CONFUSION AT BATHS

Taranaki Daily News, 13 February 1935, Page 4

CONFUSION AT BATHS

SMALL BOYS AND SHIRTS UNIFORMITY’S GREAT DRAWBACKS. SEVERE TRIAL OF THE CUSTODIAN. RECOVERY OF THEIR PROPERTY. Learn-to-swim week is an institution of great benefit to the school children of Taranaki, but it has its minor trials. Hordes of children were present in constant relays at the New Plymouth municipal baths yesterflay, when the course of instruction began in earnest. The main impression left with an exhausted custodian at the end of the day was the appalling similarity of schoolboys’ shirts. Nearly 250 children were present for instruction and approximately half were boys. That in itself was not remarkable, but when it is remembered that a large proportion of them wore grey shirts almost identical in size and appearance, and that most of them undressed in the one large shed, the glorious confusion that occurred when it was time to dress can be imagined.

Small boys bereft of their rightful clothing, mindful of the recriminatory habits of mothers and forgetful of where they had placed their shirts, hunted feverishly among a sea of grey for the one important garment, and finally in despair rushed to the custodian. He, poor fellow, with a resigned air, had perforce to accept a task a postal official would not have envied.

One youth bewailed the absence of a shirt above'the average—it had a badge on the pocket. So the custodian left his office on an exploration tour. While he was away the missing shirt appeared, with its wearer moving towards the exit. “Hey,” said the man deputising in the office, but at the same moment the wearer felt the strange appendage on his shirt pocket and ejaculated “Hey” also. “This isn’t my shirt,” he added and the attendant supported his statement. So the erring one retraced his steps to the dressing room, where the distracted owner set eyes on the beloved badge. He made a bee line for the owner and cried in tones of accusation but relief, “You ve got my shirt.” Many were the trials of the grey shirt brigade, but one at least did not draw the colour-line. He was a boy not eashy ruffled, and when he could not find his rightful shirt he calmly donned a blue one. “It fits, anyhow,” he said. It was a very relieved caretaker who saw the last of his trials depart, and he relieved his feelings still further .to a News representative last night. Ido wish,” said he, “that New Plymouth mothers would put names on all those shirts.”