TALE OF THREE TOWELS.

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 267, 10 November 1934, Page 3 (Supplement)

TALE OF THREE TOWELS.

The sun shone out of a cloudless blue sky, and the beach was very crowded, almost resembling an ants' nest. Gaily coloured towels lay close together, while their owners were surfing, paddling, or playing near the water's .edge. Each towel felt ever so important, minding a beach wrap, shorte, or a pair of sandals, but one orange and green towel had nothing to mind at all, so ho felt very lonesome, and sighed, "Oh, dear! I wish someone would talk to me!" "Well, I can't, you know!" said a large twine-coloured towel, with the name of a hotel on hie corner. "Because wo haven't been introduced, and I'd rather like you to know I come from a most important hotel!" "Don't brag!" said another towel; "I also come from one of the beat hotels. We face the ocean front, eo can see these long stretches of sand, and hear the breakers kissing the beach when all is quiet!" "And don't you mind talking without an introduction?" said the orange and green towel meekly. "Oh, dear, no! Our gueets talk to orie another, so I'm sure humans know best, and I follow their example!" ' The first hotel towel, thinking he was being overlooked, said in his most serious voice: "I've heard that people at your hotel complain that their woollies are always damp with the strong salt air, whereas at mine they are dry and soft and, you know, we must look after woollens to help the man in the country who keeps the sheep!" Seeing that his listeners were impressed by this speech, he went on grandly: "After my daily bath I hang out on the verandah with a whole row of my pals, who are good sports, except the new towels, who are rather uppish at being put into the very best rooms. But the sights we see from our perch are most entertaining—so I pity you poor towels who live in private homes and see no fun like this.

"Then, too, wo're washed by a machine. The hard soap wears us thin, but it gets us clean'extra quick, and if we inert with a tear we arc taken to a hospital, where a woman doctor sits all dny long mending with a thing they call a sewing machine. This is very painful and noisy, but we are much stronger after it!" . The little- towel was silent a moment, then murmured: "My bath ia very different to yours. A pretty little girl with careful hands takes me all on my own, puts me in warm water with pure white foam or soft soap-suds. I'm dried on the back lawn, where mignonette and other sweet flowers bloom, and as I swing in the sunlight I'm kept amused by the pet dog, who does hie best to catch me. But I'm quite safe, because my mistre&s puts mo well out of his reach!" "Then your life- sounds much better than mine!" said the ocean-beach towel; and even the boaeter mumbled grudgingly, "Maybe, after all, home life is best!" Just then, a lovely golden-haired girl caught up the orange and green towel and ran along the sand with it, while the two hotel towels were claimed by two elderly cross-looking men, which made them wish all the more that they might change lives and owners with the little home towel.