Vanity Fair

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 72, Issue 291, 7 December 1929, Page 3

Vanity Fair

P2BSONAL ADD tSOJIAL Miss Bruce Veitch accompanied her father, the Hon. W. A. Veitch, from Wellington, and is at her home in Alma Road. Mrs J. Hannah, of Wellington is the guest of Mrs Saunders, Liverpool Street. Mrs V. D. Willis leaves to-day for an extended holiday in Christchurch where she will be the guest of Mrs Cameron, Cashmere Hills. Mrs W. A. Veitch leaves this weekend for a brief visit to Rotorua, after which she will motor through to Wellington. Mrs S e P. Andrews, of Wellington, is visiting Wanganui. Mrs Wilkie and party leave tomorrow for a visit to the Chateau, Tongariro. Mrs R. Howie and Miss Molly McDonald are visiting Wellington. Mr and Mrs P. N. McDonald are spending the week-end at the Chateau Tongariro. Mrs H. Wilson and Miss Beatrice Wilson, of Kakatahi are the guests of Miss Harrison, W.icksteed Street. Air and Mrs Hackshaw leave for the Chateau Tongariro to-day. Airs Howarth has returned from a brief visit to Wellington. Airs Bishop, of Wellington, has been visiting Wanganui this week. Miss Beale has returned from a short visit to Palmerston North. Airs L Nicholls has returned from a visit to Palmerston North. Airs Ken. Wilson, Seatown, Wellington, has been visiting Wanganui and leaves for Taranaki to-day.

Miss Winifred Guy, of England, has closed her poster exhibition in Wanganui and. has gona on to New Plymouth Miss Marjory Allomes sang from 2BL, Sydney last night and will sing again on December 11. WEDDING. VOLTZ —WANSBROUGH. A very pretty wedding was solemnised at St. Mary’s Church on November 27 by Father Campbell, when David Grant, eldest son of Mr and Mrs D. Voltz, of Wanganui, and Ruby Mary, only daughter of Mr B. P. Wansbrough, also of this city, were united in the holy bond s of matrimony. The bride, who was given away by her father, wore a wedding gown of beaute satin with tight fitting bodice, long, tight fitting sleeves and tulle over skirt, softly frilled to the waist, and falling gracefully to the ankles at the back. A beautifully embroidered and arranged veil and cap, held in place with posies of orange buds on each side and a glorious sheaf of Xmas lillies, completed the picture of a very dainty bride. The chief bridesmaid, Miss Ann Voltz (sister of the bridegroom) wore a dress of soft lettuc e green georgette, with uneven hemline, and hat of lemon colour. Miss Rona Devery wore lemon georgette, also worn long and with uneven hemline and green hat. Both carried bouquets of roses to tone with their frocks, and wore the gifts of the bridegroom, pretty necklaces. Mr J. Voltz carried out the duties of best man, whilst Mr Seal acted as groomsman. After the ceremony a reception was held at the hom e of the bridegroom’s parents, where the usual toasts were honoured with enthusiasm. In the evening a jolly party was much enjoyed by the guests who wished the happy couple every happiness and prosperity.

“Chronicle” Office, December 7, 1929. Yesterday it was Margot's full intention to talk about boils; but somehow or other, probably owing to static, she got deflected. To-day, however, as in the case of the maddened cattle in "Lasca," nothing on earth will stop her flight. After all, the interests of science are the interests of science: a generation or so ago, boils were considered most indelicate, and probably, if you had casually mentioned one in a drawing room, the whole place Would have been disinfected at once, regardless of expense, after which everyone would have stood with bowed head whilst the head of the house, in a voice husky with mingled alcohol and emotion, read the service for the dying, beginning, "Cursed be he who gelteth away with his neighbour's jar of Cure-All, well-knowing that the chemists’ shops are all closed for the half holiday." But things have changed, and to-day we feel that boils are like a group by Epstein—horrid, yet somehow so true. So Margot has no scruple whatever in relating the true history of a Week in the life of a Wanganui office with which she is familiar. It started one evening when the head of the firm, safely home and bent on adjusting his tie prior to a visit to the theatre, noticed something unfamiliar in the contour of his nose. It seemed to him, somehow, a trifle more, massive, a little less delicately aquiline, than of yore. Moreover, it was not altogether comfortable. Sauntering out, with an air of nonchalance, he asked a friend, 'I say, what do you think °f my nose?” "Well,” the friend began tactfully, and then gasped. "Stand under the light,” he ordered. The head of the firm did so, and bowed his head in shame on hearing the fatal words, "Thought as much—you’ve got a boil." That was baa enough: but when the man who looks after all the machines and things (he has a pet name for every one of them, some in English and some in Australian) suddenly blossomed out with a perfect constellation of boils, the matter became serious. And when the office boy went and did likewise, but worse, it was perfectly obvious that the wrath of Heaven had, for reasons best known io itself, visited the office. Those called upon to transact business there did so hastily, and a notice was put up in.isting that if any member of the firm should see a really influential and powerful customer—the sort who wouldn’t like boils—coming in, he should flee from him at once, waving a yellow flag. Some thoughtful soul chalked up, "Bring out your dead,” on the front door, and on the fourth day the office cat oblTd by producing an ancient mouse, somewhat the worse for six weeks’ wear and tear, from a private cubbyhole previously known only to the cat. The head of the firm had it bricked up, so out of evil cometh a little good. Anyhow, Margot feels that the lime for sackcloth and incantations has arrived. For her own nose looks just a little c.b- or sub normal. Nervously, MARGOT.