WITH BEST INTENTIONS.

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 92, 9 July 1927, Page 13

WITH BEST INTENTIONS.

OTHER PEOPLE'S PIES. What an interfering lot we are! Even the nicest of us. We just can’t let anybody get on with the job of living in their own way. We poke oui finger into anybody’s pie that happens to be near, says Jean North in an English paper. You light-heartedly let loose the news that you are going to spend your holiday in Switzerland. “Oh, my dear,” exclaims a friend, “don’t go to Switzerland in the summer; save Switzerland for the winter—there’s so much more to do in the winter than in the summer.” You casually mention you are having a suit with a kilted skirt and plain top. “Oh. I shouldn’t have a kilted skirt; it won’t suit you a bit! I should have a straight coat-frock effect if I were you, protests friend No. Two. You voice your idea of taking a bungalow by the river. “.lust the last thing on earth you ought to do, inv dear! I did that myself, so I know all about it. The horrible mists you get—it’s simply asking for rheumatism!** protests friend No. Three.

You decide to go to a fancy-dress hall as Madame Pompadour. Five members of your family spend a lot of time and energy handing out 15 reasons why you shouldn’t! Coming home from the office, you toy with the idea of retiring to bed early w'ith a hot-water bottle and a hook.

“Are you ill? Are you tired? Anything wrong? What’s up? Got the blues? Better have a game of cards; it will cheer you up more than going to bed.” By the time you’ve finished disclaiming illness, tiredness, worriedness and blueness, the joy of a hotwatcr bottle and a book has considerablv paled. \Vhat annoys me about this sort ot thing is that the people who interfere don’t r:illv care a toss. After all, there’s no particular reason why you should know what’s best for somebody else.