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Social Vulnerability to Disasters, Second Edition ©2013, CRC Press/Taylor and Francis LLC
28
explain and predict the world around us. History, the physical environment, social
institutions and social relations all shape these worldviews and through them affect our
perceptions of hazards and disasters and influence preparedness, mitigation, and response
and recovery efforts. Although these factors also shape formal theory, in formal theory we

29
consciously define, explicitly state, and systematically test assumptions, concepts and
propositions.
In the 1990s, emergency managers, social scientists, and those affected by disasters and
hazards began to question the then dominant view of disasters as caused almost
exclusively by geophysical processes such as tornadoes, earthquakes and floods. This led to
a shift in how theorists framed hazards and disasters (as primarily natural and unexpected
events) to framing them as expected outcomes of complex human-environment
interactions. Hurricane Katrina and the landslides in La Paz demonstrated that risk and
vulnerability are not distributed equally within or across societies. Examples like this
prompted the revision of theories of hazards and disasters to include the concept of social
vulnerability. The concept of social vulnerability draws from a number of sources, but in
general, considers individual and collective susceptibility to natural events and the capacity
to respond to those events. Conflict and critical theories explain how differential access to
resources and power create social conditions and inequalities that lead to different levels of
social vulnerability and outcomes of hazardous events among individuals, groups,
communities, and nations.
In conflict theory, inequality is viewed as an inherent feature of the social structure, thus it
is important to keep in mind the agency of individuals and groups when examining how
vulnerable individuals and communities view and respond to hazards and disasters within
a given social structure. The political ecology framework, an application of general systems
theory to human-environment interactions, provides a powerful mechanism to analyze the
complex interplay of variables that result in disasters. Finally, the concept of sustainability
forces us to consider the real costs of the inequalities and inequities that result from a
worldview of humans over nature and points to the value of local knowledge in creating
sustainable interactions with the environment. The concept of human agency, combined
with participatory approaches to research guided by a theoretical lens that includes
humans as an essential part of the natural environment, creates disaster planning that
decreases social vulnerability and promotes sustainable human-environment interactions.
Teaching Suggestions
Theory can be a daunting topic to students and appear overly abstract and irrelevant to
their desire to master the content of a new field of study. One way to help them discover
the importance of theory is to show them how everything that we do in our daily lives is
guided by our shared cultural understandings or common sense theories about the world.
You might begin by asking students to discuss a statement attributed to the linguist John
Gumperz that “You can’t collect seashells on the beach without a theory.” Why not? This

30
discussion can show them how we need a clear idea of what a seashell is (concept), how we
can tell seashell from a rock or a feather (classifications) and where we are likely to find
them (propositions of relationships) to complete this seemingly simple task. From there
you can discuss how these common sense theories, though they may contain valuable local
knowledge, are largely unconscious and their assumptions may not be tested. But they
guide our actions nonetheless. The task of the scientist is to develop, apply, and test formal
theory. Scientific theories may be derived from a variety of sources including formalizing
and testing theories derived from local knowledge of disasters. The example of high water
markers from tsunamis in Japan shows the cost of valuing scientific theories and
knowledge automatically over local knowledge.
Another way to show the relevance of theory is to ask students to analyze the examples of
hazards and disasters included in this chapter or a more recent disaster such as the series
of tornadoes that moved across Indiana, Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama, Georgia, and
North Carolina in late February and March 2012 using different theoretical perspectives.
The websites included in the resources section can be a useful guide for discussion. You
might ask students to go online and find a report of a recent natural disaster. Ask them to
analyze it using a political ecology approach and then compare that to a conflict and critical
theory approach. Who was most affected? How do we explain differential effects among
regions and communities? How do we account for the damage to different kinds of housing,
to schools and other public buildings? What might disaster managers and planners have
done differently to mitigate the impacts? What future strategies could reduce social
vulnerability?
Have students collect media coverage of a recent disaster that includes news reports, blogs,
maps and other graphics, and interviews with victims and officials. Have the students
analyze the worldview that is being conveyed by the media or blogger and by those who
witnessed or were otherwise affected by the disaster. What might students want to know
that is not being reported? What questions would the students ask of the reporter? Of
people affected by the event? How might the worldviews portrayed affect the response to
this disaster or to similar disasters in the future?
A core objective of this chapter is to challenge students to be critical in their understanding
of “natural” disasters. Divide students into two groups and ask them to debate the
proposition that we abolish the term “natural disaster.” To support their position students
could compare the effects of different kinds of disasters. For example, they might compare
Hurricane Katrina, as an unusually severe weather-event that disproportionately impacted
low-income, minority populations despite levees designed to protect them, to the
tornadoes in the Southeast, that appear to inflict damage more randomly, or to the role of
droughts in famine in the Horn of Africa. Or, they might compare the same kinds of events

31
in different locations, i.e., earthquakes in Haiti, Afghanistan, Turkey, the U.S., China, and
Japan.
It is important to get students excited about linking theory to natural hazard events. You
might initiate a discussion on how the discourse around natural disasters impacts the role
that people expect the government to play in responding to these events and to mitigating
damage from future events. What are some American worldviews and values, e.g.,
individual responsibility, the relationship between the federal government and states and
local communities, the role of faith-based organizations and civic organizations, that affects
how Americans expect the government to respond—either through pro-active policy and
infrastructure or through aid after an event?
Students might also explore how history and location affect both local and scientific
theories applied to disasters and hazards.
Ask them to compare articles in professional journals from different decades to see
what theories were used and how. Were theoretical approaches explicitly stated or
assumed? When do they begin to see evidence of change in the way scientists are
looking at and understanding disasters?
In terms of location, how does a country’s position in the global political economy
affect how disasters are described and explained? Using materials from their
websites, what theoretical frameworks do the World Bank, the Red Cross, the United
Nations and other international and national disaster relief agencies use? Are there
consistencies across these organizations or do they differ? How has this changed
over time? How do their theoretical approaches or worldviews affect their
programs, policies and priorities? What are the major conflicts and controversies
over theoretical approaches and how would you recommend resolving them?
Finally, the role that culture or worldviews play in determining people’s behavior is a
subject of debate among social scientists. The authors of this chapter argue that we should
be cautious in how we use culture or worldview as an explanatory variable and take other
factors – history, economic and political power, socioeconomic status, race and ethnicity,
gender, and age – into account when analyzing social vulnerability to disasters. To explore
this theme, ask students to read and respond to the article by Craig Janes under Resources
and then examine the responses to offers of foreign assistance with disaster relief by
Japan’s following the 2011 tsunami and Burma following Cyclone Nargis in 2008.
Resources
A PowerPoint is available to accompany this chapter.
The following websites may be useful:

32
o Hazards & Vulnerability Research Institute, University of South Carolina –
This is a social vulnerability index for the US that includes: race and class,
wealth, elderly residents, Hispanic ethnicity, special needs individuals, Native
American ethnicity, and service industry employment -
http://webra.cas.sc.edu/hvri/products/sovi.aspx
o FEMA Emergency Management Institute -
http://www.training.fema.gov/EMIWeb/edu/sovul.asp
o The Institute for Environmental and Social Change – A Boulder, Colorado-
based non-government organization focused on adaptation and resilience to
climate change particularly in southeast Asia - http://www.i-s-e-t.org
o National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration - http://www.noaa.gov/
o American Red Cross - http://newsroom.redcross.org/disaster-response-
guide/international-disaster-response/
o International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies -
http://www.ifrc.org/
o The United Nations Humanitarian and Disaster Relief Assistance -
http://www.un.org/en/globalissues/humanitarian/
o World Bank Disaster Risk Management -
http://web.worldbank.org/WBSITE/EXTERNAL/TOPICS/EXTURBANDEVEL
OPMENT/EXTDISMGMT/0,,menuPK:341021~pagePK:149018~piPK:149093
~theSitePK:341015,00.html
Ja ne s, Crai g R. 2006. Comment ary: ‘Cu lture ’, cultural explanations and
causality.
International Journal of Epidemiology 35:261-263 doi:10.1093/ije/dyi238.
List of International Relief Organizations -
http://www.globalcorps.com/jobs/ngolist.pdf
Instructors may also benefit from going to the FEMA Higher Education Website for
downloadable syllabi, course lectures, free textbooks and more! The current URL
for that site is http://www.training.fema.gov/EMIWeb/edu/collegecrsbooks.asp.
(Last accessed April 20, 2011).
Discussion Questions
1. Using a conflict and critical theory approach, how do the zoning policies and building
codes in your local community affect social vulnerability to hazards and disasters?
It may be helpful to have students first make a list of zoning policies and building
codes in their area and then discuss various impacts on social vulnerability. How
do zoning policies and building codes interact? For example, discuss the potential
impact of a zoning policy that allows development in a floodplain that is combined
with a building code that requires buildings to be elevated above flood level. Does
this increase or decrease vulnerability? Zoning policies and building codes are
intended to protect public health; can you think of examples where protection from
one hazard or disaster creates another unintended vulnerability?

