OLD BLADES

Hawera Star, Volume XLV, 20 February 1926, Page 9

OLD BLADES

“Here’s a packet of old safety razor blades. Do you want them kept?” This was the question that was fired at me one day when my wife was cleaning out a drawer. I was enjoying a fine book at the time, so, as the line of least resistance, I suggested leaving them where they wore. “They can’t stay here if you aren’t going to use them again. They’ll have to be thrown out.” “Very well, throw them out then,” I replied, and, thinking that settled the matter, I resumed my reading. I was not to get off so easily, however. “Where’ll I thrOw T them?” was the next question. “Give them to me, and I’ll put them in the fire,” I said, holding out my

lia nil. “ What! and have Mary’s hands all cut to pieces when she cleans out the ashes in the morning—not likely. You can’t throw them in. the fire.” “All right,' do what you like witli them,” I grumbled, trying to settle down to my reading again. “But you haven’t told me where I’m to throw them,” persisted my tormentor. “I have,” I replied sulkily. “Where, then?” “Out,” I snapped. “Now, John, be reasonable. We really must dispose of the wretched things in some sensible way.” I wheeled round in my chair. “Would you throw them to tlpe dickybirds to eat ? ” I asked sarcastically. “What do you think the dust bin’s

ifort” I “.If I put thorn in the bustbin, what about the danger to the dustmen, and the people who sort out the rubbish? They might be severely cut, and bleed to death, or get lockjaw,or something.” “That's true enough,” 1 agreed, shutting my book; for I saw it was hopeless to expect peace till these wretched blades were disposed of. Besides, I 'm rather keen on a problem, and this one was beginning, to look as if it might be interesting. “We could bury them in the garden at midnight,”'! suggested. “You’ll not go near the garden with the horrid things,” said my wife decidedly. She was certainly taking the business in deadly earnest. “Dibble, the gardener, would be sure to dig them up; and if he didn’t, the children Would. The very thought makes me shudder. No; I think you should take them with you in the morning, and drop them over a bridge into the river.

“No fear!” I said. “I would bo arrested .on suspicion o.f trying to dispose of some guilty secret, and you would see them dragging the river to fish if up again. No, no, that won’t do; but I’Jl tell you what. I’ll take them into the. office, and leave them on my desk. They can lie there for ever, and no one win interfere with them except that inquisitive little reptile of an office boy; and he’ll perhaps teach himself a lesson with them.” >So into the office I took them, and sure enough, the very next day the little beggar had two lingers on his right hand bandaged, and a . cut on his chin, while the packet of blades was minus one. Also, I saw that the incipient down which I had been noticing od his chin for some time was now irregular and patehy-looking. I think I’ll have to get the little rascal a holder, and present him with the rest of my old blades! —C., in the Weekly Scotsman.