DAD’S DINNER GOES WEST.

Waipawa Mail, Volume XXXVII, Issue 8417, 10 December 1920, Page 1 (Supplement)

DAD’S DINNER GOES WEST.

(By Harry Sefton). Before the war only a millionaire could afford to dress shabbily : to-day a seedy appearance is a luxury within tho reach of all. When we consider the sky prices of clothes and boots we ’have the consolation of knowing that as prices advanced our ideas advanced with them. We discoveied what a lot of things we could do without. And not least among the pre-war necessities we have scrapped were cur Sunday togs. Uniil quite recently the Bohemians of Chelsea were practically the only vandals who dared venture forth on the Sabbath in the easy, dusty dress of workaday. We would have felt we were violating a natural law if we went out in anything but our spruce grey, or stiff and sombre black, with our swankiest scarf and well-brushed silk hat or bowler. But in the happy Sundays of to-day, if a man has a clean collar and polished boots he is dressed. OYER-FEEDING AND GLOOM. Gone, too, is the idea that we juiu&t eat more and sleep more on Sundays. That old English horror, the bursting Sunday dinner, is a thing of the past. It used to be a fetish with housewives to make that meal a regular blow-out. Now-a-days the working man’s wife at least looks twice at her pound note before she gives it for a joint. Therefore the old man gets just a wholesome meal, and he doesn’t get indigestion. And the Army habit of early rising has killed the “ Sunday in bed” stunt. In the old days Sunday too often meant over-dressing, over-feeding, lethargy, solemnity, artificiality and gloom. Not so, now*. Sunday has become our one day off —the day upon which fe can be entirely ourselves. Clothes don’t matter ; form doesn’t matter. But living matters. And on our one dav off we live. THE SUNNY SUNDAY. Our Sunday papers are brighter than ever. Their articles are energising arid mind-tickling—for on Sunday we survey mankind from Bootle to the Bardados. We take a deep interest in our own affairs, and in those of our country and tho new world which the war has opened out to us. We have good Sunday concerts ; and ii nor theatres are not open, it is because wo do nob want them. We have a day of crowded hours. Yes; Peace lias brought a spring-time Sunday. It has not brought atheism. Only now we combine religion and a smiling face. There are brighter services in the churches. One cleric is a revolutionary apostle of the sunny Sunday. For in his church you must to absolutely natural. Cough, talk, sing or hop if you want to. You are admitted on tire condition that, while you’re in the church, you do just as you please. Carry on, parson!