33
2. What individuals or organizations can you identify at the local, national, and
international level that have succeeded in changing worldviews and values that
directly affect disaster planning and mitigation? How have they achieved these
changes?
The intent is to get students involved in a discussion about worldviews and values
as a process and not a product of society. When are worldviews and values most
likely to change? After an event? How do new ideas diffuse? Did Hurricane Katrina
act as a catalyst to change worldviews and values? How?
3. How do you see institutions responsible for disaster planning and mitigation
responding to the use of participatory approaches to research and planning in your
community? Should community members and organizations be full and equal
partners? Why or why not? How do you determine who should be included and which
voices should be heard?
Ask students if they have been involved in planning in their communities. How were
they engaged (i.e., public announcement, radio advertising, personal invitation)? If
community members are not full and equal partners, how does that affect their
willingness to participate? How should conflict be resolved? Have students list pros
and cons to full and equal participation versus limited participation.
4. Analyze media reports for a disaster or hazard. What values and worldview guide how
the event is reported? What is the view of hazards and disasters they present? How
might you go about informing journalists and media representatives about ways of
viewing these events?
Provide students with a short media report for a current disaster or hazard event.
Have them identify the event and discuss the cause(s) and effect(s) reported. Is the
event depicted as a “natural” event? Are human actions explicitly stated as
impacting the cause or effect of the event, and what does that indicate about the
values or worldview of the reporter? The readers? Using conflict and critical
theories, what questions do students have about the disaster or hazard that was not
reported?
5. How does the concept of sustainability challenge the view of hazards and disasters as
natural events? What does it tell us about the costs of social vulnerability? What
worldview of the relationship of humans to nature does it support?
The concept of sustainability challenges us to think about the true costs of
inequalities and inequities that result from a worldview of humans over nature and
points to the value of local knowledge in creating sustainable interactions with the
environment. What are some of the costs of social vulnerability? Have students
think about costs in terms of environmental, economic, and social dimensions.
6. Is protection from hazards and disasters a human right?

34
According to the World Health Organization, human rights extend beyond the basic
right to health to include underlying determinants of health such as health
information, access to water and food, and housing. Furthermore, rights must be
embedded in norms, institutions, laws, and an enabling environment. How does
protection from hazards and disasters fit within this definition? Does protection
conflict with livelihood opportunities (i.e., the right to work)?
Test Questions
Essay Questions
1. Given a political ecology framework, how can we understand hazards and disasters as
more than just “natural” events?
2. What are the three dominant ways of understanding the relationship of society and
nature? Give brief descriptions of each and discuss their effect on how people with those
views might respond to a hazard or disaster.
3. Briefly explain the concept of hegemony. Might we consider the dominant view of
disasters as “natural events beyond human control” as having hegemonic aspects?
4. Compare how the theoretical perspectives of disasters as caused by geophysical forces
and disasters as caused by human-environment interactions (social vulnerability) affects
the portrayal of people affected by hazards and disasters.
Multiple Choice/True and False
1. Scientific knowledge is always superior to local knowledge about how to respond to
and mitigate hazards and disasters. False
2. To successfully adapt to living in areas prone to natural disasters people must often
balance competing needs of making a living with safety from disasters. True
3. In general, when disasters occur in wealthy nations, property losses are very high
but the number of injuries and deaths is relatively small. True
4. Formal scientific theories differ from worldviews in the following way:
a. They explain and predict events that occur around us
b. They are explicit and systematic*
c. They are largely unconscious
d. They cannot be tested

35
5. Resilience is related to the concept of adaptation in that:
a. Resilient groups or communities are stable and unchanging
b. Resilient groups or communities are never vulnerable to disasters
c. Resilient groups or communities can adjust to changes in the physical and
social environment*
d. Resilient groups or communities are less likely to bounce back from disasters
6. Bangladeshis living in the floodplains of the Ganges River mitigate the risks of
annual floods in which of the following ways:
a. Spending savings
b. Selling land and animals
c. Obtaining help from family members
d. All of the above*
7. Although the community built a 30-foot high levee in 1930, more than 200 people
died in the tsunami in the Taro district of Miyako, Japan in 2001 because:
a. They lacked a warning system for evacuation
b. The levee wasn’t high enough
c. They relied on the levee to protect them and built houses next to it*
d. The levee collapse under the pressure of the tsunami
8. The development of banana plantations increased the vulnerability of peasant
farmers when Hurricane Fifi passed through Honduras in 1974 because:
a. They relied solely on banana production and the crop was ruined
b. They lived near streams and rivers that flooded
c. They could not ask the plantation owners for help replanting their crops
d. They had to farm steep hillsides, which destabilized the soil and created
landslides*
9. Many scientists working within the framework of social vulnerability, view disasters
as:
a. The product of normal or usual processes*
b. Caused by geophysical forces
c. Exceptional events
d. Affecting only the poor
10. Conflict theory assumes that in capitalist society:
a. Conflict is not an inherent aspect of the political economic system
b. Inequality is institutionalized through various forms of capital*
c. Inequality has no effect on who suffers from disasters

36
d. All of the above
11. The development of scientific theory is not affected by history or culture. False
12. People living in disaster-prone areas have little knowledge about disasters and how
to mitigate their effects. False
13. The dominant view of disasters can get in the way of efforts to decrease social
vulnerability to disasters by:
a. Viewing all individuals and communities as equally at risk from disasters*
b. Emphasizing that enforcement of building codes can mitigate damage from
disasters
c. Viewing disasters as resulting from normal and usual processes
d. Relying on local knowledge to mitigate disasters
14. Political ecology differs from ecological systems theory in:
a. Focusing on balance and homeostasis
b. Emphasizing the positive effects of development projects
c. They are different names for the same theory
d. Examining how power and inequality affect ecological systems*
15. Confidence that technology provides the best solutions to human problems like
disasters reflects which view of the relationship between people and nature?
a. People under nature
b. People over nature*
c. People with nature
16. Everyone in a given society shares the same worldview in the same way. False
17. Systems theory enables scientists to examine how the relationships among different
systems such as transportation and sewage contribute to vulnerability to disasters.
True
18. Values provide guidelines for actions that are generally consistent with worldviews.
True
19. Participatory forms of research can empower local communities and increase
resilience by:
a. Equalizing power between researchers and technical experts

37
b. Raising a community’s capacity to analyze their risks from hazards and
disasters
c. Incorporate local knowledge and practices regarding disasters
d. All of the above*
20. Which of the following is not a reason why systems theory is valuable in
anticipating the positive and negative results of a development project like a dam?
a. Dams only generate electricity and control flooding*
b. Dams alter the physical environment
c. Dams displace human communities
d. Dams may change human exposure to waterborne parasites
e. Dams may change farming practices

