Helping Lame Dogs.

Joan has just rushed in to talk to me. She and Angela came to tea last week and were full of talk about the opening of the Badminton season. Angela had nominated a new member who worked in the same office and seemed rather lonely. Angela is always doing kind-hearted things on the spur of the moment, and afterwards, sometimes, regretting them. This time, according to Joan, she had introduced quite the wrong kind of girl into their club, a jolly club, where everyone knows everyone else, and jokes and banter are the order of the evening. The new girl, it seems, comes from the country, has only been in town two months, has never mixed with people much, is hard to talk to, is, in fact, no “mixer.”

“She just sits there,” said Joan, “and expects us to make a fuss of her. We have tried to drag her into things, but she never sees the point of our jokes, and when we arrange Badminton sets for her, she never seems to enjoy them, and hardly takes the trouble even to swipe at the shuttles. Her partner has to do all the work, and the good players won't be bothered with her because she's not even keen. And then to-day, coming home from work, I met her and we walked a little way together. She actually talked, but anyone so abrupt and brusque I never did meet. Said she felt left out of things at the club, and didn't think she got as many games as other people. Said we didn't talk to her, and here, for three weeks, we've been trying to pull Angela's ugly duckling into things, and sending the cheeriest lads to talk to her, but she's such heavy weather they give up. There's gratitude for you! Well!”—and Angela slumped dramatically into my best easy chair.

Of course, I don't know the girl, but I've been talking to Joan, and page 59 Joan admits there may be something in my viewpoint. The very fact that this girl wanted to join Badminton shows that she is craving for companionship, that she wants to do things and be friendly. Probably she has never had a chance to develop social qualities, and now that she is suddenly among young things who've lived a social life from their cradles, she's hopelesly out of her element. But she'll learn. If only Angela does not tire of well-doing, and the rest of the crowd show a little consideration, a lonely, miserable, self-conscious little girl will enter into her heritage of youthful gaiety.