WITH PIPE ALIGHT

Southland Times, Issue 18969, 16 June 1923, Page 9 (Supplement)

WITH PIPE ALIGHT

A PIECE OF STRING.

(By

Criticus.)

A friend who has made a study of the modern psychologists informed me that the explanation of forgetfulness is dislike. The thing we detest we try to forget, and when we forget it is to afford a protection for (he mind, which must otherwise become unhinged. Personally I could not accept this .generalisation, chiefly because I have had a sincere and really enthusiastic dislike to .castor oil ever since I was old enough to have my nose held preparatory to its compulsory consumption, but I have never been able to forget it. I explained my point of view to Maurice that day when he met me in Dee street and marvelled at a piece of string I had tied about my second finger, the longest one on my hand. Maurice was visibly impressed by the power of my reply to the psychologists, who seem to me to discover a magnificent collection of peculiarities which will not bear looking into, and I thought I had carried off the thing rather well until he looked on my string-encircled finger again ....

“Then you may forget something for which you have a fondness,” he said, “and so the ring of string is to reminded you of something, somebody you like?”

Maurice is a bachelor and therefore has • lever been involved in that most serious concomitant of married bliss: the proper xecution of a wife’s commissions. “The ring, my dear Maurice,” I began in my most impressive tones, “is the emblem of • the unity of the home . . . .” “I thought it was a survival of the bonds about the hands of women by means of which a man dragged her willy-nilly to his home,” Maurice interposed lightly. “There you are right and yet wrong.” I assured him, though I must say I resented his interruption, “whether willy-nilly or nolens-volens she went matters little to us, since to-day woman marries only where she chooses and after an examination of the bank account and a consultation with the crystal-gazers or palmists to see what the future holds for her—which means that the ring is placed on her finger only at her desire. It is not a bond; it is a pledge of fealty, a reminder of the link that binds in happiness . . . .” “It has a restraining influence, of course,” Maurice intervened. "Mark you the use of a ring in the nose of a bull or a pig, and mark you that the married woman on holiday will oftimes leave her wedding ring in the jewel case on the dressing table.”

“Not in our set, my Maurice. I wonder where you pick up these queer ideas! The ring is a constant reminder of a beautiful union—it is there so that the wearer may not forget somebody of whom the wearer is fond. One’s hand is always present. One may lose one’ head, but never one’s hand and so we invariably use the hand as the instrument for the jogging of the memory. An ink spot may be used instead of string, but usually it is put on the finger in the form of a ring. It is a circlet of remembrance, but a husband’s commissions in the city are invariably associated with parcels and the use of string is therefore singularly appropriate. There is something strangely subtle in the association of a ring of string with the discharge of a commission . . . .” "But say you neglect to look at your finger? What then?” "Maurice a husband never forgets to look at his finger—he expects to find the string there. You see this piece of string I was tied on this morning by my wife, and ! see how cunningly she placed the knot inside so that my thumb would be attracted I to it and thus by a gentle irritation keep 'me from forgetting. Immediately my thumb touches that knot I am reminded !of her .... I see her standing just inside 1 the front door, straightening my tie and 1 satisfying herself that I am not wearing odd boots. Then with the inspection com- . pleted, 1 receive my commission and the 1 string is tied on. That scene comes back 1 to me as I notice that cord-ring, Maurice, j and every word of her conversation is reI called—this string is the wireless between • us—it is my aerial . . . .”

“Very beautiful, but if you have several commissions?” “Strings of different colours, combinations of rings and circlets in various positions—like Pitman shorthand! The notion could be carried to any lengths and in every case the association of ideas would begin to whirr and wL\rl, translating each string into a gentle whisper, too light to he heard, too insistent to be ignored. But what 1 want to emphasise, Maurice, is that if my task involved something for which I had a violent distaste, this ring would be unnecessary ; it is, therefore, an emblem, a .ignificstion cf something close to my heart, or something for which I have a very strong regard . . . .” "I don’t quite follow you there,” said Maurice, who can be very dull of comprehension at times. "I can quite understand you not forgetting castor oil because you hate it, but'do you say you can forget your wife?” That question I refused to answer. “It is a wife’s orders, Maurice, which a man puts in the pigeon holes at the back of his mind in order that they may not become mixed up with his business. This piece of string is the key to. those pigeon ho'es . . . .” “Then we know this string is not to remind you of castor oil. But what in particular does it signify?” “I cannot tell you, Maurice," I replied, “because that would mean the unlocking of the pigeon hole before the appointed minute, an error which might break the charm.” And I moved away in order that his importunities should not proceed further .... It was necessary to return that evasive answer, because a bachelor like Maurice could not hope to understand this mystery. Besides. I had discovered that for the life of me 1 could not remember what that piece of string did signify. ***** It was not until 1 returned to my home that evening that I discovered from my wife the meaning of that piece of string: it was to purchase a bottle of castor oil for my golf clubs.