The School Girl's Corner

Suggestions to Young Misses Who are Planning to Come East this Fall for Educational Purposes

DONALD OGDEN STEWART

EVERY Fall a larger number of young girls leave home to come East to the various Finishing Schools in this section of the country. For the benefit of those who are making this trip for the first time, this magazine has organized a young Misses' Educational Bureau under the personal direction of Elwell G. Fish. Mr. Fish has had wide experience with young girls and their problems, and all should feel perfectly free to consult him at any time, in regard to the perplexing questions of budding girlhood. Mr. Fish's experience extends over a period of several years —in ballroom, limousine and lounge—and the young girl who comes to him may feel certain that she and her problems will meet with sympathetic treatment.

In this issue Mr. Fish has outlined a few of the more important points in connection with the preliminaries to the trip East, together with minute instructions as to the journey itself.

It must be understood, however, that these few broad suggestions cannot possibly cover all cases, and for that reason the girls are urged to write to our Educational Bureau, frankly stating their individual problems and enclosing a recent photograph.

J. Selecting an Educational Institution

THIS is, of course, mainly a parent's problem and is best solved by resorting to the following formula: Let A and B represent two young girls' finishing schools in the East. Mrs. Raleigh-Jones (X), from the West, sends her daughter to A; Mrs. Borax (Y), from the same city, sends her daughter to B. Upon consulting the local social register, it is found that' Mr. Raleigh-Jones is a member of the Union, Colonial, Town and Country, and Valley Hunt Clubs; upon consulting the telephone directory it is found that the Borax's live at 1217 S. Main Street, and that Mr. Borax is an undertaker. Shall Mrs. F. B. Gerald (Z) send her daughter Annette to A or to B, and why?

Answer: A, because life is real, life is earnest, and the grave is not its goal.

2.Clothes

HAVING selected an educational institution, the next requisite is a suitable equipment. Girls who live in other parts of the United States are often surprised to discover that the clothes which they have purchased at the best store in their home town are totally unsuited for the rough climate of the East. I would, therefore, recommend the following list, subject, of course, to variation in individual cases:

1 Dress, chine, crepe de, pink, for dancing.

1 Dress, chine, crepe de, pink, for petting.

1 Dress, Swiss, Dotted, blue, or

1 Dress, Swiss, undotted, white.

15 yards Tulle, best quality, pink.

4 bottles perfume, domestic, or

1 bottle, perfume, French.

12 Dozen Dorine, men's pocket size.

6 Soles, cami, assorted.

1 Corset, fully equipped (these are still required for prom-trotters at some of the older institutions, although I understand that Yale, Harvard and Princeton have recently lowered their requirements).

1 Brassiere, or riding habit.

100 boxes aspirin, for dances and houseparties.

1 wave, permanent, for conversation.

24 waves, temporary.

10,000 nets, hair.

100,000 pins, hair.

1 bottle Quelques Fleurs, for knockout.

3. En Route

AFTER the purchase of a complete outfit, it will be necessary to say goodbye to one's local friends. Partings are always somewhat sad, but it will be found that much simple pleasure may be derived from the last nights with the various boys to whom one is engaged.

In this connection, however, it would be well to avoid making any rash statements regarding undying friendship and affection, because, when you next see Eddie or Walter, at Christmas time, you will have been three months in the East, while they have been at the State University, and really, after one starts dancing with Yale men—well, it's a funny world.

In buying your railroad ticket, it is cheaper to get an upper berth; it will be found on boarding the train, that the man who has the lower will be only too glad to exchange with you. Men only buy lower berths, as a matter of fact, for the exquisite pleasure it brings them when they give them up to the inevitable lady. Quite probably it will be found also that some acquaintance from your city is returning to Harvard or Princeton on the same train, thus saving you the expense of any meals en route. Thrift, as John Wanamaker so quaintly puts it, is the secret of success.

In case, however, you do not happen to meet any friends on the train, the surest way to protect yourself from any unwelcome advances is to buy a copy of the Atlantic Monthly and carry it, in plain view. Next to a hair lip, this is the safest protection for a travelling young girl that I know of; it has, however, the one objection that all the old ladies on the train are likely to tell you what they think of Katherine Fullerton Gerould, or their rheumatism.

If you are compelled to go to the dining car alone, you will probably sit beside an Elk with white socks, who will call the waiter "George."

Along about the second course he will say to you, "It's warm for September, isn't it?" to which you should answer "No." That will dispose of the Elk.

Across the table from you will be a Grand Army man and his wife, going to visit their boy Elmer's wife's folks in Schenectady. When the fish is served, the Grand Army man will choke on a bone. Let him choke, but do not be too hopeful, as the chances are that he will dislodge the bone. All will go well until the dessert, when his wife will begin telling how raspberry sherbet always disagrees with her. Offer her your raspberry sherbet.

After dinner you may wish to read for a while, but the porter will probably have made up all the berths for the night. It will also be found that the light in your berth does not work, so you will be awake for a long time; finally, just as you are leaving Buffalo, you will at last get to sleep, and when you open your eyes again, you will be—in Buffalo.

There will be two more awakenings that night—once at Batavia, where a merry wedding party with horns and cow bells will follow the lucky bride and groom into your car, and once at Schenectady, where the Pullman car shockabsorbing tests are held. The next morning, tired but unhappy, you will reach New York.

4. In New York

OUITE possibly, you will have a day or so in the metropolis before going on to your school. Mr. Fish meets all trains, and will be only too glad to supervise your sight-seeing tour, in and around the big city. For those who cannot afford the advantages of this service, the following suggestions are offered:

The Aquarium. Take Fifth Avenue bus to Times Square. Transfer to 42nd Street Crosstown. Get off at 44th Street, and walk one block south to the Biltmore. The most interesting fish will be found underneath the hanging clock, near the telephone booths.

Grant's Tomb. Take P'ifth Avenue bus, and a light lunch. Change at Washington Square, to a blue serge or dotted Swiss. Ride to the end of the line, and walk three blocks east. 'Then return the same way you came, followed by three fast sets of tennis, a light supper and early to bed. If you do not feel better in the morning, cut out milk, fresh fruit and uncooked foods, for awhile.

Metropolitan Museum of Art. Take Subway to Brooklyn. (Flatbush.) Then ask the subway guard where to go; he will tell you.

The Bronx. Take three oranges, a lemon, three of gin to one of vermouth, with a dash of bitters. Serve cold.

The Ritz. Take taxicab and fifty dollars. If you only have fifty dollars the filet of sole Margucry, is very good.

Brooklyn Bridge. Terrible. And their auction is worse.

When you have visited all these places, it will probably be time to take the train to your school.

Next month we shall discuss the problems which arise during the first term at school, such as the trip to New Haven, the first petting, and Harvard men.