Miss Kenyons’ Letter – Summer Term 1917

Miri Ahmednagar Districts
Bombay Presidency
January 30th, 1917


Before me a great stretch of brown plain, broken only by an occasional tree. Just in the compound there is a straggling tree or two as some attempt at a garden, but there is no hedge or anything else to divide us off from the plain. There is an ugly little brown School on the right; and a few small children in red byadis are sitting outside, and from the back comes a good deal of noise where I fancy, a meal is going on.
I am only here temporarily: St. Monica’s School at Nagar is by way of being my “sphere of work,” but it was thought good that I should conic here for a month to see something of life in the districts. and visit the villages, that I might know the kind of homes the children come from. So, I have had a busy month “sight-seeing,” and it certainly has been very interesting.
I can’t say the villages are beautiful-just a collection of grey buildings, looking rather desolate and forsaken. There is generally a big grey archway that is quite imposing, though there’s no wall. The Christians are all from the Outcastes and live outside the villages, some just in low mud huts, with only one room; but some seem quite well oft. and have quite fair-sized houses. They are all just dumped down anyhow, and among them are open sheds for bullocks, and goats: these latter, and thin, disagreeable dogs, wander about among the hovels: and there are plump and naked children who conic up to stare, and little girls rather more dressed and a bit shy at first; and women in dark byadis, red or green very often, who walk with a swinging tread, carrying bright brass pots on their heads; end men, in dirty white with crimson turbans in the morning they are enveloped in blankets, and they generally seem free to give informa­tion when we want it and to stand about and watch the women being taught, whether we want or not. These people are almost all entirely uneducated, and it is slow work teaching them. One longs to be able to get hold of all the children. There is very often a small Christian School under a Master, but the Indian men don’t seem very good at teaching, and the children come irregularly; so, it isn’t always entirely satisfactory.
As many children as possible are taken as boarders in the district schools. There one of the English Missionaries supervises, and the teaching is done by Indian girls, most of whom have been trained at St. Monica’s.

From Miri I suppose about a dozen villages are visited regularly by women Missionaries. I will tell you of one I went to with Miss Broomfield and the Bible-woman. Started at 6.30 (we have to go early or the women will probably be out) Miss Broomfield entertained me with the story of how the wheel came off as she went by that road before, and one was rather loose this time! However, in spite of much jolting, we arrived safely, and then went round to find the women; went into one low mud hut, where was a woman with a tiny baby a few days old; talked outside a second to two or three people at once, and so on to others; and then sat down outside one of the houses and waited for the women to collect. There were a number of children there-very friendly ones, too-so I took them off, that the women might be taught undisturbed. The Bible-woman took that class, and Miss Broomfield went on to teach in another part. Afterwards, we went on into the village, where the Caste people are quite friendly, and will even listen to a certain amount of teaching when there is time to give it them. That day there wasn’t! for there was such a demand for medicine. First, a small boy, whose broken head had been plastered up by some disagreeable black stuff. He sat on his mother’s lap and Miss Broomfield doctored him, while a crowd rapidly gathered, all very anxious to be attended to and talking very loudly, some trying (without much avail) to make them understand what they wanted; babies crying, and mothers discussing their ail­ments; and all the time Miss Broomfield, in the midst, went serenely on, quite deliberately dealing with one after another, till all were satisfied (except perhaps a man who brought up a pony to be doctored, but was told that that was beyond our knowledge!) Then there was a child with plague to be seen, and a certain amount of “small talk” before we finally got off, and so back to Miri about 12 (but we were not usually as late as that).
Besides the near villages, there are many others that are too far for us to go to, except camping; so there the women have to be left to the Catechists, except, perhaps, for a week’s visit or so once a year. If only the staff were larger it should be possible to camp four months in the year, and much more could be done. I suppose it is the same in every Mission Station: it does seem as though so much might be accomplished if only there were more workers. Won’t some of the Old Girls who are now doing war work come out after the war? Per­haps some might come on a six-months’ visit, just to see what things were like. I’m sure they’d enjoy it, and might be most useful too.
A certain amount of village work is done from Nagar too, but the Schools are the centre in St. Monica’s, where I shall be, are about 90 children and a Normal Class. The training of teachers is, perhaps, the most important part of the work, and we want to develop it, having a hostel where the Normal Students can live with their own staff of Indian teachers, and that, we hope, will be the beginning of great things.
I can’t tell how intensely interesting it is to be a Visionary, I wish some of you would come and try for yourselves!
Yours affectionately,


