Mundane Musings

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 230, 17 December 1927, Page 18

Mundane Musings

The Cup That Cheers — Perhaps (Written for THE SUN.J Tea for two! Sounds romantic doesn't it? But tea for two can be the most enthralling - , and the most appalling institution. Of course, sitting opposite George (wearing your very best dress, your very best shoes with the scandalous heels, your hair just right, and last, but by no means least, your very best hat with that delicious, extravagant rose —which cost you ten and sixpence, and no lunches for a week—tucked in the most alluring position) you feel that earth is a paradise for two, and no one else : counts or is even noticed. Throngs of people may pass you, and count as nothing; their troubles, trials, happi- ! ness or other emotions rouse not your i interest one jot . . . That's the romantic « tea for two! How about the unromantic tea for two! What of the boring, deadly tea for two, when that inane curate calls at 3 p.m. and catches you at home on an “off day”? Madly you cut bread and butter, slice up cake, and make dainty sandwiches in the vain hope of filling up his cavernous maw. You know you’ll have to sit and listen to his stupid, banal remarks, ghastly 'jokes, pointless puns, and all the latest news of that “Miss Blank.” How he’ll tell you that some day (Heaven forbid it) lie hopes to be the proud possessor of a Mrs. Curate, making senseless goo-goo eyes the while. And, how the bread and butter, cakes and sandwiches disappear down his ravenous gullet! When you have taken, and shaken, his limp and fishy paw at parting, you fervently hope that some cyclonic storm will mercifully meet and take him up aloft, deposit him, goo-goo eyes and all, on a nice damp cloud and weigh him down with a harp and halo so that he won’t fall off.

. . . That’s one instance of a tea for two which I don’t appreciate. Another is when Aunt Kate calls. Aunt Kate needs very little introduction. The poor dear is bound to be as deaf as a post (and won’t admit it). She’s very dogmatic . . . very dogmatic. And if you don’t agree with her, she takes no pains to hide the place you are destined to reach for daring to differ. Having never been “loved for herself alone,” she damns all men, and your angelic George in particular. She prophesies an awful end for you when married to that - “brute.” Then she goes away and leaves you hanging by a thread to what brains you do possess (if any!) “Thank goodness she’s gone,” is your ungrateful remark to Aunt Kate’s back just passing through the garden gate. But I could go on and on about these teas for two, but just before I force myself to stop shall I tell you my favourite tea for two? It’s when I’ve had a tiff with George, and, of course, we’ve “parted for ever” (in capital letters and exclamation marks thereafter) and he comes round to see me and says nonchalantly: “I wondered if I’d catch you in, old dear.” And then . . . Oh! he really is an awful brute! Nevertheless, that’s my favourite tea for two. DOROTHY LITTLE.

NELSON PIONEER DEAD MRS. JANE JACOBSEN A pioneer settler of Nelson, Mrs. Jane Jacobsen, died at her home at St. Heliers Bay on Thursday at the age of 91. Born at Watford, England, Mrs. Jacobsen came to New Zealand with her parents in the ship Bombay and landed at Nelson in 1842. Later she came to Auckland in a small cutter, the voyage lasting 12 days. After seven years she returned to Nelson. In 1857 she married the late Captain Henry Jacobsen, who was well-known as master of vessels trading in and about Cook Strait. About 38 years ago Captain Jacobsen retired from the sea and brought his wife and family to Auckland. For a time they lived near the Manukau Harbour and then settled at St. Heliers, where the captain died 13 years ago. Mrs. Jacobsen is survived by four daughters, 11 grandchildren and five great-grandchildren. The interment took place at Purewa Cemetery yesterday. BIRTHDAY PARTY

Mrs. W. Wilcox, of Pukemiro, gave a charming little party last Saturday afternoon in honour of the eleventh birthday of her youngest daughter, Joyce, whose young friends enjoyed themselves immensely. The tea tables were decorated with sweet peas and Iceland poppies. Miss Joyce received her guests in a dainty frock of cornflower blue silk. Those present were:—Misses Mary Bateson, Mary Clare, Maggie Clare, Jean Clay, Kathleen O’Connor, Myrtle Kennedy, Ada Hodge, Gwen Soar, Betty Soar, Irene Simpson, Doris Simpson, Bessie Seddon, Margaret Whyte, George Clay, Willie Dunn, Reggie Jobes, Brian Kelly, Jim Kelly, Pat Kelly, Richard Soar, Leonard Simpson.