Christinas and Eve

Evening Post, Volume CXXVI, Issue 150, 22 December 1938, Page 22 (Supplement)

Christinas and Eve

By S.J.Harrox

s s "jTT hardly seems decent to give him braces," **J|_ I said.

"Well," said Alice, "they do them up so nicely now, in that shiny paper, with, holly berries, and robins."

"Yes," I said, "that makes a difference, but do I know him well enough? Even with robins, I mean? After all, braces are braces." "Well, why not try sock-suspenders?" "Suspenders don't seem right, either, somehow. I shouldn't like it if he gave me any. So intimate, like corsets. Though I suppose sock suspenders " "They do them up, too, in that paper," Alice pointed out. , ;_ But I didn't feel I could give Robert suspenders; either. It's so difficult at Christmas. Alice was as helpful as could be, but presents for a husband are very different from presents for Robert He is only—well, an acquaintance, as yet. Willy is much more domestic, too. Slippers, as Alice said, are more in his line. I thought of thatj for Robert, when Alice and I went into the shoe shop. But I don't know the size of his feet, and though we tried to remember how be and Willy,looked side by side on the squares of,the hearthrug, it was no good. I know Willy's feet "covered,all the pink bit, but Robert was in the black half, and I'd no idea at aIL I don't-feel I could ask him; it's so pointed, drawing attention las it were. "No, Alice,, that's no good. I don't think Robert would appreciate suspenders. Besides, he's probably got some." ' , . , "Socks?" queried Alice. " * / V "Size of his feet?" said I. -; !, ■ "OK," said Alice. "It is.hard. Of course I'm giving Willy a tie. I knpvfr he; likes blue; I'll get him a x nice bright one.' Couldn't you give Robert : ?" < . . /' "I don't .think so, Alice. I wouldn'£ dare. You see, men are fussy about ties'. I gave one to Uncle Marmaduke last Christmas, and he,gave it to the charity bazaar. I saw it. The Indian fruiterer bougfit it." "It's very difficult,'* sighed Alice. nnHE room about us wore that festive air that haunts us for the week before Christmas, and somehow vanishes on the day. Alice was undoing dozens of small paper parcels, and the table was a sea of string and: tinsel snow, and robins on labels; a cascade off highly coloured seals spilled