Literary Club Contributions – Summer Term 1917


It came to pass that in the ageless Halls of Time, the Hours and the Minutes prepared a banquet in honour of the Birthday of Night, the eldest daughter of Time. And when the hour came that Twilight broods lightly over the world and releases Night and her sister Day from their duties, the dusky-haired daughter of Time emerged from her “misty eastern cave,” clad in her sombre robes, holding her moon lamp in her hand, and veiling it with her rippling hair. She sped with winged feet over the whispering ocean, until at last she reached the flaming portals of the Hall of Eternity. There her father met her, and embracing her and her daughter Sleep, led them through the echoing halls up to the banqueting table. There the assembled guests rose and welcomed her; and so, while Twilight still hung over the world, the assembled guests held high revel in the Halls of Time. And Death, with his grim and hollow laugh, and his mirthless eyes, and when he spoke, the faintest shadow could be seen upon the brow of Night.
The brilliant banquet drew to a close, and the lights burned brightly as darkness came on. Then the door opened, and sober Twilight came in, tired after her vigil and long journey, and with her entrance Night rose to go. Once more she took her moon lamp in her hand, and, hiding its lustre with her black hair, she flitted silently through the blazing doorway out into the great airy spaces which lie between the Halls of Eternity.

Night flew silently over a Battlefield in France, and unveiled her lamp. By its rays she gazed down upon the silent trenches, on the tangled wire gleaming brightly in the moonlight, and on the motionless Sentries; farther back she looked at the roads, gleaming white, and at the mined houses peeping from the trees.
Then her eyes travelling back to the ground in front of the trenches, she saw Death stalking grimly in search of victims.
With a little shiver Night turned away, and hiding the moon under her robes she moved silently over the face of Europe until the coming of Dawn-gold, pink and white-came to relieve her of her vigil. Weary Night extinguished her lamp and slowly, slowly moved off the face of the world to her misty cave, there to rest in preparation for her next vigil.



Some talk of the night in the Summer-time,
When the dancing’s gay on the lawn,
And soft move the feet to the music’s chime
Till the first pale light of the dawn
But give me a- boat and the river’s balm
When the night-sound, all seem to sigh
A low, quiet song and a moonlight calm,
With the twinkling stars in the sky.
Some talk of the night in the Winter-time,
When the dancing’s gay in the hall,
And soft move the feet to the chime
Tilt the very end of the Ball.
But give me a hook and a good arm-chair,
And my dear dumb friends close beside,
And safety and warmth in the firelight flare
And the frosty moonlight outside.


Suggested Examination for Senior Cambridge Candidates in War Time – Summer Term 1917

I. A solid maize meal scone, of volume 10 cubic centimeters, reclining at an angle of 90° on a plate of uniform thickness of 1 centimeter; find to the nearest minute:

(a) The time required to devour it.
(b) The time required to digest it.

II. A day’s allowance of bread, squared, is equal to the sum of the square of a week’s allowance of rice and one sausage.

III. The area of the maize pastry covering a circular vegetable pie is greater than that of the currants in an average oatmeal cake.

IV. If loaves of bread, lying on the same plate, have areas 16.20 square metres and 20.70 square metres respectively, find, to the nearest tenth of a minute, how long each loaf would last one person, on the present system of rationing.

V. Given a square oatmeal biscuit, reduce it to a triangular maize scone of equal area, and prove your construction is correct.

VI. A right circular scone was measured in such a way that the diameter of the base is known to contain between 16.2 grains and 16.3 grains, and the height between 27.5 and 27.6 inches; taking the area of one grain as 31416 Millimeters, find the volume of the scone taking

(a) The lesser dimensions
(b) The greater dimensions.

Give your answer in cubic grains, correct to seven places, and show how many grains are uneatable.


Hymn of the Vestal Virgins – Summer Term 1917

O Vesta. Goddess most adored!
Now grant thy grace on us outpoured
May give us power and strength to ward
From Rome those evils which reward
Neglect of thy most precious fire.
Thou child of Saturn and of Rhea,
Protect us from the Fates’ dread ire!
For when at length AEneas, dear
To Venus, safely landed here,
At once to thee he raised this pile.
So therefore, Goddess, show thy smile
Upon a town which all this while
Has honoured thee through every trial.
Reveal thy smile, reveal thy smile,
And succour us in every trial.



