MERINO MOTHER.

Putaruru Press, Volume VI, Issue 246, 19 July 1928, Page 2

MERINO MOTHER.

Many mothers are so mothered by their daughters that they retire perforce into—not graceful middle-age, but actual sere and yeTow leaf. We have all met the type of -so-called dutiful daughter who is over-anxious, over-solicitous, who takes to herself all the rights of service, and patronises and- coddles, tierl parents, and who then goes about a self-constituted martyr to her own duties. Too many daughters acquire the idea 'that because mother is on the other side of 60 she must always wear gowns n of sober c,ut and sqmbre colour, must eat only such food as is “good for her. digestion,” and must find her only distra9tion in a little mild bridge and crochet work. When mother goes to buy a new hat and hankers longingly for one of a rich wine colour, she is promptly told by her daughter that it is far too youthful for her. It is the same thing with her gowns. Black again is the only perhlissible colour. No matter how much mother might prefer a change —say, one of the new soft raisin shades, dull blues or deep amethysts —her girls decide for her that “black is best.” It sounds comical, but it is a fact that a dressmaker told me quite a number of her elderly customers, when choosing a frock, will say: “Well, I should like a coloured cr.e, but I know my daughter would not let me wear it.” Or, “Yes, I quite agree with you that a skirt a little | shorter would be smarter and more l comfortable to walk in, but my son ! does not like me to: have my skirts | any shorter than I am -in the habit of ; wearing, so I suppose that this one will have to be usual length, piease.”

It is the same in the house. Mother is quite fit and anxious to do her own cooking, but the reins seem somehow to have been taken from her hands into those of her capable daughters, who “wish to spare her any trouble,” and who, in consequence, only succeed in making her life dull and miserable. Any offer on her part to make a batch of scones or a cake cf gingerbread is sure to be met with: “Oh, no, mother dear, it would just tire you out. You go and lie down for a little and rest.” .When mother is invited out fer the evening, it is quite on the cards that the daughter who answers the ’nbri-r. will say to the hostess: ‘How kind it is of you to ask mother out to-mcr-row night. No, I have not given her your invitation. You see, she has a slight cold, and it is a pity she should be tempted to go out at rdght. Jenny or I will come in her place if you like.”

When holiday time comes round her I affectionate daughters again take j matters in their own hands. Although 1 mother lives in a sleepy little back

town all the year round, and would ! dearly love some gaiety, she is an- ( nually transplanted irffo the depths iof the country, where her choice of I amusements amounts to taking short | strolls along the dusty high road, or | sitting amongst the gooseberry burh- ■ es in the back garden. 1 Most people imagine that elderly people want always quiet and rest. But there are many who like movement and brightness arounjd them much more than scenery. The small j country village or little seaside re- | sort seems to them only suitable for lively young people who can move here and there, and make their own amusement. As an old lady remarked to me last year, what she really would enjoy would be a little trip abroad, but her daughters would not hear of it. Another lady, verging on 80, defied her affectionate daughters, declining absolutely to go to a little seaside village to stay with intimate friends, on the ground that it would be quite time enough for her to do these things when she was “an old woman.”—Glasgow Weekly Herald.