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chosen out of a selection of “leading novelties”; worn with care and reverence
the previous evening “to take off the stiffness,” and then after all—oh, the
awfulness of it!—had been replaced by an old pair in the bustle of departure.
The three girls stared at one another in consternation. Here was a catastrophe
to happen just at the last moment, when everyone was so happy and well
satisfied! The dismay on the chubby face was so pitiful that neither of
Mellicent’s companions could find it in her heart to speak a word of reproof.
They rather set to work to propose different ways out of the difficulty.
“Get hold of Max, and coax him to go back for them!”
“He wouldn’t, it’s no use. It’s raining like anything, and it would take him an
hour to go there and come back.”
“Ask Lady Darcy to send one of the servants——”
“No use, my dear. They are scampering up and down like mice, and haven’t a
moment to spare from their own work.”
“See if Rosalind would lend me a pair!”
“Silly goose! Look at your foot. It is three times the size of hers. You will just
have to wear them, I’m afraid. Give them to me and let me see what can be
done.” Peggy took the slippers in her hands and studied them critically. They
were certainly not new, but then they were by no means old; just respectable,
middle-aged creatures, slightly rubbed on the heel and white at the toes, but
with many a day of good hard wear still before them.
“Oh, come,” she said reassuringly, “they are not so bad, Mellicent! With a little
polish they would look quite presentable. I’ll tap at the door and ask Rosalind
if she has some that she can lend us. She is sure to have it. There are about
fifty thousand bottles on her table.”
Peggy crossed the room as she spoke, tapped on the panel and received an
immediate answer in a high complacent treble.
“Coming! Coming! I’m weady.” Then the door flew open; a tiny pink silk shoe
stepped daintily over the mat, and Rosalind stood before them in all the glory
of a new Parisian dress. Three separate gasps of admiration greeted her
appearance, and she stood smiling and dimpling while the girls took in the
fascinating details—the satin frock of palest imaginable pink, the white chiffon
over dress which fell from shoulder to hem in graceful freedom, sprinkled over
with exquisite rose-leaves—it was all wonderful—fantastic—as far removed
from Peggy’s muslin as from the homely crepon of the Vicar’s daughters.

“Rosalind! what a perfect angel you look!” gasped Mellicent, her own dilemma
forgotten in her whole-hearted admiration, but the next moment memory
came back and her expression changed to one of pitiful appeal. “But oh, have
you got any boot polish? The most awful thing has happened. I’ve brought my
old shoes by mistake! Look! I don’t know what on earth I shall do if you can’t
give me something to black the toes.” She held out the shoes as she spoke,
and Rosalind gave a shrill scream of laughter.
“Oh! oh! Those things! How fwightfully funny; what a fwightful joke! You will
look like Cinderwella, when she wan away and the glass slippers changed back
to her dweadful old clogs. It is too scweamingly funny, I do declare!”
“Oh, never mind what you declare! Can you lend us some boot polish, that’s
the question!” cried Peggy sharply. She knew Mellicent’s horror of ridicule, and
felt indignant with the girl who could stand by secure in her own beauty and
elegance, and have no sympathy for the misfortune of a friend. “If you have a
bottle of Peerless Gloss or any of those shiny things with a sponge fastened on
the cork, I can make them look quite respectable, and no one will have any
cause to laugh.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” trilled Rosalind once more, “Peggy is cwoss! I never knew such a
girl for flying into tantwums at a moment’s notice! Yes, of course, I’ll lend you
the polish. There is some in this little cupboard—there! I won’t touch it in case
it soils my gloves. Shall I call Marie to put it on for you?”
“Thank you; there’s no need—I can do it! I would rather do it myself!”
“Oh—oh, isn’t she cwoss! You will bweak the cork if you scwew it about like
that, and then you’ll never be able to get it out. Why don’t you pull it
pwoperly?”
“I know how to pull out a cork, thank you; I’ve done it before!”
Peggy shot an angry glance at her hostess, and set to work again with
doubled energy. Now that Rosalind had laughed at her inability, it would be
misery to fail; but the bottle had evidently lain aside for some time, and a stiff
black crust had formed round the cork which made it difficult to move. Peggy
pulled and tugged, while Rosalind stood watching, laughing her aggravating,
patronising little laugh, and dropping a word of instruction from time to time.
And then, quite suddenly, a dreadful thing happened. In the flash of an eye—
so quickly and unexpectedly, that, looking back upon it, it seemed like a
nightmare which could not possibly have taken place in real life—the cork
jerked out in Peggy’s hand, in response to a savage tug, and with it out flew
an inky jet, which rose straight up in the air, separated into a multitude of tiny

drops and descended in a flood—oh, the horror of that moment!—over
Rosalind’s face, neck and dress.
One moment a fairy princess, a goddess of summer, the next a figure of fun
with black spots scattered thickly over cheeks and nose, a big splash on the
white shoulder, and inky daubs dotted here and there between the rose
leaves. What a transformation! What a spectacle of horror! Peggy stood
transfixed; Mellicent screamed in terror, and Esther ran forward, handkerchief
in hand, only to be waved aside with angry vehemence. Rosalind’s face was
convulsed with anger; she stamped her foot and spoke at the pitch of her
voice, as if she had no control over her feelings.
“Oh, oh, oh! You wicked girl; you hateful, detestable girl! You did it on purpose
because you were in a temper! You have been in a temper all the afternoon!
You have spoiled my dress! I was ready to go downstairs. It is eight o’clock. In
a few minutes everyone will all be here, and oh, what shall I do—what shall I
do! Whatever will mother say when she sees me?”
As if to give a practical answer to this inquiry, there came a sound of hasty
footsteps in the corridor, the door flew open, and Lady Darcy rushed in,
followed by the French maid.
“My darling, what is it? I heard your voice. Has something happened? Oh-h!”
She stopped short, paralysed with consternation, while the maid wrung her
hands in despair. “Rosalind, what have you done to yourself?”
“Nothing, nothing! It was Peggy Saville; she splashed me with her horrid boot-
polish—I gave it to her for her shoes. It is on my face, my neck, in my mouth
——”
“I was pulling the cork. It came out with a jerk. I didn’t know; I didn’t see!”
Lady Darcy’s face stiffened with an expression of icy displeasure.
“It is too annoying! Your dress spoiled at the last moment! Inexcusable
carelessness! What is to be done, Marie? I am in despair!”
The Frenchwoman shrugged her shoulders with an indignant glance in Peggy’s
direction.
“There is nothing to do. Put on another dress, that is all. Mademoiselle must
change as quick as she can. If I sponge the spots, I spoil the whole thing at
once.”
“But you could cut them out, couldn’t you?” cried Peggy, the picture of woe,
yet miserably eager to make what amends she could. “You could cut out the

spots with sharp scissors, and the holes would not show, for the chiffon is so
full and loose. I—I think I could do it, if you would let me try!”
Mistress and maid exchanged a sharp, mutual glance, and the Frenchwoman
nodded slowly.
“Yes, it is true; I could rearrange the folds. It will take some time, but still, it
can be done. It is the best plan.”
“Go then, Rosalind, go with Marie; there is not a moment to spare, and for
pity’s sake, don’t cry! Your eyes will be red, and at any moment now the
people may begin to arrive. I wanted you to be with me to receive your
guests. It will be most awkward being without you, but there is no help for it, I
suppose. The whole thing is too annoying for words!”
Lady Darcy swept out of the room, and the three girls were once more left
alone, but how changed were their feelings in those few short moments!
There was not the shadow of a smile between them; they looked more as if
they were about to attend a funeral than a scene of festivity, and for several
moments no one had the heart to speak. Peggy still held the fatal cork in her
hand, and went through the work of polishing Mellicent’s slippers with an air of
the profoundest dejection. When they were finished she handed them over in
dreary silence, and was recommencing the brushing of her hair, when
something in the expression of the chubby face arrested her attention. Her
eyes flashed; she faced round with a frown and a quick “Well, what is it? What
are you thinking now?”
“I—I wondered,” whispered Mellicent breathlessly, “if you did it on purpose!
Did you mean to spoil her dress and make her change it?”
Peggy’s hands dropped to her side, her back straightened until she stood stiff
and straight as a poker. Every atom of expression seemed to die out of her
face. Her voice had a deadly quiet in its intonation.
“What do you think about it yourself?”
“I—I thought perhaps you did! She teased you, and you were so cross. You
seemed to be standing so very near her, and you are jealous of her—and she
looked so lovely! I thought perhaps you did....”
“Mellicent Asplin,” said Peggy quietly, and her voice was like the keen east
wind that blows from the icy-covered mountains, “Mellicent Asplin, my name is
Saville, and in my family we don’t condescend to mean and dishonourable
tricks. I may not like Rosalind, but I would have given all I have in the world
sooner than this should have happened. I was trying to do you a service, but
you forget that. You forget many things! I have been jealous of Rosalind,

