in. apart--as soon as possible, the sooner the better, so that the plants will be st.u.r.dy and well grown before the very severe weather commences. Roots cost about nine-pence or one s.h.i.+lling per dozen. Unless the charming lily of the valley be already an inmate of our Children's Own Garden, a few "crowns"

should be now purchased and placed in almost any part of the garden, but thorough drainage is most essential. Whilst thriving in any ordinary soil, they produce very fine bloom when in a rich porous compost. The roots should be taken up, divided, and replanted separately once in every four years.

A RACE FOR A CAT.

A FAIRY STORY.

"Too small! too small!" so the birds sang, so the roses whispered, so the bees hummed.

"She will creep in at the window," said the mother, who was kneeling beside a little child. "Only a small child can do that."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "A CAT WAS LYING ... UPON A CHAIR" (_p. 363_).]

But the window shut down suddenly with a bang, and the house to which it belonged began to move away, slowly at first, then quicker and quicker, until it was out of sight altogether. The child began to sob, and said--

"Nan will run after it."

Ah! such a flutter among the roses, and such a twittering amongst the birds, whilst the bees hummed--

"Too small, too small!

She should be tall, If she would catch the house at all."

And the birds sang--

"She must grow, We all do know; And that's a process very slow."

"It will be years," said the mother, "before she grows tall."

"Pooh! porridge!" said a toy dog that was lying on the ground.

The mother turned round.

The little dog was standing upright, and had p.r.i.c.ked up his ears.

"Porridge, porridge!" he said, and he kept saying it over so many times that at last the mother thought there must be something in it.

II.

So the mother made some porridge, and Nan began to eat it.

At the first plateful she could look over the table; at the second she reached up to her mother's shoulder; at the third she was taller than her mother.

"Stop! stop!" said the mother, as Nan began upon the fourth plate; "you'll be a giantess; and your legs are so thin, I am afraid they will break in two. You look as if you were on stilts."

"One must have long legs," said Nan, "in order to run fast. It was the woolly dog that thought of it," she added, and she would have stooped down to pat the toy dog, with its red morocco collar, but she was so high up that she found it a difficult matter to bend down. "I am as stiff as a poker," said she.

The woolly dog, however, understood what she wanted, and he jumped upon a chair, then upon the table, and finally into Nan's arms.

She would have given him some porridge, but her mother said--

"No; if he should grow as tall as you, we should not know what to do with him."

Then the little dog laughed.

"Perhaps he will run away with the spoon," said Nan.

But no; he was an honest little dog, and did not think of doing anything of the kind.

III.

On the opposite side of the house was an old gentleman in a velvet cap.

He had a paper in his hand, and was trying to teach something to a boy who was on the other side of the trellis. But the boy was not attending to him, though he kept his eyes fixed upon the paper.

No; he was muttering--