WATERLESS WEEK-END

New Zealand Times, Volume LIII, Issue 12395, 15 March 1926, Page 7

WATERLESS WEEK-END

ARLINGTON’S BLACK SATURDAY TRAGIC TALE OF DOMESTIC TROUBLES ABUNDANCE CAME AT NIGHT (By “Shibli Bagarag”.) Saturday morning just before breakfast found ano doing a little surreptitious hosing in the back garden, knew there was a water shortage, but never dreamt what the week-end was to bring. The first indication ol trouble was a frantic waving by my wife from the kitchen window. She was shouting out something about water, and fearing the proximitv of some water inspecting fiend, I hastily turned off the hose tap and scurried inside. There I found Mrs Bagarag frantic with excitement and filling up every pot and bucket she could lay her hands on “Where is he,” I hissed, meaning, of course, the water inspector, wondering at the time whether my wife meant to drive him off the premises with pails of water. “Where is who?” asked Mrs B. as she reached for another P°t. “The water inspector,’ I replied. Mrs Bagarag smiled. “I don t think you need worry about the water inspector this week-end,” she replied. “Why on earth didn’t you tell me earlier about the supply being cut off?” . _. ~ Of course the morning s limes explained everything. The water supply was to be cut off at mid-day, and here we were with just four hours to go and next to no preparations made. The next hour saw Mrs Bagarag and myself religiously filling every utensil wo couH lay our hands on, for to supply the water wants of a family of two grown-ups and four growing children requires r. email reservoir. At the end of the hour we proudly took an inventory as follows: One bathfnl, one copper full, three tub®, 1 three buckets, four feeiosen© tins, nine pots and a small array of jugs, and cups. We estimated we were prepared for a water famine of thirty-six tours. We had failed to take into consid-

eration loss through possible misadtenture. Pour young children roaming the house of a Saturday morning are usually not altogether idle. Kiddies love water as many a married man will sadly tell. However, to work j went.

As I neared mv happy heme four* hours later a grand chorus of yells greeted my ears. This was really nothing unusual, but the volume of howls was rather more than usual.

As I passed tha garden tap I noticed a gurgling, empty noise of suction. Yes, the water was off alright, but, thank goodness we were prepared. How 6oon was I to be disillusioned.

The children had been bnsy—"very busy during my absence. Pete*, wno wjw now standing; behind' the kitchen door with a highrater mark of tears, had no* rountsd for our previous bathful of rater by the simpfe act of pulling the ylng when his mother wasn’t looking. Thomas, who was yelling his Inngs out in the bedroom, had been sailing his boat in Ihe copoer, which wasn’t so bad in itvdf. had he not imparted r touch of realism by making the “sea” blue, with the blue hag. Ruth, roy eldest, was hawling with consistent vigour outside the hack dcor Her offence was to challenge tho littje girl next 3oor that her tub of water woult empty more quickly than another tub which she handed over generously to her mate foi* the interesting competition. Ruth’s howls began in the first instance when her nextdoor mate cheated by pulling out the plub of her tubs sooner before Ruth could pull hers. Although not joining in the grand, chorus, my youngest fourth had done her share of the water waste by emptying all the food she could lay her hands on into our buckets of water. We had taken her to the Zoo the previous Sunday, and her excuse over the bucket business was that “she want to feed do p’itty ducks.” All thoso facts were duly explained to me by my nearly demented better half, and together we sadly took stock of what water was left us. We decided it was a case for severe i rationing of supplies, and to emphasise the point 1 reneatod the thrashings to those already administered by my wife to Ruth, Peter, and Tommy. I will pass over the misery of that afternoon and evening, sufficient to say that by nightfall we werv reduced to one pot and four jugs full of water. Everything was dry, dirty, and odorous, and on retiring to bed at 10 o’clock I fell into a fitful slumber. I was dreaming of waterless desert wanderings and of a dreary, tormented, waterless world of wind and dust, when T woke up suddenly with a start. * A delicious melody was sounding in mv ears. { Tt was +ho s , ' , uid of trickling water. T turned to Mrs Bagarag, and shook her vigorously. “Darling,’' 7 exclaimed, “the water ! is turned on again !” , We both listened intently. The sounds wire unmistakable. And then a cold fear gripped mv heart. It was water all right, hut whv was the sound so persistent—why so general ? With a bound T j urn rod out of bed—* an inch of water! Water—^lori-us water! It was everywhere. Running all over the Voise. In every room. The tul>s brimming• over and running to the ground. The hath swilling merrily over the brim.

Every t?rv was dr/my its dut>, nobly and fpflrf' ,c slv. Twas not dreaming. Wo bar! on to turn tho taps off wo wont +r> bod. and the siipnlv bad boon turned on, generously, in tho *