In a Flat.Tit, a Hat.

Evening Post, Volume LXVI, Issue 16, 18 July 1903, Page 10

In a Flat.Tit, a Hat.

A flat was lent us for a month. A furnished flat, with Liberty decorations in tones of green. Around the sittingroom windows ran a deep frieze of Kate Greenaway figures in green and white. The mantelpiece had a decorative painting of queer Dutch children, in brilliant colours, on a dark-green background. The little green divan had fat, unfrilled cushions of green cotton with stamped nursery rhyme pictures. A dark green cat and a ligut •green frog, in china, surveyed with haughty disgust a large blue china dog beside them on the mantelpiece. The carpet was green, with a dull blue border, and the green occasional table had a green and winte cloth, and when afternoon tea was served, it appeared in green and white cups. Tha bedrooms were creations in yellow and white, the kitchen a study in white, with brown earthenware utensils. But the size of the whole affair was absurd. The word "room" was quite inapplicable. "Room" suggests size and space, in a lashionable flat) one feels as if in a pigeon-loft. Certainly tne apartments, in our flat were a study in how tiny a living space could be. And from end to end 01 the building, from end to end of the street, in fact, were people living just like ours, and, what is more, finding space for the entertainment of their friends. The girls next us, in rose pink rooms (also .Liberty design) constantly had guests ; in tact, some of their guests stayed, week-ends with them. One, a tall American, drawled to us that, "It is alj too sweet for anything, but I feel distorted and bent. 1 never get right on end, and I never get a chance to ya.\vn or stretch once I get inside the door ; if I did I'd smash something. To-night 1 mean to sleep with my head on the drawingroom floor and leave my feet out in the kitchen. I'll get the kinks out that way, I guess." She gazed with some admiration at our decorations. "You're lucky to be done up like a cabbage-gar-den. Don't matter wftat your colour is in here. Mow we live in a perpetual fiery sunset, and it's not too becoming to my hair, let alone my general colour scheme. If you've got such a thing as a tin-opener we'd be glad if you'd, lend it ; that's what I came in for. Sally is battling with a tin of tomatoes with a penknile and a boot-heel.'' Attendance was given by a trim maid, whose services we shared with our nextdoor neighbours. We did our own shopping. That was interesting from an Australian point of view, comparing prices and the manner of shopkeepmg. To start with the English shop, grocer, butcher, fishmonger, or dairyman, sets himself to make his wares look as attractive as possible, and frequently succeeds in a remarkable manner. The butcher we visited traded in a perfect bower of beauty, among white marble walls, white shining tiles, and with; adornments of huge palms and ferns. Meat was not largely in evidence, merely samples of finest cuts, and these so floured and decked out that one forgot they were merely parts of a carcase. Certainly, it is usual to have one whole sheep hanging somewhere, his black feet proclaiming him Welsh mutton. "Do you sell much Australian, muttym?" I enquired. v "Oh, no,' Miss !" the butcher's tone was pained; "we sell the very best English and Welsh only." "That is a pity. I wanted Australian mutton," I returned. "Of courss I can geb it for you. Many houses keep it in large quantities." We said we would get him to procure us some next time, but on this occasion, would be content with a small sirloin We viewed several with pomp and ceremony, and with as much discussion as if we were buying, a new hat. We chose one at length weighing about 41b, and paid 3s 5d for it. . While we were being served, a cad, shabby girl entered, and < bought oqq chop. It cost her sd, but it was a fine chop. The butcher, with the usual English shop courtesy, offered to send it for her, but she took it with her. An old lady came in and haggled over some bones for soup. She gave 8d for what seemed a very poor small lot, but she evidently knew prices, and was satisfied with her bargain. made enquiries as to the prices of st«aks, of cutlets, of kidneys, but on hearing them decided to stick to the English regulation breakfast, which is. bacon, one morning, kipper or red heis ring the pther. Thence we went on to the fishmonger's, passing on our way a queer old huildmg with the words "Ancient Lights" repeated below each of its windows. This, my companion, who is. English, explained a.9 meaning that the old right to light by a certajtn number of windows had been obtained and paid, for, and that no one had a right to bjock out that light. If the butcher is clever in the arrangement of hip wares,' certainly the fishmonger is, a finished artist. Of course his materials are somewhat happier, and he creates poems and pictures with his stock-in-trade. He spends much money in flowers and palms, and if he is in a big way of business possibly has a fine fountain, with many goldfish in it, playing in the middle of the shop. Everything is sparklingly, immaculately clean. White slabs, plate-glass, all shining resplendently. Then he makes his effects, not with vast, gross piles of fish, bufc with a few elegant specimens of each kind A fine salmon all alone on a slab, with a palm shading him ; a collection of scarlet lobsters, in a bed of green ; some partridges, a few «Jleaming soles, a hare, all of them, the very best, and arranged to the best advantage, and merely samples of what the shop can produce. From the fishmonger's to the greengrocer's. " How much are the peas ?'' seeing peas in great quantities. " Ninepence a pound. '* So we decided against p*eas, and bought greens at twopence a pound, potatoes at twopence a pound, and enquired about some homely-looking turnips. "A penny each." So turnips were passed, but we learnt that tinned tomatoes and the regulation "greens" were among the cheapest and most satisfactory vegetables • for daily use. Wo spent fourpenc^, and the -vegetable lady said the order should be delivered at once. Then we wanted stamps, and looked round for some place to buy them at. I, as an Australian, suggested a stationer's opposite, but my" companion, being English, knew better. " Oh, no, you never get them at a stationer's ; I daresay we'll get them at the butcher's as we go back. At any rate we'll get them at the grocer's." She was quite right. The butcher sold stamps, so did the grocer, we found afterwards. "Flatting" is Certainly- carried to a perfection in England. Everything is made as convenient, as comfortable, as compact iis possible for the 'flatter, 1 ' and though frequently the size of rooms leaves something to be desired, there is a finish and a comfort in the tiny rooine often wanting in larger houses. We soon learnt how to keep things absolutely neat, how to avoid knocking against our furniture, though the American girl never got quite used to it, and complained of being one big bruiEe from head to heel. *— Lino, in the Melbourne Argus.

"Do you Hunk she redlly loves him.?" 'Well, she's begun to calj him 'Foolish boy I'"