BENISON OF THE BATH

Otago Daily Times, Issue 23332, 26 October 1937, Page 15

BENISON OF THE BATH

WHEN THINGS GO WRONG Maybe it’s the weather ... the children particularly trying . . . cakes a rotten failure . . . soot’s blown down the chimney . . . milk’s gone sour . . . fruitless search around the shops for the exact wool to match . . altogether footsore, heartsore, utterly fed to the teeth. You are ready to indulge in an orgy of self-pity—ego reigns supreme Everything has gone wrong, no one cares a hoot about you, .and your nose is red—and ready to take refuge in a sympathetic hanky. Little woman, you’ve had a woozy day! WHEN. IN ROME If only something nice would happen (says an exchange); something that would put you right. Ah! why not a bath? In the olden days the Romans made quite a ritual of their baths—the pampered beauties, scented and elaborately coiffured, luxuriated in baths almost big enough to swim in. Heavily perfumed and softened water, or goat’s milk, steamed and bubbled, frothed and eddied to the administrations of several attendants! The surroundings were spacious, and bath time was something in the nature of a social gathering. E- my morning the ladies of note made their way to the baths, and there indulged in all the gossip of the day; were massaged and oiled; had their hair painstakingly arranged in curls and ringlets, and their complexions attended to. In the lazy, soothing atmosphere of the baths all cares were blown awgy, and light chatter and refreshment was the order of the morning. BANISH THE BLUES Again, why not a bath? A soft perfumed soaking that will smooth that furrowed brow and sooth that ruffled temper. “ Oh, I can’t be bothered! ” aches your head. You’re taking your punishment lying down, aren’t you—you can’t make any effort to ward off the approaching nervestorm, well take it lying down, but in the bath! Be/ prepared for those days when Old Man Depression overtakes you, and have your soaps, bath essences, and large towels just lying in wait to lake you from the black depths to foamy heights. Luxuriate in hot perfumed water, and don’t hurry over it. Take your time, and the fragrant steam will recall memories of scenes long past. BEGONE DULL CARE You sprinkle the water with violet anc l_voila! the woods where once you picked the shy scented flowers appear through the steam curtain and happy voices sound in the -miet lap of the water against the side- of the bath. Carnation conjures up that moonlit evening when you picked the floppy, heady blooms and tucked that crimson one in your hair. Lilac nods its heavy head, and poppy twines its stems beside the temples of the east, pine rises from sound-dulled paths beneath great trees, and lemon brings the sharp tang of cool groves. Laze in the warm, caressing water and feel your cares drop from you and gurgle down the drain when you pull out the plug. If you haven’t any bath salts, empty a few drops of that perfume you have not yet used into the bath.