because when she arrived, you and your sister forgot that I was alone and far
away from everyone belonging to me, and were so much engrossed with her
that you left me alone to amuse myself as best I might. You were pleased
enough to have me when no one else was there, but you left me the moment
someone appeared who was richer and grander than I. I wouldn’t have
treated you like that if our positions had been reversed. If I dislike Rosalind, it
is your fault as much as hers; more than hers, for it was you who made me
dread her coming!”
Peggy stopped, trembling and breathless. There was a moment’s silence in the
room, and then Esther spoke in a slow, meditative fashion.
“It is quite true!” she said. “We have left you alone, Peggy; but it is not quite
so bad as you think. Really and truly we like you far the best, but—but
Rosalind is such a change to us. Everything about her is so beautiful and so
different, that she has always seemed the great excitement of our lives. I don’t
know that I’m exactly fond of her, but I want to see her, and talk to her, and
hear her speak; and she is only here for a short time in the year. It was
because we looked upon you as really one of ourselves that we seemed to
neglect you, but it was wrong all the same. As for your spoiling her dress on
purpose, it’s ridiculous to think of it. How could you say such a thing,
Mellicent, when Peggy was trying to help you, too? How could you be so mean
and horrid?”
“Oh, well, I’m sure I wish I were dead,” wailed Mellicent promptly. “Nothing
but fusses and bothers, and just when I thought I was going to be so happy!
If I’d had white shoes, this would never have happened. Always the same
thing! When you look forward to a treat, everything is as piggy and nasty as it
can be! Wish I’d never come! Wish I’d stayed at home, and let the horrid old
party go to Jericho! Rosalind’s crying, Peggy’s cross, you are preaching! This is
a nice way to enjoy yourself, I must say!”
Nothing is more hopeless than to reason with a placid person who has lapsed
into a fit of ill-temper. The two elder girls realised this, and remained perfectly
silent while Mellicent continued to wish for death, to lament the general misery
of life, and the bad fortune which attended the wearers of black slippers. So
incessant was the stream of her repinings, that it seemed as if it might have
gone on for ever, had not a servant entered at last with the information that
the guests were beginning to arrive, and that Lady Darcy would be glad to see
the young ladies without delay. Esther was anxious to wait and help Peggy
with her toilette, but that young lady was still on her dignity and by no means
anxious to descend to a scene of gaiety for which she had little heart. She
refused the offer, therefore, in Mariquita fashion, and the sisters walked

dejectedly along the brightly-lit corridors, Mellicent still continuing her
melancholy wail, and Esther reflecting sadly that all was vanity, and devoutly
wishing herself back in the peaceful atmosphere of the vicarage.
(To be continued.)

LOOKING BACK:
A RETROSPECT, WITH SOME SURPRISING FIGURES
AND A PRESENTATION TO THE EDITOR.
By JAMES MASON.
Excuse me if I indulge in a personal reminiscence. It is in every way a pleasant
incident to recall:—
Between nineteen and twenty years ago, in the Dark Ages, when as yet there
was no Girl’s Own Paper, I remember a quite accidental meeting at luncheon in
a London restaurant with the present Editor. We had become well acquainted
before that, in connection with a magazine of which he was sub-editor and to
which I then played the part of contributor.

THE AUTOGRAPH TEA-TABLE CLOTH.
I found him full of a scheme he had in view, a paper which he anticipated
would be a lasting success, for it was going to appeal to and cater for those
sensible girls who are always in fashion and who hitherto had possessed no
magazine which they could call their very own.
From the restaurant we adjourned to the Editor’s chambers, and there he read
to me the proof of the prospectus about to be issued, announcing the
publication of the first number of The Girl’s Own Paper. At this distance of time
I cannot recollect the terms of that document, but, as it is not every day that
editors write prospectuses, we may take it for granted that it was a very
moving discourse which no girl could read without wishing at the very least to
see Number One.
The confidence of the Editor in his project was infectious. Confident he was,
and confident he deserved to be, for he had had considerable experience and,
it was clear, knew well what he was about. From that day I believed in the

fortunes of The Girl’s Own Paper. It is true that we might have paused to
consider how it is impossible to tell beforehand what will hit the public taste,
but to the enthusiasm of so long ago that fact was only a sort of bogey to
frighten enterprising spirits from starting anything new.
Beginning with that interview it is pleasant to follow the career of The Girl’s
Own Paper, leading up to its present flourishing fortunes. As the day is judged
by its dawn, so girls apparently made up their minds about the aims, quality,
and character of their special organ from the very first number. When it came
out, “You are a treasure!” was uttered in every tone of voice, and with every
inflection of enthusiasm.
The sunshine of that time has lasted up till now. From being a new serial The
Girl’s Own Paper has become a well-established favourite, with an influence for
good in the community to which an outsider to the editorial office like myself
may with propriety call attention. It is a paper which has been always in the
front in advocating what is best for girlhood; always up-to-date; always
interesting; always, one can see, trying to be sensible, and—without forcing its
recognition—never losing sight of the highest subject of all.
A few figures relating to the publication will no doubt be found of interest,
showing, as they do, what a considerable enterprise the Editor entered upon
when he launched his first number on the sea of public favour.
The thousand numbers now completed have endeavoured to bring their
influence to bear by means of about ten thousand articles on subjects of all
kinds interesting to girls. This is not counting fiction. When we come to fiction,
we find that The Girl’s Own Paper has aided in the innocent amusement of its
readers by the publication up to the present time of close on a hundred serial
stories, and five times as many short stories and stories completed within the
limits of a monthly part.
Suppose a girl, a model of perseverance, wanted to read through the whole
thousand numbers aloud without skipping a word, she could not do it in much
less than a year, reading for eight hours a day. She would have her reward at
the end of that time, for she would have stored away in her head a collection
of valuable matter which would make her a “none-such” for the rest of her life.
The illustrations have been about as many in number as the articles—
excluding fiction. If a girl wanted to go through them all, giving to each one

only half a minute of her time, she would have a picture-show that would last
over ten days, giving to it eight hours a day.
If all the columns of matter were cut out and pasted in one long strip, the
thousand numbers would stretch out as a narrow pathway over seven miles.
The figures are more startling when we come from columns to lines. Take all
the lines of printed matter in the thousand numbers and extend them in one
long line. Then whoever wants to run and read at the same time will have to
run over a hundred and forty-five miles before she gets from the first words of
Number One which were “Zara, or, My Granddaughter’s Money”—that being
the title of the first story—down to the last syllable of the present number.
Such is the distance the editorial eye has had to travel over. It is about thirty
miles further than from London to Bristol, nearly twice as far as from London
to Southampton, about three times as far as from Edinburgh to Glasgow, and
a little less than three times the distance from London to Brighton.
Taking the whole circulation of The Girl’s Own Paper from the issue of the first
number, we arrive at an imposing result. Suppose that instead of distributing
the copies to subscribers, they had been hoarded up and made to form a tall
pillar, one copy being laid flat on the top of another. And supposing a girl
wished to read the topmost number—the present number, that is to say—
without using a ladder, she would have to wait till she grew to be a hundred
and seventy miles high.
It would be a pillar towering into the air to an inconvenient height, so it might
be cut into sections, each of about the height, say, of Mont Blanc, and there
would be about fifty-six of these.
If all the numbers which have been circulated since Number One were laid end
to end, they would make a pathway long enough to go round the world at the
Equator with a bit over. If one could only contrive to carry it over the sea, girls
might in this way ramble round and round the globe treading on their own
paper all the way.
The publication of the thousandth number of a magazine which can refer to
such statistics as these is certainly an event worth taking note of. Making, as it
does, a red-letter day in the history of the paper, it was resolved, on the kind
and thoughtful suggestion of Mrs. Emma Brewer—whom all our readers know
—to signalise it by presenting the Editor with the autograph cloth shown in the

illustration. This wonderful tea-cloth was presented to him at Christmas,
together with a letter containing the following cheering words:
“We hoped to have made this little gift quite complete; there are however still
some names wanting, not for lack of inclination to write them, but of time to
collect them.
“Imperfect as it is, it is eloquent in its expression of affection and good-will. As
such will you accept it and be cheered by it? It is not only a tribute to you as a
born editor, but as a good sterling friend. We do not think any other Editor in
England will have a like gift to-day.”
It is a recognition on the part of a hundred contributors—literary, musical, and
artistic—who have served under his flag, of the ability, friendliness, and
discretion which have been all along displayed in his dealings with his staff. No
one can go back, as I do, to the very beginning of The Girl’s Own Paper without
seeing how much it owes of its best features to his presiding care. Under his
capable management and under that of a long line of successors, to whom he
will be able to transmit the best maxims of editorial success, there seems no
reason why The Girl’s Own Paper should not go on flourishing till the printers
have to add a fifth figure to the number on the front page—and that will be a
hundred and seventy-three years and four weeks from the present date!

