they but know how to set about it. It is more especially to them and others who are not able to visit the hovels of the London poor that I would submit the consideration of my little plan, one which has at least the merit of having been found to work well in practice.
It is not necessary, let me tell my lady readers, to buy all the materials for clothing the poor. Only a small outlay is requisite, and it need not exceed a couple of pounds yearly. In the first place, you can tell your linendraper who usually supplies you with calico, printed cambrics, &c., to procure some cotton patchwork. This is sold by the pound, and is not very expensive. In addition to these pieces, he will probably, at your request, permit his assistants to save some of the fag ends. These fag-ends are the beginnings and ends of all manufactured goods, such as calicos, cambrics, flannels, &c. In many cases they serve to show the name of the manufacturer, or the number for future orders, or the quantity of yards in each piece, and though perfectly useless to the shopkeeper, will be of great service in making clothes for the poor.
If you tell him you require them for a charitable purpose, he will doubtless put with them any small pieces of faded goods he may have that would be useless to any one else. Remnants of all sorts for little frocks and coloured petticoats can be purchased at a most reasonable price, wherever you may deal. I recommend you to work solely on childrens’ clothing, as these fag-ends will seldom serve for larger garments. Little hands, moreover, might become coarse and expand (which is not desirable) over rougher and larger work, like womens’ aprons and flannel petticoats. Those can be made at our Dorcas meetings, and sold or given away upon a regular organised system. The list and strips of flannel which you will find among these pieces make beautiful flannel petticoats, and I know that they last as long as those made out of a piece. In the patchwork which you buy you will find good-sized patterns of cotton print, many of them of the same size and cut evenly. These make up splendid counterpanes for old women. They should be neatly run together and the hems or edges herring-boned. I consider this tidier and prettier than the old fashion of sewing the bits together and leaving raw edges on the wrong side. When completed, the whole looks very neat and pretty, and requires no lining. If you prefer a lining, it must be a loose one, of thin calico or holland, as it is difficult to wash patchwork counterpanes with a thick quilted lining, and I know the poor old women find them too heavy to wash when made up in this fashion.
The prettiest work of all is the flannel petticoats. These should be made thus:—The strips of flannel should be run together and herring-boned down on the wrong side, like the counterpanes. When completed they are very neat. The stripes in the flannel make them look pretty and compact, particularly if run together with taste. The strips must be run round and not downwards. One strip and a half will make the circumference of a small petticoat. An unpleasant odour will be at first scented in the new flannel; this can be remedied by placing a tablet of almond soap among the flannel strips a day or two before you touch the work. A little fluff may also fall upon your dress in the course of this needlework. I would, therefore, recommend you to wear for the time a large linen apron, which will protect your things from everything obnoxious in this respect. A young child at the same time might sit at your side and tear up waste clean paper for the mattresses and pillows for the poor.
These mattresses, when well made, serve as admirable beddings for the sick and infants among the poor, who have often nothing better than sacks filled with shavings to lie upon. They should be made thus:—The paper must be torn up into a basket which will not tip over. It must first of all be folded, and then be torn towards one’s self, in the seams, into strips; each strip should be torn into bits no larger than half a postage stamp. One thing is necessary to be observed in this part of the work—the paper must never be torn double, and each bit must drop separately into the basket. There will be lumps for ever in the pillow or bedding should you neglect this caution. I have found out to my cost that, though you may shake the basket of bits, when they are thrown in doubled together they don’t divide, and you put lumps into the case of linen or ticking, or whatever you prefer for the same pillow or mattress. No bits with sealing wax or gum upon them, such as some portions of an envelope, should ever be dropped in, neither any coloured paper, because poisons are now and then used in their tints by the manufacturers, in the same way as arsenic is employed in the colouring of green muslin. I have been told by a good authority in the matter that newspaper stuffing is healthy, on account of printers’ ink being peculiarly wholesome. For my own part I should prefer a pillow or mattress made of one sort of paper, either all newspaper and printed forms, such as circulars and clean old book sheets, or letter paper. Your friends might tear up their letters which they do not wish to preserve, and contribute with advantage to your waste-paper