AROUND THE TEA TABLE

Auckland Star, Volume LIX, Issue 96, 24 April 1928, Page 13

AROUND THE TEA TABLE

MATTERS OF GENERAL INTEREST.

(By SHIRLEY.)

The tyranny of encores! We have bowed our heads to it at concerts. We go patiently to organisations—l have known one anyway—in which every item is encored as a matter of course. One might just as well, in fact, put down two items to each performer at a time, for that is what it comes to. The tyranny of the encore dance, however, is newer, and one correspondent lets go on the subject. At his club, when a dance, which he doesn't much care for, anyway, is over, the dancers clap, and it has to be gone through again. If your partner claps, then also must you follow suit, otherwise it is tantamount to saying that you did not like dancing with her. Such is the psychology of it. However, once he got even with an indefatigable partner. He seized her little hands gently but firmly, and so prevented the applause. Naturally, however, the atmosphere must be unusually friendly before such sheik-iike measures may be taken. He wishes to know how the encorers would like it if this bad habit spread. Supposing John and Betty so appreciated the manner in which Mr. Curate married them that they insisted on having the ceremony again. Supposing Mr. Curate would be hurt and offended if not asked. Do we ever encore a dinner? Well, once. Is it not recorded of a famous wit, either Sidney Smith or Charles Lamb, who was given an exquisite but rather slight restaurant repast by one of his parsimonious friends. "Well, did you like it?" "Exceedingly; let's have another," which gives an idea. Let concert or dance entertainment be gone through once, and then the whole affair be held over again for those who can stay on. 9 • t •

Are women showing self-sacrifice in marriage? This and kindred questions are being discussed by "The Squire" and others in our correspondence columns. Dorothy Dix heads some remarks, "Do You Help Your Husband 1" But the question is an accusation. It seems, according to her friends, that it is quite wrong to do this. "The only way to help a man is to be a hindrance to him, and the heavier a burden a woman is the more she strengthens him." She is, in fact, a kind of Sandow exercise for him. not a ministering angel at all. As the latter, she puts him all wrong. Says one of Miss Dix's friends wearily; "The women who must have money always have husbands who can make it, while the women who can do without things rarely have them." On the other hand, as far as I can make out, she must be a dumb burden. She must crush him down without adding any unpleasant remarks to the crushing business. When he carries all the parcels, she must sympathise with the hard time he is having, and then absent-mindedly, as it were, give him more parcels to carry. Can we remember all this? Not so easy, we might think. Perhaps, after all, Dora Copperfield was something of a genius, and not almost one of those morons that a gentle scientist lady the other day, according to the cables, wanted to have smothered at birth.

There are all sorts of methods of winning a husband, of course, knowing how to cook, for instance, and being good at darning and sewing, but if you want a really practical and sensible way, take half an ounce of dragon's blood, put it on the fire with an incantation, and the man's name (first of May is the best time), and his heart is yours. I say practical and sensible, because In older

times, when a girl fell in love, she didn't bother titivating at the glass, or buying new powder; she went out in a matter-of-fact way and bought a love potion or a chaim, and if she neglected to do this, the silly, thoughtless girl had no one to blame but herself. In case you are worrying that dragon's blood is not exactly in stock with your chemist, it may be mentioned that in our duller days it is known as resin. In her book on her childhood, Selma Lagerlof mentions what coolk books would call '"an other way," as having been effectual in giving her a grandfather: You eat a flour cake, made by yourself in secret, with plenty of salt, being careful not to quench the thirst before sleep. In your sleep you are offered a glass of water by the dream figure of your future husband. Never mind the shortage of men, but when you see him in real life, don't let him escape.

They are worrying about the beaches round Melbourne way. Evidently summer and sin are still there. *>ome reformers want bonfires made to consume all the vain ornamentations, deplorable jazz bathing costumes, and too alluring wraps. One reformer demands Savanarola. That Florentine reformer certainly raised a bright blaze with the long sleeves, long trailing kirtles and high head-dresses of the flappers in those times, but nowadays! When the girls came along in penitential garb, each with her best frock over her arm, there wouldn't be much of a fire—no need to warn the fire brigade. By the way, it is always rather striking the manner in which the modern man calls upon some man of the past to be alive again, and never a woman. Some demand Savanarola, others Cromwell; even John Milton has been told that he should be living at this hour, while, in humbler mood, when taxation oppresses, Pym and Hampden are called for. No man, however, ever asks for Queen Elizabeth baek again. He says these were spacious days and all that, but she who boxed the masculine ear can remain in Westminster Abbey. Many countries have legends of returning heroes, King Arthur, Barbarossa, Drake, and some few others, but there is no legend of a returning heroine. Evidently the other sex prefers us, from Queen Anne onward, to remain dead!