VARIETIES.
The Piano has been Sold.
A Dutch paper, the other day, published the following significant advertisement
from a disconsolate wife—
“Adolphus. Return to your Matilda. The piano has been sold.”
Beauty in Ugliness.—“Ugliness of the right sort,” says the late Jean Ingelow, “is
a kind of beauty. It has some of the best qualities of beauty—it attracts
observation and fixes the memory.”
To make an Egg stand on End.—It is not generally known that an egg can be
made to stand on end on any smooth, level surface. The process is very
simple. Take the egg in the right hand and briskly shake it up and down for a
minute or two, when the yolk will separate and sink to the broad end. If the
egg be now properly poised on its broad end, it will stand perfectly upright
even on a piece of glass.
Dogs Made Useful.
The dog in Belgium is universally employed in drawing barrows and small carts
about the streets. In Brussels alone over 5000 dogs are so engaged, and the
total number of draught-dogs in the whole country is probably not less than
50,000.
Generations of servitude have made the Belgian dog a race apart. For his size
he is said to possess the greatest pulling power of any animal, four times his
own weight being considered a load well within his power. Taking his average
weight as half an hundredweight, this means that something like 5000 tons
are daily dragged about by canine labour in Belgium.
Well Balanced.
“Aunt Emilina, what is it to be well balanced?”

“Well balanced? Why, it is having sense enough to make more friends than
enemies.”
“Plenty More Days.”
In Spain, the people take no note of time, not even from its loss. Everything is
to be done manana, to-morrow.
A wealthy Englishman, who had long lived in Spain, had a lawsuit. He pleaded
his cause in person, and, knowing the customs of the country, won his case.
The victory cost him three days of trouble and expense, so that when the
judge congratulated him on his success, he replied—
“Yes, that’s all right; but it has cost me three days, and time is money. I am a
busy man, and these three days are lost for ever.”
“Oh, you English!” answered the judge. “You are always saying that time is
money! How are you to get your three days back? I will tell you. Take them
out of next week. Surely there are plenty more days!”
Charity.—The highest exercise of charity is charity towards the uncharitable.

Social Vulnerability to Disasters 2nd Thomas Solution Manual

“OUR HERO.”
A TALE OF THE FRANCO-ENGLISH WAR NINETY
YEARS AGO.
By AGNES GIBERNE, Author of “Sun, Moon and
Stars,” “The Girl at the Dower House,” etc.
CHAPTER XXII.
A BITTER EXPERIENCE.
HAT march from Verdun to Bitche! If Roy Baron should live to
be a hundred years old, the bitter memory of it would stand
out still, pre-eminent among memories.
He had at first only three English companions, middle-aged
men, masters of merchantmen, accused of trying to escape
from close confinement in the dungeon of the “Tour
d’Angoulême” of the Verdun citadel. There, for no apparent
reason beyond caprice, they had been flung by the
commandant’s orders, and thence they were now no less
arbitrarily remanded to the worse dungeons of Bitche.
They were honest sailor-like men, rough in manner, but kindly;
and they looked with pity at the fresh-faced boy, whom many a time they had
seen in the streets of Verdun. One of them spoke to him, but Roy was in no
mood for talk. He held his head well up, and strode resolutely along, with a
spirited imitation of the bearing which was characteristic of Ivor; yet at his
heart lay a weight like lead. It was such cruel work, being thus torn away from
all whom he loved, and sent he hardly knew whither, merely for one little
boyish fit of recklessness.
At the first halting-place they were joined by a second and larger company, a
party of English sailors, manacled two and two, like criminals. Sailors of the
Royal Navy Roy knew at a glance, and he caught a glimpse also of three or
four middies behind them. Then his attention was called off, as, to his
unutterable wrath, he found himself also on the point of being put into fetters.

Roy Baron—son of a Colonel in His Majesty’s Guards—to be handcuffed!
The blood rushed to his face, then receded, leaving him as white as his own
shirt-front. He clenched his hands fiercely; and the merchantman Captain, who
had addressed him at the first, came a step nearer.
“Sir, it’ll be worse for you if you resist! I wouldn’t, sir—I wouldn’t really!”
As if in echo Roy seemed to hear Denham’s voice speaking too. “Think of your
mother!” he had said. If he endured patiently, Roy might be the sooner sent
back to her.
The frank weather-beaten face of the sailor had an anxious look upon it. Roy
said gravely, “Thank you, Captain!” and submitted, though not without a sting
of hot tears smarting under his eyelids at the indignity.
Then he flung himself flat on the ground, passionately hiding his face in those
manacled hands, and refusing the coarse food that was offered to him. He had
money in his possession, but Denham had advised him to be in no haste to
betray the fact.
“Never you mind,” a voice said at his side, clear and chirpy as the note of a
robin. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know. It isn’t our fault. The
shame is for them—not us. Cheer up, comrade.”
The combined childishness and manliness of the tones made an odd
impression upon Roy, the more so as they also brought a sense of something
familiar. He pulled himself up slowly. One of the middies had drawn close; a
pretty boy, perhaps two years Roy’s junior, with a rosy face, and any amount
of pluck in it.
Roy gazed hard at him, in growing bewilderment.
“You’d better eat while you can. None too good fare, eh?”—with the same droll
assumption of manliness. “As for these”—and he lifted his little brown
manacled hands—“why, it only shows we’re Englishmen. Ain’t you proud of
that? I am!” Then a pause, and a stare. “O I say! My eyes!”
“I say!” echoed Roy.
“If you ain’t as like as two peas——”
“And you’ve a look——”
“It’s Roy Baron, as I’m alive!”
“And I declare it’s Will Peirce!”

The two tongues went fast for three minutes. As little boys they had played
together, romped together, worked mischief together, teased Molly together,
and together had usually made up to her afterwards by spending their joint
pennies on splendid bull’s-eyes, wherewith to comfort her wounded feelings.
For nearly five years the two had not met.
“We weren’t beaten in fair fight, don’t you think it,” Will asserted with his
chirrupy cheerfulness. “Got caught in a trap. Damaged in a gale off Cape
Finisterre, and then when ’twas as much as we could do to keep afloat, two
seventy-gun French frigates bore down upon us. If she’d have answered her
helm, we’d have got the best of it, in spite of all; but though we had a hard
fight, ’twas no go for us. They raked us fore and aft, and we got riddled
through and through, so we were bound to give in at last. I say, you set to
work and eat something. We’ve a long way to go.”
Roy followed the wise counsel of experienced boyhood, and did eat, feeling
better for it. Also, Will’s familiar and plucky face brought a sense of something
like comfort.
“We’ll keep together as long as we can,” Will said.
Then on again they marched, the middies and Roy simply handcuffed; the
Royal Navy sailors and the merchantmen sailors chained together, two and
two. The boys kept up a brave heart, at least in outward seeming, however
weary and footsore they became; and Roy held out as resolutely as anyone.
He seemed to himself indefinitely older than Will; though in some respects Will
was more a man of the two, having fought in two or three engagements, and
had one wound, besides coming in for a nice sum of prize-money some
months earlier.
Now and again Roy would recur in thought to Ivor’s long march from
Valenciennes to Verdun, all the way on foot, though weakened by illness, and
then Denham’s pale face at the moment of their parting would come up; was
it only that same morning? Already it began to look like months ago. Roy felt
years older than when he had stood on the ramparts, watching a crowd at the
gate. Was that indeed only two days earlier?
Later in the day, when another halt was made, a third company seemed to be
waiting to join them. A company of—were they prisoners? Impossible. Roy
gazed in perplexity. For these were French faces, sullen and downcast, with
French manners, and French style of dress. Yet they too were coupled
together, like the English sailors, two and two, by connecting chains. They too
were under an escort of gendarmes.

