t sought to teach the beautiful lesson of independence,
to inculcate the fine doctrine of self-help. One chapter explained to a
man how he might make flower-pots out of Australian meat cans; another
how he might turn butter-tubs into music-stools; a third how he might
utilize old bonnet boxes for Venetian blinds: that was the principle of
the whole scheme, you made everything from something not intended for
it, and as ill-suited to the purpose as possible.

Two pages, I distinctly recollect, were devoted to the encouragement of
the manufacture of umbrella stands out of old gaspiping. Anything less
adapted to the receipt of hats and umbrellas than gas-piping I cannot
myself conceive: had there been, I feel sure the author would have
thought of it, and would have recommended it.

Picture-frames you fashioned out of gingerbeer corks. You saved your
ginger-beer corks, you found a picture--and the thing was complete.
How much ginger-beer it would be necessary to drink, preparatory to
the making of each frame; and the effect of it upon the frame-maker's
physical, mental and moral well-being, did not concern The Amateur.
I calculate that for a fair-sized picture sixteen dozen bottles might
suffice. Whether, after sixteen dozen of ginger-beer, a man would take
any interest in framing a picture--whether he would retain any pride in
the picture itself, is doubtful. But this, of course, was not the point.

One young gentleman of my acquaintance--the son of the gardener of my
sister, as friend Ollendorff would have described him--did succeed in
getting through sufficient ginger-beer to frame his grandfather, but the
result was not encouraging. Indeed, the gardener's wife herself was but
ill satisfied.

"What's all them corks round father?" was her first question.

"Can't you see," was the somewhat indignant reply, "that's the frame."

"Oh! but why corks?"

"Well, the book said corks."

Still the old lady remained unimpressed.

"Somehow it don't look like father now," she sighed.

Her eldest born grew irritable: none of us appreciate criticism!

"What does it look like, then?" he growled.

"Well, I dunno. Seems to me to look like nothing but corks."

The old lady's view was correct. Certain schools of art possibly lend
themselves to this method of framing. I myself have seen a funeral
card improved by it; but, generally speaking, the consequence was a
predominance of frame at the expense of the thing framed. The more