Day After Day: Sixteen
Muriel and May cement their relationships with Harold and John by sending frequent letters.
Jean Day continues her romantic novel which conveys the manners and morals of society at the end of the Victorian era. To read earlier chapters click on Day After Day in the menu on this page.
January 1902
After Christmas, when John had returned to Oxford and Harold to his college, May and Muriel regularly corresponded with them. Now Muriel wrote only to Harold, and May to John. The girls no longer completely shared their letters.
Muriel wrote to Harold:
Dear Harold,
I know that you are dedicating your life to finding tin, and I am sure that is a worthwhile occupation, but it occurs to me, that I really know very little about what tin is used for. Perhaps in your next letter you could enlighten me.
Here is my quotation for you. “The best way to become acquainted with a subject is to write a book about it.”
Do you know who said that? Perhaps I should write a book about tin and tin mining so that I could learn about it properly.
Love,
Muriel
In reply Harold wrote:
Dear Muriel
I think what you quoted came from Disraeli. Am I right?
You asked about the uses for tin. There are so many it is hard to list them all, but the main one is as a coating for iron to keep it from rusting. This is called galvanising. There are two forms of tin but the one that has most use is called white tin. It is formed by heating grey tin above 55.76º. It will turn back to grey tin if its temperature falls below that level, so small amounts of antimony or bismuth are added to white tin to keep it from doing that.
Tin cans are the most familiar example of galvanising. The can is made from steel, then a thin layer of tin is applied inside and out to keep it from rusting. Tin is also used in the Pilkington process of making glass. Molten glass is poured onto a pool of molten tin. The glass floats on the surface of the tin and cools, forming solid glass with flat parallel surfaces which are need to make window glass. Tin combined with copper makes bronze, and with lead pewter and solder.
I hope you don’t find that too boring, but you did ask. I am always pleased to have a suggestion as to what to write in a letter, as sometimes it is hard to think of things to say.
My quotation for you is, ‘I have made this letter longer because I have not had time to make it shorter.’ Who said that?
Love,
Harold
The late winter and early spring was a dull time for Muriel. She decided to follow up Mr. Tree’s suggestion regarding her grandmother Martha Trew’s poetry, sending it to various magazines. She had copied out each poem in a fair hand for the poetry-choosing session with her friends, so there was no need to do that over again. All that was necessary was to decide who to send the poems to.
To assemble a list of suitable publications she visited local book stores and the library. She also spoke to the literature tutors at the Victoria Institute. Having obtained their advice she sent poems to the following magazines:
The British Women’s Club Health and Beauty Magazine - the poems entitled Human Frailty and The World Is But A Fleeting Shadow.
Everyday Housekeeping - Forget Me Not and Happiness.
The Young Woman – My God, the poem about a young woman who was continually taking God's name in vain.
MacMillan Magazine – the poem about the Queen.
Harper's Bazaar, an American magazine - On The Daintiest.
There were also two magazines which were to be launched later in the year. They were already accepting material, so she decided to try them.
To The Hibbert Journal she sent Sonnet On Madame Malibian and to The Women’s Magazine the poem Guildford Castle, with the illustration her grandmother had done to accompany it.
Amother letter arrived from Harold dated May 10th, 1902:
Dear Muriel,
I know it will be your birthday soon. I hope you have a very wonderful day.
We had a good time at the Trethisick Festival. I had hoped you might come, but there is always next year. I missed having you here. I felt rather left out, since I would have been proud to show you off as my girlfriend.
The weather here has been very good, and I am really enjoying the extra mildness after the sharp winds we often had in Worcestershire.
Here is my quotation for this letter. I know you are an artist so I hope you won’t be offended:
‘Painting: The art of protecting flat surfaces from the weather and exposing them to the critic.’
Love from Harold
Muriel replied:
June 1st
Dear Harold,
I didn’t know your quote. I got a book from the library which lists quotations, but I couldn't find any reference to it. You will have to tell me.
My art work is progressing, but it isn’t the conventional art of paint on paper. I have made some very ornate tables in my woodworking class, carving them with patterns. I can’t wait for you to come home so I can show them to you.
I am still pursuing the idea of having great-grandmother’s poetry published. I have sent them out to various magazines. I hope at least one of them will be accepted. I have not had any replies yet.
Will you have time off in the summer? I expect your term will be finished by the end of June, though I am not sure. Perhaps your terms are longer than those at other colleges. John will be home soon. The Oxford terms only last eight weeks. May is eager to see him again. I am wondering if he will ask her to marry him. They do seem very close.
It is hard to think of things to write about. Perhaps you could ask me questions too. I could rant and rave about the local gossip, but somehow I don’t think that would interest you. I hope to be seeing you soon.
My quote for this letter is:
‘Let each man exercise the art he knows.’
Love,
Muriel
*
John and Harold duly came home for the summer, and May and Muriel spent as much time as possible with them. However, no rings were exchanged.
Muriel received letters from three of the magazines which she had contacted. Two said the material was not suitable for their publications. The third said they had all the material they needed for the time being. Even though Muriel had not written the poems she felt a sense of personel hurt. She had so hoped to share her grandmother's words with the world. At least she had tried.
*
There was one sad event at that time. Mary Walker, Charlotte’s mother, died suddenly. This was a great shock to the family. Mr Walker remained obdurate in his attitude to his daughters who had chosen to leave home. He did not allow them to attend their mother's funeral.
Privately, Charlotte thought her father was behaving more and more irrationaly and was finding him very difficult to cope with.
