THE MAN WITH THE BAG

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIV, Issue 19833, 31 December 1927, Page 11

THE MAN WITH THE BAG

A PROMINENT FIGURE.:

FREEDOM ONCE AGAIN.

BACK TO THE FAMILY SHACK.

The man with the bag was abroad again yesterday and to him in particular one wishes a Very happy New Year. No! The bag must not be misunderstood. This man in his thousands was not packing home the wherewithal by which the New Year, if a sufficiency of recklessness is shown, is welcomed through a haze of artificial happiness that may end in a bad headache and a fit of depression that leads to all sorts of desperate and impossible resolutions—resolutions that may last the full 48 hours.

No! The bag of the man one saw all OVSI* the town yesterday was the little bag that contained his pyjamas and shavinggear and a_ couple of tins of tobacco and the "messages." The "messages" comprise the pieces of meat and boxes of strawberries and the pounds of peas which he was toJd to'briQg back with him to the camp or shack. This man, you see, has been back to work since Tuesday or Wednesday and last evening was off again with his bag, to rejoin his family for his second little holiday. It has been a long week, these three or four days of duty. Always a sound fellow who do<3s liiii most irksome tasks without much complaining, our friend has made the best of things through these days of unreality. Business, of course, was done, but he could not see the city except through the eyes of an automaton, for his heart was in the hills or by the sea where his family remained., "Baching" alt Home. He lived at home during these days and found home a very lonely placa indeed, although some of his kind paired off and "bached" together much more satisfactorily. Having had his dinner in town he would paddle off home and then wonder why ho had not gone to a theatre. Yet the theatre had had no appeal as long as lie was about Queen Street atad feeling its false atmosphere. The house was always very stuffy when he arrived and having opened doors and windows he would take himself into the parched garden and watch his flowers dying. He would tie up his tomatoes again and if it were worth while. The weeds above the brown grass required the mower over them, bub for the task he had no heart. Let 'em grow, he thought. He would sit about aud try tc read a book and wish he had the energy to go out and see a friend. At last he would go to bed—the unmade bed—and instead of going to sleep would think of the bush or the beach and yearn for the day of his return. In the morning he would make himself a cup oil tea and read the paper. Having tried to tidy up the place a bit, making poor work of the bedroom fluff with the mop, he would cook his bacon and eat witfci it a bit of bread about a week old. He constantly forgot to get a new loaf. The distasteful task of washing the dishes, over, he would dress and go to the city filled with the spirit of "another hopeless dawn." The Bag Once More. This sort of thing went on and life did not begin to ring true to him until yesterday he packed his little bag and prepared to get away at the earliest possible moment. He had a noticeably different step. It had something of its old swing and purposefulness about it. Throughout the day he and his bag were all over the place. They were "doing the messages." Queen Street was no longer a place of unreality. Once again the pleasure of reaching the last day was upon the man with the bag. He was in great form. At last he got away. By boat and bus and train he set out, often having a long walk before tjie journey could end. Others were compelled to wait until this morning but they will soon be there. It is easy to picture the arrival of the man with the bag, who now becomes "Dad." Small boys shout a glad welcome to hi.m and at once burst into long accounts of the morepork and the bunny and the dog that chased the seagull. Dad is glad to hear every detail of these matters and as soon as he has got himself: into very ancient clothes, is led forth by the bairns to find the New Year—and he finds a good one. on© imagines.