“Are they convicts?” Roy exclaimed, and the merchantman-master, Captain
Boyce, replied—
“Bless you, sir, no. Those are conscripts for the Emperor’s grand army, dragged
from their homes, belike, without a will-he nor a nill-he, and driven to war like
sheep to the shambles.”
“Poor wretches,” Will remarked, with his experienced air. “I’ve seen a lot of
them before, on our way across France.”
“Sure enough, sir, and so have I—times and again. Looking as sheepish too
and as down in the mouth as ever a man need look. It don’t make much
wonder neither, seeing they’re dragged away from their homes and their
sweethearts, and never a chance of getting off. O they’ll make smart soldiers
enough, I’ll be bound, and good food for shot too, with a few months of
drilling, and be as ready to rave as any Frenchman of them all for ‘le petit
Caporal,’ as they’re pleased to call the Emperor. And the mothers and
sweethearts may bear the sorrow as they can, and the land may go
uncultivated, and what does Boney care, so long as he has his way?”
“But—conscripts for Napoleon! French soldiers—chained!”[1] uttered Roy.
“Well, you see, sir, it’s this way. They’ve got to be taken from their homes to
the dépôt; and scarce a man among ’em wouldn’t desert on the road, if he’d a
chance of doing so. When they’ve been in the army a few weeks or months,
disciplined and turned into proper soldiers, they’ll learn a pride in their new
position, and things’ll be different; but at the first ’tis hard upon the poor
chaps. Why, look you, I’ve heard of a young fellow being taken straight off,
just as he was on the point of being married, and the marriage put off, nobody
knew how long. As like as not, in six months he’d be in a soldier’s grave.”
Roy thought of Lucille.
“’Tis not our English way with our soldiers,” he said, in reference to the sight
before them.
“No, sir. But”—and a queer smile gleamed on the weatherbeaten face—“but
I’m not one for to go for to say that even old England is never in the wrong.
You’ve maybe heard o’ such matters as the work of the press-gangs, that force
men to go to sea against their will; carry ’em off captive, in fact. Many a brave
tar, in His Majesty’s Service at this moment, who’d give his life for his country,
and never a moment’s hesitation, was kidnapped at the first and dragged
away, unwilling enough, I can tell you.”[2]

“More shame for them, if they didn’t want to fight for the liberties of England!”
retorted little Will, with the dignity of a man three times his size.
The chained and dejected conscripts followed in rear of the prisoners, as the
march was resumed.
Day after day it went on. A hundred leagues were not to be accomplished on
foot quickly, by a large number of men and boys, of varying powers, many of
them used to shipboard life, and entirely unused to long tramps. There were
tender feet and weary limbs among them before long, and things grew worse
each day. Food was poor, and at night when they halted they were put to
sleep in the common prison of the place, no matter what manner of prison it
might be. Roy would have found it hard to rest, in such accommodation as
was provided, but that he was usually far too weary to keep awake.
He was carefully guarding the money with which he had been abundantly
supplied by his father; not allowing it to be known that he possessed more
than a few loose coins, sufficient for immediate needs. Impulsive Roy would
hardly have been so reticent, but for injunctions at the last from Ivor. Like Ivor,
he was naturally open-handed and generous, and he could not but share
freely what he had in hand with the middies, since they proved to be ill
supplied with cash.
At length the long march came to an end. Bitche was reached—a grim and
solemn fortress, sheltering already hundreds of English prisoners, waiting to
engulf these new arrivals in addition.
Roy and the middies together were first taken to the “Petite Tête,” so-called,
where each one underwent a severe searching, lest he should have concealed
about him either weapons of defence, or instruments which might be used for
purposes of escape. Roy’s bag of money and notes was detected in this
search, and he knew that thenceforward the gendarmes would look upon him
as lawful prey.
No immediate attempt was, however, made upon him. He and the middies
were led through gloomy passages to one of the great subterranean
dungeons, descending some sixty steps, into a place which has been described
as not unlike a huge wine-vault. Originally it had been dug out of the solid
saltpetre rock, and was some thirty feet below the surface of the ground.
In this vault, dimly-lighted, heavy and dank in atmosphere, with water here
and there dripping from the roof or running down the walls, was gathered a
motley crowd of some three hundred prisoners. English soldiers, English
sailors, English middies, détenus from Verdun and elsewhere, were mingled
with swindlers, pickpockets, and highwaymen; and even English gentlemen

and officers of higher rank sometimes found themselves consigned here,
though, unless they gave particular offence, they were more commonly
installed in smaller rooms above ground.
With the measured descent down and down those stone steps, Roy’s heart
sank lower and lower. Was this what he had come to? And for how long?
An outburst of uproarious cheering hailed the new arrivals, as the heavy doors
were unlocked and they were ushered in. Three shouts were given; then each
was hoisted on the shoulders of three or four men, and was paraded round
the dungeon. After this rough welcome, came a severe blanket-tossing, which
both Roy and the middies were wise enough to take in good part. Any who
wished to fight were then cordially invited to do so; and lastly those who
possessed money were called upon to treat others to drink, provided by the
gendarmes.
Such initiatory ceremonies being ended, comparative quiet descended on the
scene. It was past eight o’clock when they first arrived, and night was near.
Roy Baron’s first night in a French dungeon!
Each prisoner was provided with a worn blanket, cast off by a French soldier;
and wrapped in these the crowd of over three hundred men and boys laid
themselves down to rest. Some slumbered silently; some tossed to and fro;
some snored loudly; some talked or shouted in their sleep. Roy lay amid the
throng, a ragged blanket round him also. At first he had rejected it with scorn;
but these subterranean regions were cold and damp, and, shivering, he had at
length drawn it round him, as he lay with arms crossed, and face pressed into
them. The handcuffs had been removed.
He was not thinking of the bruises which he had received, when the rough
blanket-tossers had allowed him to drop upon the stone floor. Bruises to a
hardy boy are a small matter. But the desolation of the lad that awful night
went beyond bounds, and desperate blank despair took possession of him.
For hours he hardly stirred. He could not sleep. He could only lie in a trance of
misery. He saw no gleam of hope, no chance of escape from this terrible
place. Yet, to stay on here, week after week, month after month, perhaps
even as some had done year after year! Could he bear it? Through all previous
troubles Roy had borne up bravely; but at last his spirit gave way beneath the
strain.
Molly’s face came up before his mind—not Molly the sedate and ladylike
maiden of sixteen, but Molly the little eager girl whom he remembered. O to

see her again! Roy pressed his face closer into the folded arms, writhing
silently.
Then his mother’s face—he hardly dared to think of that. What would not she
suffer? unknowing, indeed, what her boy had to endure; but fearing and
conjecturing the worst, so far as she had knowledge to picture that worst.
Would any picturings of hers approach the reality?
A wild craving for Denham had him next in its grasp. If Denham had but been
arrested too—had but come with him! But that unworthy wish lasted not ten
seconds. Upon it came a nobler rush of gladness that Denham was not here.
The worn face came up before Roy, as he had seen it but a few days sooner;
and below his breath he sobbed in an ecstasy of thankfulness, that at least
Denham would be in comparative comfort, that at least he had not to be in
this dungeon.
“Think how your mother will be praying for you.”
Was that Denham speaking? Roy seemed to hear the words, not only with his
mind, but with his bodily ears.
He sat up and looked round upon the slumbering throng—looked with
smarting eyes into the gloom. He gazed into the blackness overhead, where a
stone roof shut him pitilessly in.
Was his mother praying for him then?—and his father?—and Denham? Would
God hear their prayers?
Denham’s voice again, deep and quiet, seemed to breathe around him,
“Remember! God is overall!” How long ago was it that he had said those
words? Not lately. Was it—when he was ordered off to Valenciennes?
God over all? Ay, even here, even in this dungeon!
Roy dropped down again, face foremost; and through heaving sobs, not one of
which was allowed to make itself heard, he joined his prayers to those of his
mother.
(To be continued.)

