MY BOHEMIAN FRIEND.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17729, 26 December 1925, Page 4

MY BOHEMIAN FRIEND.

Sally can be the most maddening creature, someone you yearn to slap! Then philosophically, you think in a calmer moment:— “ Oh, well, it’s only Sally. She doesn’t mean it. Everyone knows it’s just her way!” , This probably, after a temperamental storm. Sally is extremely emotional, and will rage for no known reason. That our friendship has now survived ten years of ups and downs says much for my powers of meek forgiveness. Sally is one of those ruthless souls who rido rough-shod through life, and bows her head to only a few chosen mortals. I am not one of them ! She never by any chance apologises for her actions. She has her opinions, and she states them bluntly, and if you don’t like them, you needn’t stay and listen. They are opinions on all sorts of subjects, and they are given in the most ultra modern way. Little problems such as divorce, the right to love anyone, and the correct ingredients for a cocktail ! She has a husband somewhere, by the way, a nice creature. She would marry a nice man, of course! She gives hectic parties to which a great many people with well-worn and famous names congregate gleefully. She adores high-brow plays and collects the weird, the unfit, and tho mentally queer as inevitably as any magnet. She makes appointments with me, only to forget all about them. The only way to pin her down to a date is to go to her office, and stick like glue to her skirts until you’ve got her safely corked up in tbq stalls. By the way, she is an expensive person to go out with, for although -we always share fifty-fifty, she must alwa3*s have the best. She borrows my belongings, particularly pet books, and either hands them on to someone else or leaves them in a train. Time after time do I grind m3 7 teeth over her memory*, and yet she is sublimely unconscious of it all. For she never feels petty grievances against people. They can come to see her, or they* can stay away, just as they like. I have free use of her flat at any hour of the day or night, to rest or sleep. Nobody in the world can ever hope to imitate the lovely note of her voice, when she sa3 r s, “ I’d do anything in the world for a pal.” And she means it. I happen to know that she gave her new fur coat to and old school friend who was hard uo. Sally does countless goodhearted impulsive things like that. I know that if ever I went on the rocks she’d be the very first to offer sanctuary and help. She’s just the dearest and most aggravating critter in the world !