COMPENSATIONS OF THIRTY.

Sun (Christchurch), Volume I, Issue 171, 25 August 1914, Page 3

COMPENSATIONS OF THIRTY.

IS IT WOMAN'S IDEAL AGE? "Compensations of thirty!" You can hear sweet sixteen gasp. "How on earth could there be anything to compensate for a tragedy like that?" But then there's such a lot for sweet sixteen to find out! Wasn't it_ thirty some' cynical person had in mind when he said no woman was worth talking to before that age —nor worth looking at after ?

Anyway, a woman avlio has just reached that age gives some very interesting views, which should be comfort to her sister-spinsters who may be inclined to the thought that after all they have left things a little late. "I am thirty to-day —and unashamed. My aunt, a most austere and serious person made her appearance at my birthday feast. She brought me a very nice present An her hand, and she said:—

"I want to know when I am to have the pleasure of choiring your wedding gift? You are out ¥i the twenties uoav, you know, dear."

"Yes, I'm getting quite old," I assented meekly. And she bustled off with a dismal clank of jet ornaments, feeling pleasantly certain that she had crushed me.

But not so. Any regret that I may express as to my age is merely conventional. I think thirty is a very good number of years to have arrived at. In fact, I like it so much that lam tempted to stay there —like a little friend of mine in the country who says she is "always twenty-five,"

WHAT EXPERIENCE TEACHES,

When one reaches thirty the days are comparatively halcyon. You are inde-

pendent, you have learnt to cut your coat to your cloth so that your dress allowance "does," and you have the wit and wisdom to steer your love affairs to satisfactory conclusions. I do not suppose any man —not even the one I adore —to be perfect, nor do I suppose that any woman—even my bosom friend —is capable of keeping my secrets or above copying my clothes. Both these vain .imaginations belonged to my youth. To-day lam not more cynical but more tolerant .... So much for my own feelings. But what do other people thiuk about me?

On the whole, I think the woman of thirty is apt to be more popular than the girl of seventeen. That damsel is too bright —if not too good —for the sober paths of friendship. Her friendships are legion—and always coming to sudden conclusions. For she chooses her friends with no discretion and then makes demands from them which an archangel could scarcely fulfil. Thirty years teaches you the lesson that friendship is merely a giant game of give and take. And you bring to the market —or ought to, if you have used your time aright —a stock in trade consisting of prudence, good nature, and generosity. A GOOD MAKEYING AGE.

The woman of thirty can still play games and dance and flirt without looking ridiculous, and at the same time her .experiences have given her poise and balance. I will not say she is sensible, became that is damning a woman with faint praise, but I will use a homely phrase and say she "has her wits about her.'' She can cut out, a blouse or bind up a cut finger, and give advice which is hot absolutely futile.

She has arrived, Miss Thirty-years-old —at a good marrying age. Her brains have had time to mature, her heart has not had time to grow heavy. Her play-days are by no means .over, but she will be something more than a toy to her husband. It is true that every man wants a flirt in his house to tease and cajole him out of those bearish humours to which the male sex are so prone; but he also-wants someone to mend his socks, order his meals, and — last, but certainly not least —call him to order, and tell him, a few trenchant home truths now and then.

The average woman of thirty i-s quite capable of undertaking all these duties. But, if for her own good reasons she is not married, she can look forward to a very good time still. Previous flirtations —her own and others of which she has been an interested spectator—have taught her much. She makes flirtation an art, and knows all the various methods of practising it. At the same time she. realises that plain ordinary friendship between men and women has its charm, and she never falls into that fatal mistake —so common to her younger sister—of imagining that every man she meets is in love with her. Neither has she the uncomfortable habit of frequently falling in love herself. She knows how to make the best of herself. A lurking idea that her youth is fleeting has the desirable effect of keeping her up to the mark. She may be. "too old at forty," but she is still a whole decade off forty, and with the experience already gained, she will know how to make use of that decade to very good advantage.—Exchange.