Monday 2 December 2013

Figaro At Home. Fashion & Gossip. 1884.

Queensland Figaro Brisbane, Qld.
Saturday 2 February 1884







































Figaro At Home.
I am happy to be able to inform the patrons of Figaro that I have engaged a talented and well-known lady, who moves in good society here, to edit a Social Column. This column will contain all the small-talk of society, discuss the babble so dear to the Fair Sex, chronicle all social events worthy of being noticed, note all the local changes in fashion—in fact, furnish an interesting record of the conversational pabulum to be heard at that modern ladies' institution, the 4 o'clock tea. Contributions for this column will be treated with the greatest secrecy. They should be addressed to the "Social Editress"
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Merry prattling, tittle tattling,
In the social walk,
Small arms rattling—no big Gatling—.
Fashion's loved small-talk.
Note a mash on, note her sash on,
Note him put on side,
Love and passion, waltz in fashion
"Hop" or "limp" or "glide."
Who has carried off and married
Some gilt-edged gay dude,
Who has harried hearts and parried
By skedaddling rude.
Balls and parties, cakes and tarties,
Jilting’s and divorces
Fitz-Mc Cartys, Moriartys
All that here, of course, is.

Gussy Spooner, Mary Mooner,
Fop and wit and noodle,
Notes the tuner late or sooner—
Notes the whole caboodle.
































Small tea picnic at Sandgate last week. Given by a jovial M.L.A. Select, and very enjoyable.
Many of the young ladies are adopting the mode of combing the hair from the back of the neck and coiling it round the crown of the head. This style is very becoming to those whose necks are white and slender.
Mr. and Mrs. De Poix Tyrell arrived in Brisbane from the old country via America, New Zealand, Tasmania, Melbourne, and Sydney on Monday last. Their many friends will rejoice to learn that Mrs. Tyrell, who, previous to leaving Brisbane, suffered from a long and serious illness, is now in excellent health and spirits, while "Johnnie comes marching home again to all appearance much better for the change.

Dance at South Brisbane on Thursday night to celebrate a christening. More about this interesting little ceremony by-and-bye.

"The slab-sided, flat-chested Graces" is the uncommon name bestowed on three sisters whose figures; are not remarkable for beauty. _ And who do you suppose commanded this flattering cognomen? The mashers? Oh, no! The ladies!

A Brisbane belle is about to leave us. "There is really no select society here."

A very pretty costume worn by a young" lady in Queen Street this week was of grey nun's veiling trimmed with tartan, surah, and grey lace. Another equally deserving of admiration was white lawn with large soft bows of old gold coloured silk; silk bonnet, gloves, and parasol en suite.

A fair trio, sisters, who live near the N.S.W. border, and are nieces of a prominent Government official here, are to be married in April or May to gentlemen, all of whom reside at Tenterfield, one being the Mayor of that town.

                             Image from: - The Farmer and Settler. NSW. 15 November. 1907.

Thompson's patent coiled spring elastic section is the very latest invention in corsets. It is imported by Edwards & Chapman, and is well worth, at least, inspecting. The excellence of the new style is at once apparent. 
In the best make of ordinary corsets is inserted an elastic section, by means of which art so blends with nature that a perfect fit is effected, together with a graceful and symmetrical figure. By this patent, comfort instead of being sacrificed, is in the highest degree promoted; the body is braced and supported so equally all over, that there is no constraint or strain on any part. Freedom is secured to all the organs by means of a beautifully concealed mechanism, which will vibrate with their action, and, as it will expand or contract, it  adapts itself to every motion of the body that ease is experienced in every movement and any posture, producing a sense of lightness and relief which no corset has yet imparted.


Last Sunday morning, in Trinity Church of England, Valley, a lady, while listening to the Rev. H. G 'eloquent discourse, went fast to sleep, her head gradually inclined backwards, when, lo! Her bonnet fell off into the pew behind. Imagine her astonishment when she awoke and found her bonnet gone. 

Image from:- Australian Town and Country Journal NSW 5 October 1889

Moral—If you want to sleep, don't go to church to do it.

