“Betty and Peter"

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 150, 27 June 1931, Page 4 (Supplement)

“Betty and Peter"

Dear Childcr, There is a family who live in our tow® So happy and jolly, Their name, it is Brown. There's a dear little girl, Who is her daddy's great joy. And mummy just dotes Ou her fat, little boy. The people all say "Nq kids could be sweeter Than those two little Browns Called ‘Betty’ and 'Peter.* " Thers now, childcr, you arc properly intro* duced to Betty and Peter, but "Grandaddy’ and I have I>een looking over an old diary of ours, and we are both sure you will be interested to hear of one week's entries about these two childcr. Monday.—Washing day at most of my places uf call. The Browns had a huge washing of blankets out, and the laundresses were busy wrestling with them In the wind. As I passed the open laundry door, young Betty's voice hailed me, "They’re all on the clothes lines, Ben. Bring the letters here. I’m twamping blankets ; you come and twamp too, but you musn’t tramp my toes, will you not, Ben ?” There, sure enough, was Betty, fully-clad to her shoes, waist high in a tub of soap-sudf, which she was scattering in every direction to her heart’s delight. Enter laundress—exit Ben. Tuesday.---An English mail in. Afternoon delivery late. When I reached their villa. Mrs Brown and Betty were just going out. They did look pretty all in white. "Peter!” called his mother, “Where are you?” "I coming, mummy. 1 just been having a bath with the bantams and playing with them until you ready.” Sure enough, there emerged from the fowl run a once speckless, stiff-starched, drill-suited Peter, but now a dusty, crumpled ruin of the past. What a sport, Mrs Brown is. Did she storm, did she rage ? No. she laughed and laughed -"We're only children once. Ben.” Wednesday.—No mail for the Browns—but an afternoon one for the Whites, where Barbara, the nursemaid, answered my whistle. "Ben,” said she, "I feel like crying. There's our dear lamb shut up in the bathroom, and all because she tapped at the drawing room' door to warn her mother about the goings-on in their dressing room. "Her mother said. ‘I am surprised at my little daughter thinking I would listen to tales about her little guests. Go to the bathroom,’ and there, the dear lamb is.*’ “It is those little Brown’s. Unforeseen circumstances prevented them coming yesterday. when they were expected, so they are here now, unexpected. They have emptied master’s and mistress’ belongings in a pile on the floor, and I have just ushered them into the drawing room as I found them parading round in mistress’ French model of a hat and master’s dress shirt. Hist, Ben! I hear the door opening, and that poor lamb of ours shut up in the bathroom for carrying tales. It's a shame! So, and it is.” In your Grandaddy's writing is, “Note the unforeseen circumstances." Yes. my lad, thy name is Peter. Little lady of the bathroom, you are a brick—a heroine and martyr. Thursday.—Through blanket washing, ordinary weekly wash postponed until yesterday at the household of Brown. To-day it is “damping down” day fn their laundry, and out of doors it is raining hard. The laundry has roasting fires going, and is filled with bedding. An irate laundry maid explains that Betty and Peter have also been “damping down.” They filled their tiny watering cans nt the bath tap, and methodically and liberally “damped down” every bed in the house. Friday.—There’s a celebrated emporium just opened in our town. It even has n place for "prams" whils mothers shop. This is Jim's (Grandaddy) entry. When I reached this beehive of actiivty, an officer of the law controlled an excited crowd of matrons. Everything about the babies’ carriages had been changed around, and altered, even to the feeding bottles. A "dummy” was being rammed into an infant’s mouth, who knew it not, and with vigorous pats, a small boy and girl were trying to coax enraged babies back to slumber land. Saturday.—The wildest excitement at the Brown’s. Betty had had croup all night and now, 9 a.m., both she nnd Peter are missing. Later (Jim’s entry) : I met the big sergeant of police going back to Royal Parade. He had collected Peter in his dad's silk hat. waving the paternal umbrella at a passing tram, and with him Miss Betty, only in night attire and her mother’s bear muff and necklet. Sunday.—The lights burned late at the manse last night. Neither elders* nor parsons* hours, but the whole family, including Betty for the first time, were seated in their pew when I reached ours, nearby. With all due decorum, a black surpliced cl us y “?T the puJpit t 0 he Rreeted k ,5 U daddy, I aec you up in that box I (S-s-sh Betty). > a new mackwintosh you got on. daddy; (S-s-s-s-sh, Betty). There came a prayer. "Aha! Peter, you’re looking through your fingers." (S-s-s-sh Betty). "Why must I ‘s-s-s-sh.’ Mummy?” There came a quiet, but very decided halt, in the prayer. “Would that mother kindlv take that little girl home?” Betty was removed and a memorable service continued without further interruption. Do not get a dreadful shock, childer, but each one of these incidents is a true story about a small boy and girl, who we cal! "Betty” and "Peter,” which are only theii pen names, as is their family name of “Bro’wn.” I have asked my old comrade Jim to add his word to mine in this, and here it is:— "The Browns had their troubles Like other folks do, But they laughed at their troubles. And why should not you? Apologies if I have been too long-winded, Wendy. My respects, and Jim’s.—"BEN.”

“LITTLE LORNA DOONE.” Porewa.—How happy I am to have your welcome letter, dear. I hope you are quite well. What a joyous time you had at the ball. How nice you must have looked in your costume. You will miss grandmother now she has returned to her home. How painful your tot must be, dear. I do hope it is soor better. So awkward to wear a shoe too. How jolly that daddy ’s team won I can imagine how well pleased h< would be. —Wendy. “BROWN EYES,” Waverley.—Yes, dear, I saw the picture, and I thought it splendid. 1 must confess, though, that I was a little disappointed at not hearing the world-famous comedian speak. Was it not. funny when ho swallowed the whistle? How lovely to win the match. A good commencement. How nice to sit with a fellow Ite at school. Will you please give “Echo” my love? Yes, there are, as you say. still a few of our “Old Brigade” missing. Perhaps they will soon return, though. How lucky you are to have such a charming pet as “Bingo.” Many thanks for the coupons.—W endy.