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FIRST AND LAST LOVE

(By DORIS JAMES.) First love is very sweet—so thrilling-, so tremulous. Nothing afterwards is quite so mysterious and baffling as the first tentative squeeze of the hand, and the first stolen kiss. The future is a rosy dream—no one ever loved as you. You go da.ri.cing together. His encircling arm feels a protection for life. His last haftcrown takes you home in a taxi. His last pennies buy you a bunch of violets. It’s all so simple and idyllic. But first mother finds out that you consider yourself engaged. She says you’re much too young to think of anything of the sort, and then she tells father. Father isn’t at all sympathetic. How can George keep a wife on £1 a week? He storms, he rages. The impudence of suggesting such a thing to his daughter—a mere child, not old enough to know her own mind. You say you can earn money, too, but father only snorts with renewed vigour. He’ll have nothing of the sort for a year at-least. DEPTHS OF DESPAIR So, with many tears and oaths of allegiance, you write to George to- tell him it’s off. You cry and cry at flie cruelty of the cold hard world that has blighted your young life. It seems an insult to George that you can still eat your meals. Then one night you go tb a party. A nice-loking young man says a lot of pleasant ’things to you—that your eyes are like the shining ornaments on a Christmas tree, that he thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever met. When you get home you forget to kiss the pillow good-night for the distant George. You forget several other nights in succession. The nice-looking young man turns up again, and - you realise with a guilty pang that life’s looking up. The news comes one day that George-is engaged to a girl whose father is less firm. For a time your pride is hurt, but the nice-looking young man is consoling. First love is over. .. SOMETHING DIFFERENT Last love is quite different. Sometimes it comes soon after first love, sometimes years later. It just happens, and once it’s come you forget all about first love, or remember only to smile at youthful folly. Usually it comes unexpectedly, or rather the realisation of it does. A man strays s nto your life by accident. Without realising it ydu talk to him about things that you have never discussed with anyone else. He seems to understand your hopes and fears. You find going out with other men rather dull. He stays away for a week, and you have the depression of an attack of ’flu. The day he drops in again to see you life’s all right. You scold yourself for a fool, but there it is. And so it goes on until he tells you what you’ve known all the time, though no't cohsciously-r-that he loves you. You realise that you’ve met your fate. All in the world that matters is to be his companion, to nurse him when he’s ill, to manage his house —and the acid test of whether it really is last <ove—■-you want him as the father of your children. . apple green georgette. Miss McCullough (Ardmore), salmon pink crepe de chine. Miss J. Walker (Papakura), cyclamen embossed georgette. Miss B. Cosgrave (Papakura), orange vale blue and silver. Miss J. Wilson (Papakura), French blue beaded in silver. Miss D. Watson (Papakura), blue georgette and silver tissue. Miss M. Clarke (Papakura), white georgette silver and moonlight sequin trimmings and hand-painted shawl. Miss Arbuckle (Papakura), moonlight blue and hand-painted shawl. Miss Capper (Auckland), cyclamen taffeta and georgette, with silver rosebuds. Miss Patricia Dorking (Ardmore), amethyst crepe de chine and silver lace. Miss G. Rush worth (Opua, Bay of Islands), French blue marocain. Miss D. M. Spencer (Takapuna), maize coloured brocade, relieved with flares of flame satin and painted shawl. Miss Waters (Clevedon), apricot shot silk bead trimming. Miss A. McLennan (Papakura), rose georgette, with silver lace. Miss L. F. Mellsop (Papatoetoe), jade georgette, with vieux rose ribbon trimmings. A narrow piece of motor-tyre tube tacked round the edges of the head of a hair-broom will prevent marks on walls and scratches on furniture. ♦ * * If your hot water bag is temporarily out of commission, a bag made of flannel and filled with hot bran will answer the purpose very well.

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SUNAK19270704.2.34

Bibliographic details

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 87, 4 July 1927, Page 4

Word Count
734

FIRST AND LAST LOVE Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 87, 4 July 1927, Page 4

FIRST AND LAST LOVE Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 87, 4 July 1927, Page 4