NATURALNESS.

Rotorua Morning Post, Volume 2, Issue 265, 2 July 1932, Page 6

NATURALNESS.

EUPHEMIA.

Sir,— In your issue of Thursday, ' June 30, an article appeared over the signature of Mary-Anne, expressing what I believed at first sight to be most channing and wise opxnions about "Naturalness." But as one woman to another, I want to implore Mary-Anne to think a little more deeply before she handles what, on the surface, appears to be perfectly harmless subjects. She must remember that there dwell among us fustian souls who are incapable of appreciating the poetic beauty of the lesson ' which she wishes to convey. There has been a man named Stubbs wi'iting articles to your paper regarding the failure of civilisation and pointing out the beautiful, natural life led by savage races and our ancestors, who were satisfied with a one-roomed suite 1 in a cave and a weekly wash with a I handful of red clay. These ideas of | naturalness are liable to get mixed, j as I found to my sorrow — and I am ' sure Mary-Anne will be sorry, too, j when she knows what has happensd i in a hitherto peaceful and aesthetic home. Tn Ohursday morning about 6 o'clock I asked my husband to pop out of bed and get the "Post." I always j like him to read me the day's news ! before rising. It is so necessary, as I Mary-Anne will understand, to see the golf fixtures, social engagements, visitors at the Grand, bargain saies, etc., before facing the arduous duties which are forced upon married women with home resporisibilities. Well, Algernon read steadily notwithstanding complaints of the cold ' and the way he interpreted Mary- | Anne's article was most inspiring. "Is ' that not beautiful, darling," I said. "How beautiful it would be — how happy we should all be if we were only natural with each other." "Hum, yes. '.No doubt," said hubby, and snuggled down into the blankets again. I was pleased to find him such a twin

soul and felt that heaven had indeed given me my life's mate. Presently I said, "Well, dearest, don't you think you had better get up and light the fire." "Not on your life, old girl," he replied. "Do it yourself!" "Good gracious, Algernon," I almost screamed. "What an unnatural thing to ask. You know I can't stand the cold." "Neither can I," he replied, "and it is not unnatural. "It's perfectly natural, and Mary-Anne says: 'Naturalness is so rare and appeals so irresistibly to that human chord which vibrates within us all, that it will cover up a multitude of sins which the owner of such a gift might possess. It is easy enough to be artificial, in fact, it needs no effort.' It will be a Herculean effort for me to be natural, but I'll give it a go. I want to stop in bed and let you get up; it's only natural." Well, I wasn't going to have MaryAnne flung in my wifely teeth that way, so thinking to shame the brute I got out into the chilly morn and lit the fire. Would you believe it, when that man came into breakfast he kiclced the cat off the fender, pushed the baby's cradle into 'a corner, grabbed the toast I had made for myself, poured the last of the milk over his porridge and when I asked for housekeeping money he consigned the tradesmen to the devil and said he wanted the money for beer. When I uttered a few well-ehosen remarks about his inhuman personality, he merely replied: "I'm not a bit inhuman. I'm only natural and running to true form. So far as personality goes, I'm all right. It is simply that you are not attracted to me. "Anyhow," I -said, "cut a bit of wood before you go. Surely you can do that for your family." "No," he said, "cutting wood don't come natural to me. Henceforth I'm going to study personality and naturalness. Mary-Anne says 'If you come to think of it, you will find that all great personalities are extraordinarily natural men.' That's me! I'm after charm, personality and naturalness. Cutting wood is against both my better and worser nature, Well, believe me, or believe me not, I could have swooned. To think that all these years !l had been nestling a cave-man in my bosom and that it but needed the vivifying influenee of Mary-Anne's philosophy to I scratch the veneer of his civilisation. j — I am, etc.,