WITH PIPE ALIGHT.

Southland Times, Issue 21273, 19 December 1930, Page 14

WITH PIPE ALIGHT.

On Christmas Gifts. (By Criticus.) “I am glad Christmas comes but once a year,” said Maurice, and he carefully pressed down into his capacious pipe a generous helping of my tobacco. I must confess 1 would have agreed with him bad not one of my nieces, with that temerity which characterizes all women when they enter the arena of men, presented me in anticipation of the stockin' night with what she undoubtedly believed to be can. istered ambrosia. If there are guardian angels who watch over fools and females, they desert them at the doorsteps of tobacconists’ shops, for verily I will say unto anyone who will listen, that it is easier to find an unresponsive toe in a picture audience than a woman who can pick tobacco. T have seen and met with women who could be trusted in the selection ot cigarettes, some who could purchase tobacco pouches without falling into the sin of sacrificing utility to mere ornamentation, a few who might choose a pipe worthy of male friendship, but none, yea none, who could discriminate in tobacco, or, even on a blind chance, put their hand upon a good cigar.

It was one of my nieces, and she, being feminine, had all the feminine graces —the chief purpose of which is to excuse sin—who had given me the tobacco Maurice was using as his own. I had smoked one pipeful so that I could not use my niece’s gift to help make the season brighter for someone whose taste in tobacco was less exacting than my own. And having smoked one pipeful I had no wish to warn Maurice. “I can appreciate your attitude, my dear Maurice—you will find my matches on the mantlepiece beside you, the ash-tray is behind you, and there is a soft couch to your left —you need not worry further. I think we are in complete agreement as to the identity of the best doctor in this town. I can appreciate your attitude. I find that the two principal evils of Christmas-tide are concerned with the ebb and flow of gifts. One, that so many people send to me the things I do not want, or that 1 would buy in any case; and two, that I find it so difficult to discover what other people do want, and what they would not buy if confined to tL.ir own resources. In other years I have tried all manner of things: the reading of cups, spirit mediums, ouija boards, and have even sought the advice of those divinities who preside at the counters in shops. I have made many mistakes in my life, Maurice—l dare say as many as those of which I have been the victim—but only in recent times have I, with that pertinacity which is the characteristic of mv race and house, at last evolved the infallible system through which, if mv victims obtain no satisfaction, 1 at least am released from worry. Maurice, I take two pins and a copy of the shopping page of the Southland Times. The pin with the black heed and blunt point I use when 1 am considering gifts for my male friends. The white headed, sharp pointed implement, you are doubtless aware, can serve only one duty. I take the pin in my right hand, twirl myself and the pin about three times, and with eyes closed make a stab at the pr-e. The gift nearest to the point punctured by the pin I secure for the object of my interest; that is, of course, if he or she is worthy of this cost,

and mv finances can stand the outlay. If neither of these is satisfied, I twirl myself four times, and try again. I have found this beneficial, both mentally and physically, and I, being rotund and of weighty disposition, have discovered a most interesting fact, which is that at the end of the season, my loss in lbs almost exactly agrees with my outlay in £s . . “I know,” said Maurice morosely, I think. “I had one of your gifts last year and I think you must have used a bodkin. I have no doubt, too, that this tobacco was chosen for you by means of a process somewhat similar.”

Maurice, his face slightly green, fell back upon the couch. And I smiled discreetly.