Our Ladies’ Letter

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXIX, Issue 82, 11 August 1923, Page 2

Our Ladies’ Letter

Dear Tonia, I As the old Scotch Body said “It was a sight for sore cen” (why sore ones?) to see out little village literally swarming with heavily bo-modal-ed khaki. My word, but they were “any girl’s fancy” and no mistake. Full khaki regalia ought to he “do rigneur” at least once a month so as to give us poor civics a treat, and make us feel like the “Gottenberger Ladies” in the song. And what an evening they had! Don’t tell mo the men have not got the best of it. They may not have thought so next morning! The dance on Tuesday night was i quite a successful entertainment and enjoyable, in the Parish Hall. Tho Girl Scouts had a jolly little evening when they presented their Scoutraistress, Hiss E. Murray, with souvenirs on tho eve of her departure for tho North, the president, Mrs Dick, making a nice little speech for the occasion. Friday night last week, Mrs Jefferies entertained some friends. Bridge was played, Mrs L. Webster winning the first, prize, and Mrs D. Glasgow second. Mrs L, Curtis had a small bridge party on Tuesday night, Mrs A. W. Budge coming first, Mrs D. Glasgow second, Mrs R. Hogg and Miss Zelda Hogg (Midhirst) have returned after an enjoyable holiday spent in Hastings and Wellington. The Old Boys’ (giddy young-things) Ball was as everyone thought it would bo a great affair. Everything was well done, and tho M.C.’s kept the ball rolling in good style. Those who did not go are sorry, and those who went did not get home until very early in the morning. “We won’t go home until Morning.” But this week’s small gaieties were tempered with a note of sadness throughout. Wednesday’s solemn ceremony, the unveiling of the Memorial Gateway, reminded us only too forcibly of a lost friend, Colonel Malone, and also incidentally of i others who likewise made tho supreme sacrifice during the great war. The function was solemnly and offeetivoly carried out. The hymns j played by the New Plymouth Terri- ,! torial Band were most impressive. i/After the ceremony Mrs H. Penn enI’tertained n large party of Colonel Malone’s old friends,l also his two - 1 sons, Brian and Terence, and their respective families. , A few friends met at Mrs L Webster’s on Thursday afternoon, to bid- | farewell to Mrs W. Webster, who, with her family, is about to take up j her residence at Whangarei. We like not parting with old friends. Amongst those present wore Mrs W. "U obster, Mrs W. H. Young, Mrs Dillon Oarboiy, Airs Porritt, Miss Porritt, Mrs Uniaeke, Mrs ’ A. E. Copping, Mrs O. Penn, Mrs H. Penn, Mrs Hall, Mrs Thorpe, and Mrs J. B. Richards. Much regret was ex- | pressed at the departure of the j guest, and many were the sincere j wishes to accompany her on, her way. In the evening Mrs L. Webster entertained some bridge players. Tho first prize was secured by Mrs Noel Fookes, Mrs Jefferies coming second, and Mrs A. W. Budge third. At Mrs Budge’s bridge afternoon on Ifiursda.y, Airs S. Pitt was the lucky winner. 1 Have you .heard Tonia, My Dear, your new brolly, must bo made of brightly hued oil silk which quite outshines silk. So my Dear, when next I visit you I expect to find you unfurling an orange or pe.haps pumice “lam-keeper-off,” with naturally mac en suite—what 1 what! Strasburg potted meat; Take one and a half lbs of good beef steak cut imo dice, and put in an earthenware * jar with a quarter of a pint of bufc- | ter at, the bottom,. Tie the jar close up and put into a saucepan of boiling water. Boil for one hour, then aud cloves, allspice, nutmeg, salt, and very little pepper to taste. Boil till tender, then let it get cold. Pub the meat through the mincer several times, with four anchovies, add a quarter of lb of butter, wonk it well I together with the gravy, warm a litI tie, then press into small pots, aud pour melted butter over tho tops of the jars. Vegetable marrow pudding: Small marrow, one teacup breadcrumbs, two tablespoonluis liour, ono lemon, two ozs butter, three eggs, aud two of sugar. Boil marrow, peeled and cut into slices, with a very little salt. When tender drain and press through a sieve. Mix with flour and crumbs, add tho butter and sugar beaten to a cream, tho grated rind and juicq of lemon (small one). Pour into Well-buttered mould and bake (or steam) for one hour and a half. Quite nice it is for a change, and when you grow your own marrows. A young bride went to buy some meat. Said tho little Bride.- “£ want a piece of meat without fat, bone, or gristle.” The butcher regarded her reflectively for a moment, then turned and carefully surveyed hi, s ktoek and remarked: “You’d bettor have an egg ma’am.” As tho guards were about to lead away the condemned prisoner, his lawyer, who had defended him, stepped up. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you old man,” he said

sympathetically as ho sadly shook hands. “Don’t mention it,” was the prisoner’s unexpectedly caustic rejoinder, “ain’t five years enough.” Priscilla tells mo that “Lillies of tho Field,” the new comedy at the Ambassadors 4 Theatre, written by Hastings Turner, is one delightful ripple of laughter from start to finish. Don’t misunderstand, it is not at all farcical, and just a scream, but tho lines have real humor. The plot is most amusing and of course very well staged, the whole a clever production. Did I once mention before that “Jilo tho Reckless,” Herbert Jenkins, is most amusing, if you want to forgot there is such a thing as time. “The Gland Stealer” by Bertram Oayton must be quite up-to-date, if it has anything to do with the priceless monkeys in Paris, the youth-reviving gland givers: How about sotting up a monkey run, or station, or farm, call it what yon like. As Bernard Shaw would say: “Let’s do it if thoro’s any money in it.”

One of the “Old Boys” has just strolled in to talk over the dance, so I leave you, Toma, My Dear. In spite of Crow Quill, I am about to slack off a bit. He writes, as you well remember: “Do not alfow idleness to deceive you, for while you give him to-day, he steals to-morrow from you.” Not much, don’t you believe it, I’m going to garden all day tomorrow. Yours among the sings and snails of which, if I remember tbo old nursery days, 4 ‘little boys were made of.” VERONICA. 4 ‘Everything comes if a man will only wait.” Disraeli wrote it, he knew a thing or two.—l’m waiting.