NOT SO EASY THE SURPRISE OMELETTE

Hawera Star, Volume LIV, 2 March 1935, Page 10

NOT SO EASY

THE SURPRISE OMELETTE

It looked so easy at the exhibition. The demonstrator had whisked the egg to a beautiful creamy froth; the mixture had gone into a very, ordinary frying-pan; then, hey presto! In next to no time a golden omelet had formed, fit for any king. Beryl had stood right in the front of the crowd of onlookers, with her mother she had watched the whole demonstration from beginning to end. So straightforward did the cookery seem and so delicious the result that she had made up her mind that, when the chance came, she too would make such an omelet as a surprise for her mother.

Now she had had the chance —the house to: herself, the kitchen to herself, an egg from the larder, the wliisk, the pan, the knob of 'butter, and all. the time she needed. Beryl looked sorrowfully at the sad, yellow, leathery lump that was her first surprise omelet. True, it was a first attempt; but she had copied that exhibition so faithfully, sometimes

even muttering to. herself the demonstrator’s patter as the mixture was prepared. And yet it had come to this. And Beryl idly folded her omelet over again, but the leathery mass immediately sprang back. She tidied up quickly before her parents returned, and was about to throw the omelet into the fire when her more > economical nature prevailed; she went into the garden and carefully laid it on the bird-tray.

The family were fitting at tea when they were startled by pandemonium outside.

Beryl’s father hurried to the window. “The birds have gone mad!” he announced.

Beiyl and her mother ran to see the excitement. Angry starlings were fighting on, the bird-tray ; a host of sparrows chattered greedily around and took advantage of the starlings’ squabbles to thieve bits of food; tits joined in the scramble, and oven two shy chaffinches. “What’s the to-do?”, asked Beryl’s father.

Beryl was about to explain when her mother did it for her. “I’ll tell you,” she said. “I made an omelet yesterday, just as we saw at the exhibition —you remember, Beryl? Bui mine didn’t quite turn out right. It was like rubber. So I gave it to the birds. I suppose they’ve, only just had courage to start on it. Anyway what they’re eating looks like it.” “It’s not,” said Beryl quietly, “it’s mine. I’ve just made it—like leather. I put it out there.” “Was mine there when you put yours there?” asked her mother anxiously.

“No,” said Beryl. “Ah, well, I’m glad mine was as nice ns yours,” was the cheerful answer. “An. omelet a day .”

“Keeps the birds on the tray,” finished Beryl.

THOSE OLD NEWSPAPERS!

The daily paper, when read, has a thousand household uses and will save many pence.

Damped newspaper is the best possible cleanser for the top of the gas coker and for enamel kettles, being a splendid grease absorber. Out squares of newspaper and hang them on a string by the sink. If you use them to wipe grease and bits of food off the plates before washing them, your water will keep far cleaner and more pleasant to use. Crumpled newspapers are excellent for polishing many things. At an

English country house, famous for its old brassware, the housekeeper says that she finds newspaper pads far better than dusters for polishing brass, for the newspaper never leaves smears as cloths are apt to do. Crumple up the newspaper until it is quite soft, and when it begins to fall to pieces make fresh pads.

“Yo.u have no idea,” said the proud mother, “how clever Freddie is at school. Fred, come here and tell uncle what two and two make.” “Five,” said Fred. “There. You see?” exclaimed mother. “Only one out.”