WOMEN AND HOME

Stratford Evening Post, Issue 41, 26 September 1928, Page 2

WOMEN AND HOME

ITEMS OF INTEREST. (THAT DEVASTATING “BUT.” It’s a positive strain on most of ns not to quality anything n;ico we may happen to say about each other. We exclaim ardently: “\cs, ,Betty’s a perfect darling—but you simply can’t rely on licr. She s hopclossly forgetful.” “Mrs Smith’s a dear little soul < always readjy to help you out of a hole—but —my dear, she s an awful gossip—an absolut© terror,” Now why, in heaven’s nlirne, can’t we leave out that horrible little “but”? Now can’t we step short at the nice hit? Nobody ontearth is perfect. We struggle as hard as we know how, to do the decent thing. How hard w© struggle nobody knows but ourselves. Yen can take it from me “Betty” knows all about the “forgetting” part of herself that causes such hUvoc and: heart-burning among - her friends. What she probably doesn’t •know is that you think her a “perfect darling.” Couldn’t you manage to think of th© “darling” part instead of the bit? Heiw about tacking yourself securely to Mrs. Smith’s kindness of heart and everlasting willingness to dig you out of holes, instead of fixing pm her 1 broadcasting propensity ies? If people would take more notice of those qualities w© do manage to rear, insteNd of fastening on the things we dhh’t exactly shine in, ii| would help muchly.

DON’T ACT ALt THE TIME. YOU ARE NICER AS YOU ARE. In a daily paper recently there was a story of an ancient gentleman who, having been married for seventy years, was being interviewed by a Prelss /reporter. He slxid: “My wife is so artful I don’t know her yet- —not by any means I’ l Few of us qre as successful as this old lady; most of us are “foundout” in less than ai year’s constant intimacy—hut that does not prevent us trying to he “interesting”, to ho in ijf.i/et, anything other than what we are. And l how exhausting it is and how, irritating to find that practically no man finds it necessary to go on like i this! Frederick Jones, who is hy nature a- constant husband and a hard-work-ing man, does not give himself headache by trying to make out ho is a cross between a. cat burglar and Don Juan. And William Smith, who is “lively,” dhes not try and make people think him a born country curate. He “carries on” quite openly. But few women seem able rdrilly to be themselves. Margaret is case in point. Margaret, when with a woman, is as simple as a child—she plays patience, she loves the pictures, she reads Ethel Dell, she stuffs herself on chocolates. Marpjxret, when with a maw, jls a vamp She decided to be a vamp when she was sev/enteen, chiefly because sho had seen so matin films in which the had girl of the fa.mil v falls into the arras of a mil lion/lire in the lastreel, and had read so many novels itn which the trfmaway heroin© re-, turns heme at last to rejoice in a good: man’s love. The films c|id not show how the bad girl of the family ever came to meet the millionaire, considering the way in which she conducted herself in London’s lowest night-clubs nor did the novels quite explUin how the reckless heroine managed to keep the good man devoted to her whilst she was wallowing in xhe mud—at any rate, Margaret decided that to look (vampy was the sure road to success. And she does work hard. She blacks her eyes, practises a low throat voice, and wears as little as she can without coming into actual conflict with the police. She sings “smart” eongs and screams with laughter if anything “fast” is said, and hints at a past she has never had. I am, sure she falls into hej at night utterly worn out with all this acting. It must como so hard to her-