SUCCESS AND LONG LIFE TO THE “G. O.
P.”
SUCCESS AND LONG LIFE TO THE “G. O. P.”

Success and long life to the “G. O. P.”
As she starts on her voyage again;
Let us speed her forth with a three times three
O’er a sunny and tranquil main.
A thousand times has our gallant ship
Her course sped over the seas;
Through wintry gales sped the silver sails,
Or haply the summer breeze.
Then success and long life to the “G. O. P.”
’Tis with hands all round, and across the sea,
That we speed her forth with our three times
three!
A thousand times have her sails been set
O’er a cargo of golden grain;
A thousand times may she bear it yet,
And a thousand to that again!
For her freight has ever more precious grown,
Each time we have watched her start,
With the varied cheer that has grown so dear
To many a home and heart.
three!
Success and long life to the Captain staunch,
May his hand, so kindly and strong,
Yet for many a year the good ship launch
He has guided so well and long.
Success and long life to her faithful crew,
Long, long may they rally round,
And one and all, at their Captain’s call,
Be “ready and willing” found!
three!
Helen Marion Burnside.

OUR 1000th NUMBER.
HE printer has put a fourth figure to the number on the front
page of this issue, and the Editor makes his bow to his
faithful readers—of whom there must now be many millions
—and congratulates them on having done their part, the
most important of all, in bringing this magazine to so
enviable a point in its history.
To all girls who now read its pages, and to all who have read
it in the past, he sends hearty greetings and offers his
sincere thanks for their loyal support. Everyone works best when his labours
are appreciated, and the Editor feels that he ought, at least, to have done
well, for he has pursued his task accompanied by a constant chorus of
friendliness and encouragement.
The first idea of The Girl’s Own Paper came as a happy thought to the present
Editor about twenty years ago, at a time when he was closely connected with
the management of two other magazines long well known to the public.
It appeared to him that there was a real want of a paper which girls could
truly call their own: a paper which would be to the whole sisterhood a
sensible, interesting and good-humoured companion, counsellor and friend,
advocating their best interests, taking part in everything affecting them, giving
them the best advice, conveying to them the best information, supplying them
with the most readable fiction, and trying to exercise over them a refining and
elevating influence.
To meet this want he proposed the starting of The Girl’s Own Paper to the
present proprietors. By them the suggestion was well received—indeed, they
themselves had about the same time conceived the notion of a magazine for
girls—but many doubts and difficulties were expressed as to the carrying of it
out, which was natural, seeing the venture meant the sinking of a considerable

amount of capital. At last, however, the decision to start the paper was arrived
at and careful preparations were made for launching the first number on
Saturday the 3rd of January, 1880.
During the nearly twenty years which have elapsed since then the Editor has
been aided in every possible way by the society who own the paper. They have
enabled him to conduct it on the most liberal principles of expenditure, and
the business management has been such as to make easy what at times might
have proved burdensome. Also to the Editor-in-Chief of the Society’s
magazines, Dr. Macaulay, the hearty thanks of the Editor are due for liberty of
action and a great deal of kindly encouragement.
The first number appeared on the Saturday we have just named. Success
shone upon us from the very first, and The Girl’s Own Paper at once and by
general consent took a foremost place amongst the magazines of the day.
Professional critics in the Press were generous, and said many a friendly word
in our praise. The late George Augustus Sala elevated The Girl’s Own Paper to
the position of “first favourite,” and in an encouraging notice expressed a hope
that “all the girls” of Great Britain would subscribe, for he thought it would be
greatly to their advantage.
Much-valued approval and friendly letters of advice and help also came to us
in these early days from Mr. John Ruskin, who, writing to a girl friend, said that
he had ordered the paper to be sent to him regularly, and added, “Surely you
young ladies—girls, I ought to say—will think you have a fair sixpenny worth.”
But better and more important than even the praise of the critics was the
appreciation of the girls themselves. Everywhere throughout the country, far
away in the colonies, and up and down all over the world, we found we were
being read, valued, and talked about by those for whose benefit the paper had
been produced. Girls were unanimous in recognising the merits of this new
friend and in letting it be seen that The Girl’s Own Paper was to be henceforth a

welcome and, indeed, indispensable visitor in all their homes. It was a great
and gratifying success.
The favour with which the paper was received has been continued up to the
present time, and the Editor is in hopes that, by pursuing the course that has
done so well hitherto, he will be enabled to retain it for many a day to come.
No matter what a girl’s tastes or needs may be, on looking into The Girl’s Own
Paper, she will sooner or later find what she is in want of. We are not going
here to compile a list of the thousand and one subjects that have been treated
of in our pages. It is enough to say that there is not a single topic of interest
to girlhood to which our paper has not given, or is not going to give, attention.
Whether a girl merely wants to read what will make the hours fly fast, or, what
is more important, wants to know what will add to her value and usefulness,
let her turn to The Girl’s Own Paper. There never has been in this country, or
indeed in any other, a storehouse of material by means of which girls can
make the most of their lives, at all to be compared with it.
A valuable feature of our paper has been the Answers to Correspondents,
which have appeared with such regularity, and been read with such pleasure,
ever since its commencement. The magnitude of this department, and its
ceaseless flow of incoming letters, would surprise anyone admitted behind the
scenes for the first time. In these answers, innumerable items of information
have been given, countless criticisms have been ventured on, and an attempt
has been made to solve a great many of the problems and difficulties that
enter into the thoughts and lives of our readers.
Letters have also been received daily, during these nineteen years and more,
by the Editor, which have not been answered publicly in our correspondence
columns, and these communications he has now much satisfaction in
mentioning. They have come from girls in all parts of the world, and without

exception have borne testimony to the usefulness of The Girl’s Own Paper. Not
a few have told how it has had a good and wholesome influence on the minds
of the writers, acknowledging in no measured terms that it has enabled them
to lead wiser and better lives. And many a solitary girl has written how she has
found it the best possible company, coming to her—and punctually too—with
all the inspiring influence of a cheerful friend.
Another feature not to be forgotten in the progress of The Girl’s Own Paper is to
be found in the many competitions, by means of which we have from time to
time tested the ingenuity, taste, accomplishments, skill, and perseverance of
our readers. These have occasionally roused a remarkable degree of
enthusiasm. In one of the most successful, we well remember, the papers
came in such numbers, that the Post Office had to send a special van with
them, and one sackful took four men to carry it upstairs.
A large amount of money has, from first to last, been distributed amongst the
winning competitors, and a great many certificates of merit have been granted
to those who, whilst failing to get a prize, obtained a certain percentage of
marks. These certificates have been much valued and not a few have been
found serviceable as testimonials to painstaking and ability, when girls have
had to make their way in the world.
And not only have our readers received benefit themselves. Influenced, as the
Editor knows them to have been, in the direction of true charity by the
writings of some of our contributors, they have tried in their turn to be of
service to others, and through the medium of The Girl’s Own Paper have done
much useful work for the community.
They have, for example—at the suggestion of the Countess of Aberdeen,[3]
who has ever taken great interest in the magazine, notwithstanding her high
public and official positions—established a working girl’s home in London; also,
they have re-established the Princess Louise Home for Girls, subscribing with
touching readiness and liberality to each of these schemes in actual cash over
a thousand pounds. They have besides made periodical grants of warm
clothing for the poor, sent dolls in great numbers to brighten the dull hours of
sick children in hospitals and in many other ways shown a good sisterly
interest in those less happily circumstanced than themselves.

The Editor has been assisted in his labours by a band of very willing workers—
authors, musical composers, and artists—whose names are familiar to all our
readers. Many of these have been associated with him from the
commencement of The Girl’s Own Paper up to the present time—faithful,
industrious, enthusiastic helpers, eager to give of their best and thoroughly in
sympathy with the young.
Some of our authors had already made their mark before they appeared in our
pages; but others were unknown, and it is a great pleasure to the Editor to
think that he has been the means of bringing into public notice not a few who
are now universally acknowledged as writers of ability.
But whilst surrounded by a tried staff, the Editor has made it a rule to
welcome contributions—indeed, to invite them—from every quarter. If the
topic be suitable, the writer well informed, and the manner interesting, no
manuscript ever goes away rejected from the door of the Editorial Office.
Amongst our occasional contributors may be seen the names of a queen,
several princesses, and leading members of the nobility, and a great many
more who have distinguished themselves in various lines of activity connected
with the life and work of women and girls.
The Editor is well aware that his readers would like to see the portraits of
some of the tried and true friends who have given such devoted service. He
therefore adds them here, and they form, he thinks, a fitting accompaniment
to this notice of what has led up—in quite a marvellous manner, and by God’s
blessing—to the publication of the present Thousandth Number of The Girl’s Own
Paper.

