HOUSEHOLD GODS

Evening Star, Issue 23355, 26 August 1939, Page 3

HOUSEHOLD GODS

[Written by Pandora, for .the ‘ Evening Star.’]

Have you ever thought your home has a personality? Just as each individual lias a hobby so each house reflects the character of its inmates, and above it all is diffused the atmosphere of the home. Some districts have a personality all their own. Some are so repressed and dingy-looking it makes one sad to look at them. If you walk abroad with mo you will see how much thought and ingenuity has been used to overcome builders’ mistakes, dullness, and mediocrity and the restrictions of poverty. Despite bills and the Budget, the cost of potatoes and permanent waves, we usually manage to squeeze out something to spend on a hobby. Wo buy paint for the gate, garden seeds, dog licenses, or art curtains. Flowers and gardens do much to beautify a home. They hide dull corners and make them interesting. Just now there is only close-cropped grass and brown mud in the gardens; nevertheless, the spirit of the home still lingers here. Some houses seem aglow with personality from their polished door knobs to the flowering geraniums in their halls.

Here’s Madame Y’s. The house has an appalling chessboard effect with the green-ahdi-brown check shutters and a slanting check wooden fence with_ a green hedge behind. There are five windows on each side, each with a curtain exactly symmetrical. The whole place has as much true expression as the pert parlourmaid in a musical comedy. How much more character has this house, plain and comfortable with its wide bow windows. Two children with paper caps are peeping out of the window. That merry lad exchanging sigr nals with me is Robert the Gangster signalling “ All clear ” to his confederate.

Next door Mr X, in overcoat and goloshes, with cotton-wool in his ears, is conscientiously examining his border plants while listening to a classical orchestra on the wdreless. His garden is neat but uninspired. It is clear he prefers music to gardening. Valiant Mr XI I admire your spirit. May you be rewarded with hot tea and currant cakes, and may flowers greet you in the spring time I In this house a Pekingese, brown and fluffy, is gazing out of the drawing room window. There is plenty of comfort in this house and bones and dog biscuits to satisfy the most fastidious. The next place relies on ornament for its effect; two china dogs and a china squirrel, all in green, are displayed in a group on the window sill. They look rather charming with their air of dainty make-believe. No doubt it is much easier to have china pets rather than to keep a dog with muddy paws and a craving for walks and digging up the garden. The young bride who lives here is very feminine with her frilly curtains aiid slightly henpecked husband trained to wipe his feet on the door mat. What a contrast to this house I Here are china ornaments, nymphs in long swirling skirts rather dominated by a bodyguard of china bulldogs. 1 don’t think the nymphs like the bulldogs, but they ignore them Do you think the bulldogs were supplied by masculine admirers of mine host or are they designed to frighten tramps and prospective burglars? • ... Here’s the useful member of the family. He has out-size cabbages and white broody hens. May the crowing cock rouse you from your slumbers and may fresh brown eggs grace your breakfast table, 0 industrious citizen. Here’s a chubby china dog, white and brown, with a wistful face, looking out one window. In the other room a sleek black cat is eseonced on the wiu-dow-sill. Twin guardians of the hearth. Do you prefer the real or the china pet? The cat is the privileged pet, for he can move at will. He stalks round his rival, sniffing him cautiously, classifies him as “ not dangerous,” and dismisses him from his mind. Here’s my pet abomination-—a sallow, brown nouse, with red facings and a green roof. No hobbies visible, save for a.few spiky cactus plants peeping out one window. “ Keep out and beware of the dog,” it seems to say in stiff, unfriendly terms. Here’s a gay little home with a tableau arranged on its window-sill—two china figures—a girl with a basket of flowers and a youth holding her hand with the romantic, courtly air of' a French pastorale. In the background is a stuffed kiwi, a real furry creature, and a large green palm tree. It looks like romanticists playing on a desert island. . , , Here’s a glassed-m verandah with a fernery containing hanging baskets of flowers. What a charming nook! It is like a sylvan glade ip a desert_ of dullness, so cool, so fresh, bo charming in its quiet loveliness. What a pleasure it is, as 1 walk further on, to see this little aviary, with its nests, its ladders, and its cages for the love birds. How beautiful they are with their blue and green feathers, their fluttering wings, and the joyous carol of their songs. May never bickering or cankering sorrow destroy the light-hearted spirit of your hoinel Here on the wmdow-sill is a Grecian figure with four white doves clustering at her feet. 0 blithe goddess, so carefree and benign, bia kindness and beauty dwell within this roof I _ This home is so attractive with the blue hyacinth flowering at one window. In another room there is red St. John s wort on the table, and a beautifullycurved red vase at the window. How beautiful your room looks in the glint of the firelight. Here’s a house with green curtains with elaborate lace medallions. Your curtains are too elegant, for they dominate your little house and 1 repress your true character. It is almost a relief to see the homely, intimate touches belonging to other houses. Here’s a blue dog, small and timid, of the lapdog variety; here’s a girl with yellow hair and a white bulldog : here’s a copper horse and a pink rabbit—how incongruous they seem together! Yet there is a friendly touch about it which disarms criticism. Who wouldn’t smile at this dainty green frog, dr laugh at this green rabbit frollicking on the window-sill? Here is a yellow owl staring solemnly out of the window. 0 Madame Y, do yon pray for wisdom or do you put it as your patron saint to remind you of what you lack? Does the New Zealander show his affection for animals by having china replicas on his window-ledges? Or are they all presents from maiden aunts or white elephants from charity bazaars? A truce to this mummery, we part good friends. Gay guardians of hearth and home, with your flowers, birds, your pets, vour children, and your laughter! May the gladness of your greeting soothe the vexed spirit of returning travellers; send them forth, strong and unfaltering, to withstand the chill winds of To-morrow’s challenge!