“BUTTERED SIDE DOWN”

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 852, 21 December 1929, Page 25

“BUTTERED SIDE DOWN”

What malicious twist in the force of gravity always causes a piece of bread and butter to fall buttered side down on the drawing-room carpet, or your new crepe de chine dress? And why is it always on your way out to dine with your best young man that your stocking elects to spring a ladder —never on your way home, when it doesn’t matter? And, of course, it’s on Mrs. Brown’s doorstep that the buttons fly off your gloves with a malicious tinkle, or split with a popping sound—never on your own doorstep, when you still have time to get another pair! And why is it always when you are in a hurry to get out a clean handkerchief, that the drawer sticks obstinately, and flatly refuses to open or shut, however much you pull? Why is it that, at the last moment, some aggravating trifle always goes wrong? And those new people who’ve taken the corner house never call when cook has just made a coffee cake, and you have had your hair waved, but always choose the day that is Mary’s afternoon out, and there’s only a very stale piece of seed cake for tea, and you’ve covered your hair with oil preparatory to washing it! And why is it you’re never caught in a shower without an umbrella, in last year’s hat and the coat and skirt you were thinking of sending to the jumble sale, but always when you’re wearing the new lovebird green hat and the. printed chiffon that shows every m'ark? In fact, why is it that things always fall “buttered side down”?