SUGAR DAY

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 79, 27 December 1917, Page 2

SUGAR DAY

A WAR-TIME SCENE IN LONDON. "Before tiiis ole war began, wo could get every think we wanted from tho shop, and no interference. But now, not even our preservin' pan is our own to do what wo likes wi'." "Aye, an' Guv'ment takes no heed o' Saturday momiii' neither, and sends the sugar for the busiest nioniin' o' the wholo [ week, house-oloanin', harvest, an' all." "An' this Saturday the last day o' my boy's 'leave,' an 1 I can't 'ardly bear 'im out o' my sight to go a-pottorin' after sugar." These- and similar sayings came from a crowd of country housewives (with here and thoro an aged man or a young child) gathering excitedly and in unaccustomed fashion early ono September morning at the village sclioolhouse door. It was Sugar Day for small fruit-growers. A village representative appointed by the„Hortieultural sub-Committee of the W'l; Agriculture Committee of the Board of Agriculture (nevertheless a very modest and harmless little lady with a pleasant manner, a head for figures, and an intimate acquaintance with village domesticities) had received applications for the purchase of sugar for jam-mak-ing from residents in tho parish. Theso had to testify that the fruit to be used was grown in orchards or gardens owned or rented by them—or was '" 'ome-grown" as nearly everyone called it, or "next door to 'ome-grown" in one case. No ono blamed Mrs. X., the representative, for interpreting "Guv'ment" instructions rather freely, or grudged "010 Widder Jarman, as lost 'or two sons at Vimy," her halfetorjo of sugar for fruit grown and given her by her next-door neighbour.

So now these applicants waited patiently till the schoolhouse door should be opened. Gossip and banter were not wanting, to pass tho time, for if they were obliged to take a Saturday morning "off" they might as well resign themselves to some social enjoyment of the unusual holiday. They carried enamelled cans, basins, biscuit tins, and many another sort of receptacle for tho precious sugar. The poster in the post office had announced that no paper and string would bo supplied. Promptly at ten o'olock they passed into the big schoolroom. Each received a paper from the Representative. Only one woman was turned back as not on the list of duly accredited applicants in Mrs. X.'s penny account hook. But tho errand boy from tho new suburban villa at the top end of tho main street, who brought a message that his mistress "would • settle with Mrs. X. afterwards," was told to go back to her and fetch tho money and something in which to put tho sugar.

"Just like 'er 'igh and mighty ways tor want ter he different from other folks." remarked the blacksmith's wife, flourishing a £1 Treasury note and a largo bedroom ewer in tho faco of tho "Guv'mont" representative. Tho slip of paper stated the amount of sugar asked for and tho cost. With this slip tlie bearer passed confidently on, but still in queue, to another helper at tho receipt of custom, who took tho money and marked "Paid" on tho paper. This then becamo tho passport into tho infant schoolroom, where a number of aproned weighers finished the transaction by weighing out tho sugar from "Guv'mont" 1001b. bags by means of kitchen scales lent by neighbours or largo scales hung by a ropo to a crossbeam by a friendly farmer.' But first each recipient had to sign a paper as filial testimony 'to the purpose for which the sugar was bought. Tho younger women signed on behalf of some old ladies who either were unablo or too blind to write, "Sevenpence a pounl! I reckon this 'ere sugar costs more'n than if you count the time and troublo we've had to get it." "Aye, you're roight there, and us fro' the station 'as 'ad tho wagginette to pay for ffci' all. 1 couldn't have carried 201b. four moile." "Well, we be glad to get sugar at any; price wi' plums a record crop, an' my/ master only able to swaller margailno along wi' o snack o' jam on 'is bread." So the morning sped in cheerful' monotony, only broken by such excitements as when tall and wiry Mrs. T., far down the line of waiting housetook a periscopio view of the situation, dived quietly under the school desks, and came up wriggling at the top of the queue to pay her money with guileless and unabashed countenance to the unobservant lady helper. "Go, get you back to botton end o' line for your slyness, Mts. T,," came in chorus from the indignant women.

"None o' yer submarinin'," piped the smart errand boy from the suburban villa. And now all eyes turned on a small lad issuing from die sugar room straggling under a heavy spotless white calico bag with signs in it of an imminent melodramatic burst. '"Is mother's second-best piller-slip, and she no groat mender at any time," remarked one of the aproned weighers. It was all over by one o'clock. Tho schoolhouse door closed on the last of the sugar purchasers and the helpers. The caretaker cruelly swept up into her dustpan the sugar droppings from tho infant classroom floor. The sweep, who, taken by surprise by the unexpected event of Sugar Day, had been ejected at ten o'clock by the pleasant manner of the representative, returned to tho job, which had been so obviously incompatible with tho weighing out of sugar from 1001b. "Guv'ment" bags into white enamel ware and white pil-low-cases. The representative, with a pair of kitchen scales under one arm and a heavy, bag of cash under tho other, betokening further use for her head for figures, went down the village street. One did notneod her intimate acquaintance with village domesticities to know that many a cottage mother was reconciling herself to baking and cleaning late into Saturday evoning after tho children's "tub-night" with the pleasant consciousness that a good winter jam supply was secure. Can you wonder that while in church next morning they wore singing "The earth is the Lord's, and tho fulness thereof," some absentees (including even the lady proprietress of the errand boy and the suburban villa) were boiling their jam ? "Tho Lord don't waste nothin' on earth, so why should we? An' that Guv'ment war sugar only came in the nick o'' time afore the fruit wero sp'ilin'."—Emily H. Smith, in the "Queen."