Getting Rid Of The Aspidistras

Auckland Star, Volume LXIX, Issue 220, 17 September 1938, Page 2 (Supplement)

Getting Rid Of The Aspidistras

WHEN we were married, my parents' gardener and his wife gave us a coal scuttle. The gardener's personal present was two aspidistras, healthy, large, glossy, in well-scrubbed pots. He ordered me—he had been with us since long before I was born to "tak* aff the dust wi' a weet rag, ilka murnin,; an' be sure nae to lat the lassie touch them." The lassie was his niece; our future housemaid. I had always had to look after the houseplants., but never an aspidistra had darkened the doors at home. On some points my parents could be firm, even with Teter the gardener.

At tha end of four years, the two aspidistras had broken all bounds and bond#, and filled five pots, and daily I "tuk aff the dust." The cook and the housemaid thought them beautiful, and were vastly impressed when I gave them one each, for downstairs. Then we moved to another town, and as a matter of course the aspidistras came along. At the end of three years we moved again, this time to London, trailing eight aspidistras with us. Our new house gave

By Lady Adams

the servants a Mtting room; so two in the dining room, two in the kitchen, two in the servants' sitting room, and two in the lobby. They were the pride of downstairs, and the biggest fly in my honey; the gardener's niece was still with us, and so I had still to play daily tricks with my "weet" rag. At last we had eleven pots, and even cook had to admit that there "wuz nae room fur her knittin' " on the table. And then my chance came. Our church was having a "bazaar; 1 was to open it; very tentatively I suggested downstairs that it would be splendid if "we" gave some aspidistras to the bazaar; marked them "home grown; originally brought from Scotland, and put on a good stiff price. Rather to my surprise, I found the four gifts decorating the little platform from where I said my few words; the price-tag and other remarks had been removed; but I was agitated, and thought no more about them excex>t to

realise with relief how spacious the dining room looked when I got home.

Xext day they came back, with a nice note from one of the bazaar committee, saying that at first there had been a notice "put on them, evidently by mistake, instead of on some tame rabbits." They knew I had meant the lovely plants for platTorm decoration onlr.

At last the time came, when we broke up our house, and the question of the aspidistras came up. Our props were retiring from service, and so they got their pick. Still, seven remained. Finallv we sent them to a Home for the Elderly, where they were received with joy. And we came to America, a land free from "weet" rags and aspidistras, I thought.

The gardener at the hotel where I have a suite conies from my part of Scotland—or rather, as he is terribly patriotic, I come from his part. I have a balcony, full of rather enchanting plants and shrubs, and he takes much interest in it. I have been ill lately, and the first time he was allowed to come and see me he arrived, all smiles, carrving in his arms an aspidistra, healthy, large, glossy, in a well-scrubbed pot. And Tie' said; I quote his very words: "Tak' aff the dust wi' a weet" rag ilka murnin"; dsnna Jat the hoosemaid touch them' Whut diz Americans ken aboot aspidistras?"' 1