Junior Literary Club Contributions – Summer Term 1917


Come, come, little snowdrops, the spring is at hand,
Wake up and be glad, all you in flower land.
No cold rough winds are blowing to-day
Only soft breezes do ripple and play.
Jack Frost has gone, and with him the cold,
And all the green buds have begun to unfold.
The sky is so blue, the birds are now singing,
The world is at play, sweet bells are ringing.

P.SAVAGE (age 13), Lower IV.


The little redcapped fellow
Dancing on the green,
Amid the cowslips yellow,
Is often to be seen.
“Whither do you wander,
Little goblin, dear?
Are you going yonder,
Or to meadows near?”
“Yonder I am going,
Over hill and dale.
Where the tree, are blowing
In a mighty gale.”

M. EYRE (age 12).

Junior Literary Club Plays – Summer Term 1917

On May 31st you would hardly have recognised the Wilderness garden, which Miss Bagnall so kindly lent for the I., IL, IIL and Lower IV. Forms to act their plays in.
At 4 o’clock, if you had come into the kitchen at Rose Villa, you would have seen it strewn with various acting clothes, which some of the Lower IV. actors were trying to put on. We bad to cover ourselves over with long coats to hide our dresses.
At 4.30, the visitors arrived, and amongst them were Miss Douglas, Miss Lucy, Miss Bagnall and Miss Prosser.
There was a great deal of bustle and excitement, and the Chairman of the Literary Club announced that the 1st Form would now act their play. It was called ‘”The Dream Fairy,” written by Betty Clarke and Betty Salisbury. Muriel Arnold took the part of an old grandmother, and acted it very well. As there was no curtain, the Chairman hid, “Would you kindly shut your eyes while the first scene of the 2nd Form is being prepared?” It was a great temptation to open our eyes as we now and then caught glimpses of fairies, who were dressed in beautiful fairy-like frocks.
It was a most charming little play, called ” The Twins in Fairyland,” and was written by Betty Aldworth. The fairies did a sweet little dance, at the end of which the ‘Twins’ presented Miss Douglas with two lovely bunches of peonies. Mademoiselle Cornellie and Miss Oliver very kindly took a, great deal of trouble in arranging it, and making some of the dresses.
Then came the 3rd Form play, which was thrilling, and was called “The Desert Island.” Rachel Aldworth was the authoress, and was helped by other members of the Form. The savages acted their parts extremely well, and quite frightened us by piercing shrieks, as they rushed upon the poor shipwrecked crew, who were stranded on ” The Desert Island.” After the 3rd Form had finished acting their exciting play, the Lower IV. came upon the scene. Their play was called ” The Experiences of a Red Cross Nurse,” which was written by Peggy Savage and Marjorie Sargeaunt. All the plays were a great success, and we hope that all who were present enjoyed them.


Miss Gray’s Speech – Summer Term 1917

On Whit-Monday, May 28th, Miss Gray, the High Mistress of St. Paul’s School, talked to the Staff and elder girls about Teaching as National Service. She said it had been hard for many teachers not to be rebels to their own work, when there seemed to be such pressing need of other forms of service more directly helpful to our gallant men; but in reality, nothing could be more important for the nation than the training of the generation who would have to carry on what our men are fighting for.
Miss Gray said to the girls that there were now so very many more openings for them than there used to be, but she wished they would consider the importance of the work of teaching, and try, for a few years at any rate, whether they were fitted for it. She herself had taught Latin grammar for more than thirty years without being tired of it, for though the grammar remained the same the children were always different, and one helped them to learn so very much besides the actual subject.

Old Godolphinites’ Christmas Treat – Summer 1917

Sometime before Christmas, I wrote to Miss Montgomery, the Secretary of the I.C.A. at the Settlement, about our usual Christmas Treat for the children, and it was suggested that, owing to the unusual circumstances, it would be wiser for us not to have the Treat this year, but to devote all the money we could collect to convalescence and surgical instruments for the children.
The following Circular was therefore sent to Old Girls in December, with the splendid result that we have now been able to send in the sum of £12 5s. 4d. I have had a very grateful letter from Miss Montgomery, in which she says: “Thank you very much indeed for the splendid donation of £12 5s. 4d. I am delighted with it, and I hope the Old Girls will know how very grateful we are for the help given.”