I am always pleased to hear of presentations—especially to Ministers. And it is, therefore, with feelings of devout thanksgiving and admiration that I read of the testimonials his admirers have seen fit to hand over to the Rev. G. 0. Cocks, late Wesleyan minister in the Gympie district and who has left that locality for Sydney. 
Whether he took his treasures with him or not, is not on record. 
Such treasures! He has gone to attend two conferences down South—one, the Wesleyan Conference, the other something that will “altar" him from a "Bach, to a ben.
"It was in view of the latter event, I presume that the presents took the form they did. The Surface Hill Sand of Hope gave him a festive pickle-bottle! There is evidently some ill under this Surface 'ill Band, which is not exactly according to Cock(s)er.
What memories will enshrine themselves around each action, when the Rev. Cocks makes a wild stab at the slippery ingan in that memento from the Band of Hope! It will be a pickled memory, so to speak! Other presents were a cruet-stand and a biscuit-case.

Not long ago a Bowen Hills belle who was exceedingly timid on water married a gentleman passionately fond of yachting. A confiding trust in the one she loved, however, seems to have dispelled her fears as it is reported she started up in her sleep a few nights ago, pulled the sheet over: the head-board, and called out, " It’s all right now, Charles. Hoist the sail, luff her head to the wind and let her rip. Who's afraid? "From a scientific point of view this clearly proves that a too sensitive nervous temperament can be effectually cured by establishing implicit confidence. We owe a deal to science—and the baker.


It is not the richness of the material that makes style and elegance, but good fit and suitable colours. 

If you are stout, reduce your size by long lines; if tall and thin, puffs and plaids will suit you. Short waists, also, are more suitable to short persons, than long waists, for the longer the skirt, the taller the person looks.

The following law remained in force on the English statute books until 1770 when, unluckily for the male sex, it was repealed:—

"Whoever shall entice into matrimony any male subject of the realm by means of rouge, white paint, Spanish cotton, steel corsets, crinoline, high-heeled shoes, or false hips, shall be prosecuted for witchcraft, and such marriage declared null and void."

If that law was enforced to-day our Divorce Court judges would have a very lively time of it.

                        Image From: Woroni. Canberra, ACT: 5 August 1980

Among the countless changes of fashion black retains its popularity for old, middle-aged, and young. There never was a time when the demand for black silk exceeded that of to-day, nor money so freely lavished upon the rich satins, rhadimirs, and grosgrains, not to mention the newer Ottomans, than now.

I was prepared, if necessary, as I intimated to my readers last week, to publish full particulars of a scandal concerning a Church of England clergyman of Brisbane, and a fair girl from another colony. As events have fallen out, I find it is not necessary to allude further to the matter. Sufficient action has been taken, the same having been precipitated by my par. of last week.

It's awfully mean to tell tales out of school of course, but Figaro was a bit gone on this particular girl himself, and, therefore, who cares for the consequences. [Nota Bene—especially Bene.—Mrs. Fig. is away for the Xmas. holidays.—Ed. F.) There was a fancy dress ball held at something less than a million of miles from (say) Brisbane, 


and he, the commercial traveller arrived just in time for the gay shivoo.
As he was a few days before his time, the wife had gone to see her mamma, so he bundled off unprotected. 

Oh! the anguish of that thought. Cuddle me once again, Eliza.—Ed. F.J On his way home he thought, it advisable to put his arm round the waist of a Kangaroo Point belle, just to keep the mosquitos and stray kanakas from assaulting her, and things ran smoothly along until he was completely upended by his fair enslaver unlocking his own gate and observing," Tat ta, lovey; you'll be sure to call round to the post next Sunday.



And don't forget to wear a red camellia for fear I shouldn't recognise you." “But, yes
—quite so," cried the do-'em-at-15-per-cent.-less-than any-other-house-in-the-trade gentleman, " but look here, Miss; you surely do not live here, do you ? " "Indeed I do," replied the seraph, "I came here last Tuesday week as cook, an' th' Misssus is the most cantankerous devil that ever breathes."He had been there himself and knew it.

So he stepped round the corner till the new girl went to bed, and then sat for four lonely hours on his virtuous couch wondering how he'd look when his vinegar-bottle spouse observed,
”Jane, will you kindly help the master to the mustard."

There have been few local topics of interest to report during this week. Small-talk at the 4 o'clock teas has been almost exclusively confined to the discussion of the clerical scandal I hinted at last week. 

