"A SHEEP IN WOLF'S SHORT STORY CLOTHING"

Auckland Star, Volume LXXI, Issue 216, 11 September 1940, Page 15

"A SHEEP IN WOLF'S SHORT STORY CLOTHING"

By LESLIE E. GILLMAN

TJENRY SIMPSON was getting rather fed up with his wife. Not that Susan wasn't, a good wife —as wives go —but just lately she had been slowly but surely getting the upper hand at home. It hadn't always been that way. Henry had started off as an unchallenged master of tlie household. Susan had hung on his ; .'very word. He .had worn the trousers and kept a linn hold on the purse strings. And rightly so, I say, as one married man to another. What's that? You aren't married, sir! Pardon inc. The expression 011 your, face, you' know. Oh, just backed live losers, have you ? .

Gradually Henry had slipped off his pedestal. Tlie turning point in his lost prestige could be traced back to the day when Susan joined the Feminine Unity League. An organist preaching the preposterous principle of equal rights for women. The F.U.L. had---put ideas into -Susan's head. From an occasional polite request, "would you mind helping'me with the dishes, dear?" it .had got. to a peremptory, "Haven't you wiped those dishes yet, 'Henry." Where, formerly, Susan* had merely wheedled, alio now commanded. It made Henry mad.

Well, Henry just wasn't going to stand for it. Why, in a year or two lie'd be like that little squirt next door, Meakcn, who couldn't call his soul his own. Horace was "something in the City," but" absolutely nothing at. home. He was never seen indoors without an apron, or outdoors without""a shopping bag. Meakincwas rated a poor fourth in a household consisting of Mrs. Meakin, a Pekingese, a parrot and himself. The dog sneered a± liim, the parrot mimicked, his thin, plaintive voice, and his wife, in moments of afrsentinindness, -was apt to approach him with the dog's collar in her hand.

Now Henry; saw the red light. He was going to put things right, this very instant, too. Henry threw down the dish cloth* much as knights of old threw down their gauntlets, and marched into the sitting room -where Susan was knitting. His wife looked up.

"Finished tlie dishes already. Henry?" she asked.

"No, I haven't/' said Henry, with determination that didn't quite ring true. "And I don't intend finishing them. I'm fed up with wiping dishes, it's a woman's job. I'm putting my foot- down!"

And Henry did, smashing the needles which Susan, had dropped to the floor in surprise. This undermined his confidence, already somewhat shaky. Susan looked up with a deliberate manner.

"Henry," she began slowly, "do you realise that I've been on my feet all day? I suppose you haven't noticcd that the curtains have 'been washed and ironed? That the hall "was scrubbed and polished? That—(Susan couldn't think of anything else for the moment, so she produced a handkerchief and sniffed into it). Don't you think Vm a good wife, Henry?"

Henry fumbled -with his collar. "Yes, Susan, of course. But. . .

"How can you say things like that to me?" broke in Susan. "Anybody would think I left you all the housework to do. Perhaps you're sorry yon ever "larricd. me. Perhaps you'd be hapr jt if I left you. Would you, HmryJ Because if you feel like that I'll go to-morrow." The sniffs grew louder and quicker. Henry shifted on his feet, kicking the stitches off the needles. "I only said I . . ." he began. "That's just it, Henry. It isn't just what you said that hurts, it's knowing that you begrudge doing a few odd jobs to help me now and again. Maybe you'd prefer a woman like Mrs. Meakin, next door, for a* wife."

Henry shuddered. "It isn't really that I mind helping you, Susan. It's that just lately you seem to —er —" Henry fumbled for words.

Susan saw her opportunity and a tear sprinkled down her face. Henry was •beaten.. Licked. Henry the rebel didn'

quite fit. He spent a couple of hours pacifying Susan, then returned to do his dishes.

For weeks Henry pondered over his problem. Direct attack was out of the question. A single tear from Susan, and lie. hoisted the white flag. It lmd to be something more subtle than a face-to-face encounter.

Then one day Henry thought he saw the solution to Ins troubles, in the form of ail advertisement which ran: "Have You An Inferiority Complex? Do You Lack Personality? Are You A Back Number? Don't Be An Also : Ran In The Life Stakes. Let Us Develop Your Will Power. Let Us Show You The Way To Attain That Self-Confidenee. Tell Us Your Problem. And Post Coupon Below To The School of Self-Confidencc."

Henry wrote off at once. He used an accommodation address, for Susan was inquisitive about his letters. A few days later lie received the reply. The School Of Self-Confidence was sure it could help Henry, for a trifling sum. Henry enrolled.

Henry studied the first lesson with diligence. It contained chapters on topics such as: "Lost Confidence—lts Cause and Remedy. How. To Increase Will Power, Asserting Yourself In A Crowd." Henry read, marked, and inwardly digested (when Susan wasn't about), and practised short speeches in front of the mirror, as the school suggested.

When lie had received six lessons, Henry decided to experiment. Theoretically, ho felt a 100 per cent stronger. In practice? Well, he'd put himself to the test. He chose a Wednesday evening for the experiment. He usually cleaned the silver on Wednesdays, but this evening he made no attempt to start. Susan soon reminded him.

"Hadn't you Letter start on the silver, Henry?"

"Mo, dear," said Henry, with an air of nonchalance. "As a matter of fact, I thought I'd pop down to the local for a game of darts to-night." Susan looked, up sharply. "You're not going out to-night, Henry," she said firmly. "You get on with that silver. To-morrow you'll be busy whitewashing the kitchen." "But hang it all, Susan," ho expostulated, "a man needs some . . ." "I'm not going to argue, Henry. I've a frightful headache. Please do as I aek." Henry, desperate, tried wheedling, ignoring the basic principles of the school, but to no avail. Susan stood firm. Henry took the remaining ten lessons to "complete the course. Still he had to admit defeat by Susan. Susan, in fact, seemed to go from strength to strength, as though she had been taking a special course on how to counter self-confidence. He wrote to the principal of the school. In a sharp letter (Henry's confidence 'had improved no end with the pen), he said he was extremely disappointed with the results of the course. Back came the reply that in certain cases it was found that oral tuition was highly successful. Would he like a friendly chat with the principal to discuss the matter? Henry wrote and made an appointment. Henry was extremely nervous as he attended the school for his interview, and heartily regretted the tone of his letter. Ho knocked timidly on the door of the offices. After a few minutes, he was answered by an office boy who fairly oozed self-confidence.

"What do you -want?" said the boy. "I've ati appointment with the principal," said Henry, almost apologetically. "Hold ail a second, I'll see if the Old Man will see you," said the boy. He disappeared into an inner office, then beckoned Henry.

Henry braced himself, and prepared •to meet the man who had set so many fortunate pupils on the road to success. He went inside.

"Good morning, sir," he began—then gasped at> he saw the little man seated at the desk-

"Good gracious!" said Mr. Meakin, principal of the School of SelfConfidence.