ELDERLY EUCHREITES.

Auckland Star, Volume LVI, Issue 242, 13 October 1925, Page 10

ELDERLY EUCHREITES.

FASCINATING "PROGRESSIVE."

MRS. BATTLE'S SISTERS.

THE CARDS OUST THE KNITTINGNEEDLES.

"A dear fire, a clean hearth, and the rigour of the game." That was the acme of bliss for that inveterate whist player, Mrs. Battle, type immortal of the genus. Why is it that old ladies take such a keen delight in the little bits of paste-board that were invented for the diversion of a mad King of France? A few old stagers of the opposite sex stick to their game right to the end, but as a rule the genuine card-players among old men are few and far between. The old gentleman would much rather spend an evening over his pipe and glass with a boon companion or two, raking over the embers of the past and. looking for glowing memories. Round about Auckland these latter winters there has been a rather remarkable recrudescence of card-parties, mostly of the "progressive" type, where there are three or four prizes for the men and a similar number for the women—with of course the essential "booby," the bestowal of which never fails to raise the ready laugh.

One of the most noticeable things about these mild card dissipations is the singular attraction they have for elderly, ladies. It is an age of amusement, and judging from the number of people that seek their pleasure abroad the hearths must be very deserted nowadays. With so many jazz parties, even in our warm climate, and so many incentives to gad about, it is perhaps small wonder that grannie refuses to nurse the fire and potter round the home. Years ago we used to visualise an old lady in a cap knitting interminable pairs of socks when we thought of grannie, but the short skirt and bobbed hair attitude has got into her elderly bones, and she sees no reason why she should be left out of the fun.

Naturally her activities are circumscribed, but the excitement of the progressive euchre or bridge tournament, is right into her hands, and there she is in her glory. Keen as a girl at her first ball grannie arrives with her reticule (no old-fashioned one either), her glasses and her little pencil with which she keeps the score as finickingly as the most rabid auditor. It is a pleasure to see the lynx look with which she watches the deal. The fate of empires might be hanging on the result of that momentous preliminary episode.

When the cards are turned up and the four players begin to skirmish no face fji so jsefc as grannie's, and anything in the. nature of. -youthful levity is frowned down. "The rigour of the game," is the thing that appeals to her; in fact she turns the game into something which closely resembles a seripus business. She never gives away the smallest "advantage. She is keen on her rights, perhaps too keen if the truth must be told, and in the event of a dispute arising as to whether ; or not sUch and such a thing is fair, she is perhaps a little too inclined to give herself the benefit of the doubt. Not that she is distinctly unfair, but to the old saying about all being fair in love and war, .many of the Mrs. Battles make if. a triad and add cards.

In euchre there" is a situation known as "sitting,", which' has nothing to do with chairs, but means that supposing hearts are turned up and you with- a. good hand do not order the dealer up, but afterwards have the temerity to bring off a "euchre" you are left in no doubt whatever as to your opponents' opinions as to your lack of sportsmanship. "Sitting , ; is one of the deadly; sins at the card table.

Euchre is such an open game tha.t there is not much chance for cheating, but when you are a point or two ahead and you know that the warning bell (signal to cease play) is about to sound there is a great temptation to waste time, a tactic not unknown on the cricket field. In this gentle art of procrastination some of the old ladies are wonderfully adept, and can drop a card or two on the floor to gain time, and a fresh deal with a most engaging appearance of innocence.

Will it be believed that more than one of these elderly devotees of "progressive" will never see eighty again. Mrs. Battle herself could not have been older. Who knits the socks nowadays the shopkeepers probably know, but as for grannie she would not know how to handle a quartet of needles if you put them into her hand. She is much better with four cards, and as for stockings, she is mainly concerned about the one that is popularly supposed to play the part of a money box. and into which she gleefully drops the small wins she has from time to time, in the way of "side 'bets," which have nothing to do with the tournament or the management thereof, but are the zest of the game for some of Mrs. Battle's descendants. That old lady, by the T>v had some rather pronounced opinions herself about the insipidity of playing "for love."