BARBARA SAYS DELILAH MUST PAY HER WAY

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22777, 10 July 1937, Page 1 (Supplement)

BARBARA SAYS DELILAH MUST PAY HER WAY

"I N these days no one dreams of running a car and paying transport for goods," said Barbara oracularly. "Delilah must pay her way like everything else." A statement so fantastic shows at once that we were in the throes of one of those spasms of economy that descend from the blue at times upon even the most abandoned of spendthrifts. In other words, Barbara had been faced at one and the same time with the necessity for relicensing Delilah and paying her hill to the proprietors of the service-car for the carriage of a quarter's groceries. The shock had been sufficient temporarily to subdue even that wild, free spirit. "We must simply make up our minds to do all our shopping when we are in town with Delilah," she went on, imagination as usual sweeping her away. "Personally, I shall make a point of doing without any little luxuries that I happen to overlook, and wait till next time." A Wife's Non-Essentials

It was all verv well for my wife to talk like that. As a matter of fact, the luxuries she proposed to do without were a pound of tobacco for me and a razor lor Paddy. When we pointed Uiis out to her an impassioned duet in canon, she merely replied that it was a pity to become a slave to the smoking habit, and as for razors—well. Paddy was always complaining of the cold, and what was the point of living in the backblocks if one wero to be ridden by conventions?

Such privations being not entirely new to our experience, Paddy and I were able to accept with resignation, conifoi ted by the knowledge that their duration would be brief, that within a week Barbara would be cheerfully paying sixpence freight on a tin of baking powder. Unfortunately, however, thin particular spasm of economy coincided diabolically with an influx of unexpected visitors that flowed upon us like a tide, and, like the same tide, threatened to engulf us ere it turned again home

It was, of course, delightful to have Cousin George descend unannounced (with three friends, looking for a little shooting) nn :i spend a somewhat hungry week-end. It was even endurable to see Aunt Agatha arrivo unheralded on the doorstep (with two Knglish cousins who wanted to have a look at the backblocks) and remain for the inside of the following week. The Book of Words Looking in his bearded passion a little like some of the cruder pictures of .Moses striking the unresponsive rock, l'addy flung upon the table the little booklet (tastefully bound) on correct dieting that had been Aunt Agatha's parting gift to him, and spoko feelingly, "Is ut the loike o' that one would be tellin" mo how to nte delicately, and herself not lavin' so much as a tin av tongues or a small little cake for our comfort?" "Never mind, Paddy," said Barbara soothingly. "That's the last visitor for ages and " lint, the words were struck from her lips by a dreadful yet familiar sound; it was thai spirited toot-toot of a horn with which town guests are wont to announce their unexpected arrival. 1 glanced into the empty bread-bin, the barren safe, the garnished shelves, and shuddered. To my startled fancy there was iu the strident note something oi

The Starving Guests

' By ANON

the sound of a hunting chorus. With a frenzied yelp Paddy opened the back door and vanished into the great open spaces, while Barbara, with a gesture grown almost automatic, reached for the flour-sifter and began to mix scones

It was a merry party of young people, arrived for the week-end. "That's the advantage of the fortyhour week," they told us. "You can always give your friends a little suprise on Saturday." Privately 1 felt that the surprise would be theirs —round about lunch-time. Emergency Measures

Meantime the scones went well—every one of them. Under cover of the noise as they tossed for the last. Barbara and L held hurried consultation in the woodshed. "This is a ease of emergency." she said, avoiding my eye. "Although I've decided not to have goods sent by service car, I think that perhaps to-day ." i stayed not upon the order of my going, but hurried to the telephone.

"Order plenty of top-side, so that we can have great big stews," murmured Barbara, her eyes dreamy with the lovely thought. " Oh, and a boler steak—and breart—-and don't forget salt—we haven't a scrap—three pounds of salt." ~

And this is where L blame Paddy. For his actual desertion I think there was every excuse; personally I would have fled the rising tide of visitors if 1 had had a hope of escaping Barbara's vigilance; moreover, it xvas one less mouth to feed. But that he should havo left a message with a neighbour

to ring and tell us that he had gone to town for the day in a passing car, and would bring back any parcels, seemed to be interfering with the course of nature. Of course, Barbara sprang at it. "Splendid! Then we won't have to pay freight. Just ring the store and tell them what to give him in case he gets in after the shops are shut." Full well I realised that shops were less than the dus'- to Paddy; the main point was that the hotels would be open. Therefore 1 was particularly explicit with my order, the more so because the telephone was in a temperamental mood so that my voice was caught bv the elements and flung in playful distortions across the intervening thirty miles. The Catastrophe The car was late, nor was there an.v sign of the returning prodigal. "1 didn't bring Paddy," our neighbour said apologetically as ho rummaged in the back for parcels. "As a matter of fact, he was rather lit uj/ and thought luvd wait for a day or two. I left him in a fi&li shop. All, here are your things; the chap in your store gave them to me. Hope they're all right; they look a bit queer to me." Not half so queer as they did to us when, with clutching, famished fingers, we tore open the parcels and revealed (1) Five bottles of peroxide, (2) three pounds of cpsom salts, («'s) an ancient and dissipated bowler hat, (4) a note from the store proprietor: "Sorry there was no bread left in town; it's like that on Saturdays." Into the appalled silenco fell Barbara's voice. "Yon must have talked with your month full." it was the last straw—that and the spectacle of a hostess, with seven starving guests awaiting her return, suddenly convulsed with idiot mirth. 1 spoke with dignity. "My mouth full? It hasn't been full for weeks." When we had both recovered, Barbara said suddenly, "Let's sleep in the bush. It's quite a dry night. You can slip back and get some blankets."