Just Junk!

Dominion, Volume 30, Issue 153, 25 March 1937, Page 6

Just Junk!

But The Drawer Will Never Be I idled

I \ every house there is one drawer * that‘is never tidy. It smells faintJv musty and is full of pieces ot yel-, lowing tape, of old buttons and theatre programmes. There is string ami a fad<‘d velveteen pincushion stuck with three rusty pins and a rusty bodkin. Why on earth did you keep that piece of lace and that odd glove.' •lust junk. And you've been meaning to throw it out lor years. Right at the bottom of the drawer votl come upon your diary, soft little red-leather book, shabby now with a-e and usage. On the cover are your initials in gold. But they are worn. Musing, you sit. there, idly turning the pages. Your life’s inside these p ilgvs —or most of it. There ary recorded your ambitions and tears, dreams and hopes, clouds that gathered and days when the sun shone. Romance has touched its pages and sorrow, too. One page is smudged with tears. Another is blank because you were too happy to write. One name appears more often Ilian the rest—John. Memories flock round Y 0U —a dance, .John, a moonlight picnic, John again, always John. Happy John. And now John no more. After your marriage you locked away your little book ami forgot it. When tlie children came there was no time for day-dreaming—and then the weariness of carrying on alone, when John died. It silvered your hair, but if did not break your spirit. And Peter’s a man now and a tine one. Some girl is writing ‘Teter” where you once wrote “John.” You will never add another line to that battered little book, but you treasure it as memory’s storehouse. Peter, stealing up behind you, kisses your cheek and says, "Well, mother, what have you got there?” But you push it. away quickly under a pile ot odds and ends and answer, "Nothing, dear. Just tidying up an old drawer." But it will never be tidied.