I have had a letter from the Invalid Children’s Association at the Settlement suggesting that, for this year only, owing to the unusual circumstances, it might be better for us not to have our Children’s Treat at Christmas, and asking if the Old Girls would let them have the money instead for convalescence and surgical instruments for the cripple and invalid children.
The chief reason is that they need the money very badly. They are losing a grant of £70 from the local C.O.S., who say they cannot now raise the money. “It is such a splendid work, and we do give the children such a chance to regain their health-in fact many of our old boys are serving in the Army-so we don’t want to give it up if we can help it.” The other reason for not having it this year is the great difficulty of getting helpers. So many of the Old Girls are at work and find it difficult to promise help for a certain day, and the workers at the Settlement are too busy to undertake anything extra.
Most grateful thanks are due to those Old Girls who every year make it possible to have the Treat, but one Secretary tells me that last year she sent out 90 notices and only had 25 answers. If every Old Girl who gets this notice, and who does not generally give, would send Gd. to her Secretary, we should get a splendid result.
It is for this year only that we are asked to suspend the Treat.

(C. M. BOYLE).

U.G.S.M Settlement – Summer Term 1917

You are so splendid lots and lots of you-in the work you are doing now, that the Magazine with its news of you carries a thrill, of which perhaps even the Commem, thrill was only a premonition, to those of us who are stay-at-homes (we humbly hope not slackers).
Salaam to every one of you, and more strength to your elbows!
I think that we understand how very difficult it must be in the midst of such hard and pressing; work to give much thought to anything not immediately connected with the war. But will you please try to spare a minute to listen to our tale of woe?
I’ve had a bad fright. You will remember that at Commem, 1912 we agreed to guarantee £45 annually to our Settlement, and hoped that we might very soon increase the amount? Well, at the close of last year I only had £45 19s. 1d. to send in, so we had a very narrow escape, and I wondered how on earth I was to get at you all in time if we ever fell below our guarantee-instead of increasing it, as we hoped.
And then came a second shock. I have been trying to carry on as treasurer until we could meet to elect a new one, but last autumn I had so much other secretarial work to do that I wrote to various members of the finance committee to see if one would take my place. But all were too much engaged in war work, so I am ready to do my best again for a time.
But a phrase in one of the letters sent a “grue” down my spine: “I feel that the Mission has become something very remote, if I am to be quite honest over it.” Now I don’t believe that was anything more than a passing mood, because if our Mission, or anything Godolphin, were indeed “remote” I really don’t know what the “leal” in our motto means.
But it did make me feel that this time is a real test-a chance to show that we have not only loyal hearts, but loyal heads which will take the trouble to be prompt and business-like, and so tighten up the bearings of our O.G.A. organisation, which seem to be running a bit loose. Subscribers, and even in one or two cases group secretaries, vanish into air, and repeated letters bring no answer.
So please everyone will you send your subscription to your group secretary at once, if you have not already done so. And please make it as large as possible, for our Settlement has all the additional claims of war work (they badly need more workers for whole or part time)­ and increased expenses, and needs our backing as never before.
Please, group secretaries, will you send your group subscriptions to me (not direct to the Mission Treasurer), as soon as possible, and at the latest before the end of October, so that we may make quite sure of our guaranteed sum before the end of the year. Last year two groups sent direct, instead of to me, and another did not arrive until the middle of January, so our total was not quite so bad as I feared, though more than 31, less than last year, and 81, below 1914. But neither the Mission Treasurer nor I can trace any subscription from one group, and I am uncertain about the names or addresses of some secretaries. Will the secretaries of Groups 4, 12, 13, 14 kindly communicate with me.
And if anyone is obliged to resign, please let me know, and tell me the name of your successor.
And lastly, forgive this lengthy wail from your humble treasurer.


When The Moon Rose Over The Sea – Summer Term 1917

The golden path had faded away
With the dying light of declining day
And the rocking ripples ceased their play
When the Moon rose over the sea.
And an evening hush filled all the air,
Yet music and song were everywhere.
And the seaweed shone like a sea-nymph’, hair
When tile Moon rose over tile sea.
And the silver gulls came floating by
And a star shone out in the purple sky
And Beauty and Peace a’er the earth did lie
When the Moon rose over the sea.

J. BUCKLE, Lower VB.