THE NEW CHARLADY.

Otago Witness, Issue 3764, 4 May 1926, Page 85

THE NEW CHARLADY.

By

CLAIRE PERRY.

(Copyright.—Fob the Witness.)

The family were in the middle of lunch when, “What do you think she will be like?” queried Mollie, the four-teen-year-old. “I only hope she won’t resemble Mrs O’Connor or Miss Black, who talked and rang up when they should have been at work,” snapped her mother, who was feeling upset at the thought of a new charlady. “There she is at the back door,” she broke off, hurrying down the passage. At length she opened the door —a difficult feat, as Geoff had broken the handle for the third time that week. On the step towered a huge woman, a real sky-scraper! and Mrs Clive tottered back, three shades paler. “Won’t you come in?” she managed to stammer. “Straight in and take off your things.” An echoing “Thanks” rumbled overhead, and she fled up the hall, thankful to escape for a few minutes. “She’s perfectly monstrous,” Mrs Clive told the family—“monstrous in tlie proper sense of the word. And she’s brought a child—just my luck. I never get treasures like other people}” Poor Mrs Clive! Instead of being sympathetic, the family giggled weakly, murmuring, “Here she comes again!” as the floor creaked violently. Mrs Clive went tremulously towards the kitchen, to find the sky-scraper contemptuously surveying some t towels that mother had flung on the table. “I knew some people who never washed their tea towels for seventeen years,” she roared, fixing them with a baleful glare. “Would you mind doing the verandah first?” suggested Mrs Clive, anxious to change the subject. After scrubbing the verandah violently for several minutes, the charlady yelled for one of the young gents to move “that motor bike.” How she knew there were such things as young gents in the house remains a mystery. John went sulkily to her aid, to be scolded roundly for spilling oil on “her verandah.” At last she departed, and Mrs Clive heaved a sigh of relief as she roamed round the rooms. True, the window’s, instead of being cleaned, were hidden from view by the blinds, the verandah had turned bright yellow as the result of soda, and the floors that should have been polished w’ere merely greasy. Poor Geoff w r as lamenting in a corner, because the charlady’s daughter had licked most of the paint off hr soldiers, and two of the best dinner plates were broken, and yet! Mrs Clive repeated a sigh of relief till the awful thought occurred as to how they should get rid of her. The charlady, though so magnificent, was not on the telephone, and not one of the family from her husband dowm w r ould communicate that she was unsuitable. They worried over the problem for a week, when Mrs Vere Jones rang up and informed them with much dignity that she had found a better place.