WHEN FATHER TARRED THE PATH.
(By Phyllis Kea, 13, Wilton Street, Grey
Lynn, age 13.)
"It's about time these paths were tarred, isn't it mother," said father. "Well, why don't you set about to do it?" said mother, stooping to pick a few flowers from the garden of proportions of one yard by two.
"Well there's the cost to be considered, you know," said father, in his usual mean tones. "Cost! You might talk about cost!'] and with that mum stalked inside ana ran" up a firm of shingle merchants. She" ordered one barrel of tar-and two. yards of sand. In due time the ordered goods arriVed. With all the required implements (and a few unnecessary things as well) father strode majestically around the side of the house to where the sand and tar had been deposited. "My goodness," he rasped, as he saw them, "I shall never use half of this." With these words he picked up the barrow, on which the things were loaded, and wheeled it row d to the back of the house. Then father his task. He carefully put on a very thin laver of tar and then on top of "this he 'sprinkled an equally thin layer of sand. He then stood up and regarded his handiwork with grim satisfaction. He then started a little further along the path, and suddenly he went to lift up his foot when he found it was stuck to tLe ground. When he tried to lift his other foot he found that it, too, was stuck fast. He stifled an exclamation and called to his wife to come to his aid. She hurried out to see what was ths matter, and when she saw father standing there, stuck, she burst out laughing. Dad looked annoyed, and, not wishing to. upset him, mother brought him another pair of boots, and with a sigh he stepped into them. Dad then recommenced his task, which by this time had become rather a ted : ous one. He was only half way through the job when mother came out all dressed in her finest array.
"Just going to town," she briefly, and then she left dad hard_it paths. Father \H*T£iifortunatc for he slipped—yes, slipped— and right into the tar. He quickly picked himself up and very hurriedly went inside. He rang up on the 'phone and in ten minutes a man was tarring the paths, and that man was not father.
When mum returned she congratulated him on the excellent work he had done. Dad said nothing—perhaps it was wiser that he did not.
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Bibliographic details
Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 19, 23 January 1929, Page 19
Word Count
431WHEN FATHER TARRED THE PATH. Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 19, 23 January 1929, Page 19
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