IN THE TWILIGHT SIDE BY SIDE.
By RUTH LAMB.
PART V.
ANOTHER OPEN EVENING.
“But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in
glory by Christ Jesus.”—Philippians iv. 19.
OR some months past, my dear girl friends, I have been
equally gratified and troubled by the sight of a large pile of
your letters on my table—gratified, because they are full of
sweet confidences, requests for advice and help, grateful
allusions to benefits which have resulted from our talks in the
twilight, and affectionate expressions towards myself. As a
whole, your letters have been a source of great joy to me; but, on the other
hand, it has grieved me to think that some of you have hoped and waited in
vain for replies which never came.
Believe me, I would have written to each and all of you had it been possible.
Conscience does not reproach me for having wilfully neglected you; but I have
had a good many heartaches on your account.
Who does not know the trial of looking and waiting in vain for a friend’s letter?
I cannot now address you singly; but an open evening will again bring us more
into touch with each other, as a former one did a few months ago.
It is alike delightful and wonderful to note the results of that night’s talk,
during which we had glimpses of each other’s thoughts, needs, and longings.
Subsequent letters have shown me how the words of one girl-writer have
stirred the hearts of many to prayer on her behalf, and in some cases they
have asked, “How can I be of real use to another member of our gathering?”

Some have been brought into closer relationship with each other as
correspondents, and I trust the result will be beneficial to all of them.
Several of my correspondents have asked that evenings should be devoted to
subjects of special interest to themselves and many others, but which do not
come within the scope of our object in meeting. Let me remind you, dear
friends, who, from the most worthy motives, have suggested the consideration
of such subjects, how varied are the classes, ages, nationalities, and even the
religious views of those who meet with me in the twilight. It will be obvious to
you that the usefulness of our meetings would be imperilled, were we to
introduce any subject likely to arouse an antagonistic feeling even in the minds
of a few.
Several of our recent talks have been devoted to smoothing away the
difficulties which many dear girls meet with in their first efforts at self-
dedication. They are answers to inquiries and requests for help which have
come from many quarters. I do earnestly hope and pray that, by God’s
blessing, they will be found useful and helpful to many others besides my dear
correspondents.
I think that many amongst you who ask questions would do well to refer back
to some of our earlier talks, which all who now meet with me may not have
read. They began in September, 1896, and have been continued monthly ever
since.
It is delightful to find how many of my girls do refer back to the old talks for
help and comfort; and, to you all, it must be very cheering to know that God
has blessed the words of some to the good of others. Here is an instance. One
dear correspondent had been telling me a great deal about the many worries
and anxieties of daily life, and of the relief it was to open her heart to
someone who was, she felt sure, “interested in us girls.”
With a mother ill in bed, and who must not be told anything about the worries
incidental to the large family, the servants, and home which needed constant
oversight, my young correspondent was feeling overweighted, and wrote—
“Oh, how mistaken people are who think one has nothing to do but take it
easy and enjoy oneself! If they only knew! Still, I am wicked to grumble so!
These little ‘thorns in the flesh’ are nothing compared with what so many have
to bear. This morning I was ready to break down and have a real hearty cry, a
thing I do not often indulge in. I had no opportunity just then. I took up at
random a back number of the ‘G. O. P.’ and opened it at the ‘Twilight Talk.’ It
seemed just meant for me. There was an extract from the letter of a girl who
seemed to have my feelings exactly, and her words did help me so. I hope you

will never give up writing to us whilst you are able to do so. I pray for you and
for all our ‘Twilight Circle,’ and that we may all, both you and me, gain more
and more blessing from our monthly meetings.”... “I do so want to make a
fresh start and try to overcome my temptations. It is so nice to know that you
are praying for us—for me. May the dear Lord bless you exceeding abundantly
with the blessing that maketh rich and addeth no sorrow to it, is the prayer of
‘One of your most loving girls.’”
You will all, I am sure, understand, that in giving abstracts from such letters, I
am anxious for every member of our “Twilight Circle” to share a great pleasure
with me. That our talks should have been so largely blessed, and that the
interest taken in them is continually deepening and extending, is a matter
which concerns each of us. We must all benefit by being permitted to read
each other’s hearts and knowing that we are not alone in our experiences,
whether of joy or sorrow.
It is wonderful how two or three words often stir us to sympathy and incline
us to confidence. Here is an instance from the letter of one who had lately
known a great sorrow.
“Last month I was feeling so miserable when my paper arrived; and somehow
I felt better after reading that kind remark you made about someone who told
you she was a ‘motherless bairn.’ I have lost my mother too, and have not yet
got used to being without her. You will understand how dreary everything
seems sometimes; but when I read the ‘Twilight Talks,’ it makes me feel that
there is still something left to live for. My life seems very poor and mean when
judged by your standard, and it is very hard to reach, and sometimes seems a
hopeless task.”
I pause here to say that the standard I strive to place before you, beloved
ones, and myself, being God’s standard, as shown to us in the life of our Lord
Jesus Christ, makes all our lives seem poor and mean—none more so than my
own. Thanks be to God! He has taught me by His Spirit to look from my own
weakness to His strength, from my sinfulness to Him, in whom I believe, and
“Who bare my sins in His own body on the tree”; from my poor efforts after
holiness, which are too often only a record of failures, to the perfect
righteousness of Christ, which is the precious heritage of all who trust in His
sacrifice alone for salvation.
We must not give up striving, or lose courage by looking too much at
ourselves. We must look up to Christ, and, though we have sorely lagged
behind in our attempts to follow Him, and met with many disappointments by
the way, we must still keep on. We must endeavour to imitate the Christ-life,

but trusting the while in the sweet assurance that “He became sin (or a sin-
offering) for us that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.”
Looking at self, we despair. Turning from self to Christ, we find that He has
fulfilled the whole law, and that, believing in His finished work, we are
“justified by faith and have peace with God.” Yet, even when we do realise
what Christ has done, how dissatisfied we are with our own poor efforts to
show that we love and want to be like Him! Everything in Him is so grandly
perfect, and so many littlenesses creep into our best efforts that we are
ashamed to look at them.
A dear correspondent gives us a picture which many of us will own to be a
reflection of our own feelings.
“I am one of His weak ones, yet longing to live the life that shall glorify Him
most. The thing that grieves me so is that I have so little love in my heart
towards Him. It is not strong as it ought to be; but Jesus is so precious to me
that I want above all things to lead others to Him, that they may know what a
Saviour He is!”
Happy girl! To be able to see so much in Christ, so little in self! It is the
dissatisfied disciples who cannot be contented to follow their Master “afar off.”
They must be ever praying and striving after a closer union with and greater
likeness to their Lord. If one of you should write and say, “I am quite satisfied
with myself, I am doing the best I can, and I am sure nobody can find fault
with me,” I should be very, very sorry for her.
The student who has mastered the rudiments of a science does not sit down
contented with the little he knows. He looks to the highest level of knowledge
which has been attained by those who have gone before him, and says to
himself, “If hard work, earnest, painstaking study and perseverance will do it, I
will go a step beyond.”
Many years ago I stood by the death-bed of one who had long passed the
fourscore years whose strength is described in God’s word as “labour and
sorrow.” She did not talk of what she had done for Christ; but in a few words
expressed her sense of what He had done for her.
“All in Christ—nothing in me.”
A volume could not have expressed more than did these half-dozen words; but
the light in those aged eyes, and the expression on the face were pledges of
the sincerity of the dying speaker.
May you go on and on until, losing sight of self and its poverty of service and
of love, you can say, “I have fought the good fight, looking to the Captain of

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