I have referred to this elsewhere, but as this par. is written at a later period of time, I may here add that some friends of the amorous Shepherd have stuck to him stoutly.  A subscription has been raised on his behalf, and he will shortly leave Queensland.

Image from: pg 6, Queensland Figaro. Brisbane, Qld. 15 Dec 1904.


Sunday 1 December 2013

A Christmas Poet: from the Molong Express. 1903.

































Image Sunday Times Sydney 1924.

The Clarence River Advocate NSW
2 Jan 1903

A Christmas Poet.

The Molong Express says:—

Our old friend Mr. W. Kelly, of Richmond (Hawkesbury River),
hasn't been an alderman 27 years and Mayor six or seven consecutive times for nothing. 
Not by long chalks. 
He is now a tight up to-date Xmas poet.
We don t as a rule speculate largely in poetic stock, especially from bucolic sources, but as our alderman friend has solemnly promised never to do it again, we have decided to rescue the following lines from oblivion :-

—So here's to Sir John with his promises long,
And here's to our ladies whose hearts beat so strong,
Drink down all your sorrows and if you can't pay.
Our friend of the Royal will meet you half way.
And although little Molong may be somewhat
Poor
It can still boast of honesty to every man's door.
Hence EXPRESS it hopes and humbly does
pray.
That no one goes hungry on this Christmas Day.
We all know that Christmas comes but once a year
With heaps of good cakes and plenty of beer.
So now the drought's ended let's give one great cheer,
And wish all our friends a prosp'rous New Year.


"Elwy and Edgar". Original Poetry.1892

                              Image from:-The Land Sydney, NSW. Friday 26 January 1940


The Queenslander Brisbane, Qld
31st December 1892

LITERARY

Original Poetry.

[WRITTEN FOR THE QUEENSLANDER.]

Elwy and Edgar.

A ROUNDELAY OF THE OLDEN TIME.

[Place: "The Holy Height"-a small hill in East Wales, supposed to be haunted, and where an old fortune teller lived, regarded by many as a Witch.)Time" New Year's Eve.

ELWY:-

Ancient Witch on the Holy Height.                                                   
Sitting so still by the haunted yew!
I would ask this solemn night,
Is my Edgar false or true?
Oh I the vows he hath sworn,
Both late and at morn,
All under the hawthorn shade!

Black as the raven's he called my hair.
Red my lips as the rose in June,
Blue my eyes as the rainbow rare,
Arching the by in a showery noon—
Oh the vows he hath sworn
Both late and at morn,
All under the hawthorn shade!

“True," he said, "is my faithful heart,
As God's own truth in the upper sky;
With thee, dear, I can never part
Love me, love, or I shall die "
Oh! the vows he hath sworn,
Both late and at morn,
All under the hawthorn shade!

Kind old Witch on the Holy Height,
Sitting so still by the haunted yew
I would ask this solemn night,
Is my Edgar false or true?
Oh the vows he hath sworn,
Both late and at morn,
All under the hawthorn shade

WITCH:-

Maiden, pride of thy father's hall
Edgar, I fear, is false to thee;
Yester eve, when the darksome pall
Of the night's shadows fell o'er the lea,
I heard vows sworn—
To my ears they were borne
From under the hawthorn shade.

Close by his side a maiden sat,
Sat, and murmured words so sweet
Oh! 'twas a softer voice than that,
Now beseeching me at my feet!
The deep vows sworn,
She did not scorn,
All under the hawthorn shade!

ELWY:-

Cruel Witch my life is o'er!
And poor Elwy will be seen
At the Holy Feast no more,
Nor upon the verdant green;
Some night or morn,
I'll die forlorn,
All under the hawthorn shade!

WITCH:-

(Throwing off her disguise and revealing Edgar.)
Darling! Let me clasp thee tight!
Elwy is to Edgar true
I took the place of the Witch to-night;
She is crooning behind the yew.
To thee the vows sworn,
Both late and at morn,
All under the hawthorn shade!

Darling! Thou shalt be my wife!
Edgar is to Elwy true;
Tested both, let us pass through life.
Pledged once more by the haunted yew!

BOTH:-

God bless the vows sworn,
At eve and at morn,
All under the hawthorn shade!

Brisbane A.C.S.