THE WINTER SHOW PARTY

Waikato Times, Volume 124, Issue 20821, 3 June 1939, Page 21 (Supplement)

THE WINTER SHOW PARTY

“ ,(")H, dear,” murmured the frying pan as the cook plopped the fifth chop that evening into boiling fat. “ Why is it I am always busy when I should be preparing for the Show? ” “ You needn't grumble,” replied the kettle. “Look at me I Boiling all the evening, never known such a bothersome time before.” ” Nobody has to work as hard as 1 this evening,” wept the old enamel saucepan bitterly. “ Cook has made Irish stew, complete with dumplings, roly-poly puddings, suet—” “ Hush! ” whispered the open range, “you are all very impatient indeed; you have been kindly invited by my cousin, the electric range, to see the Show to-night. Now when I was your age—” The utensils did not wait to hear any more, for they knew the open range was a great moralist, but they maintained their bitter thoughts in silence. Although this disturbing element had now ceased, the quiteness of the kitchen had not lasted for many minutes, when a smothered sigh was heard from the depths of the flour bin. “ Lor’, if she ain't going to be amaking pasty all the night,” muttered the voice, evidently belonging to the sigh. The flour never had been well educated and, as she had told the rolling pin that morning: “Never had been a gal for gadding round town, having been born in a little country mill, among the corn husks. Although the disguested Baking Powder had taught her the “verb to rise” she was “too fed” up to take trouble this evening. The best bedroom was all upside down. “Visitors! Never seen the likes before,” every article would tell you. “Travellers, all with suit cases; must have clothes tidy, hang all clothes in my cupboard, opening and shutting me all the time until I thought my back would break! ” spluttered -the enraged wardrobe. Although no one ever took any notice or listened to this rowdy article, he still went on chattering as furiously as ever. The only peaceful object in the room was a small mirror-backed brush. She had been used all day, her bristles were limp, her back was tired through being gazed upon, still she was now peacefully sleeping, as host, hostess, and guests, were all at dinner. Half-past seven! Every object was in a flutter; dishes had been done and everyone settled around the cosy Are, its warm rosy glow throwing a soft light on everything and keeping everyone in a good humour. Now was the lime for the ultensils, furniture, dressing table accessories to prepare for the great event. The frying pan was rubbing herself shiny with the latest paper. The kettle was washing herself with Solvol, and the saucepan was adding the finishing touches under the supervision of the open range. The flour was being dabbed with water by the baking powder, who was, at the same time, giving

strict instructions in the “verb to rise.” The wardrobe was blustering how finely his carving shone. A pair of scissors was balancing himself on one shiny leg, on the edge of the dresser, while the small mirror-backed brush shone and glistened more than ever 4 before. Eight o’clock struck. What a flutter. The new Electrolux slid up the stairs, to the room containing the sight-seers.

‘‘AIJ ready? ” gasped the Electrolux as he* entered the ro6m. “ Motor Lawn Mower at the door.**

What a buzz! The adrssors Jumped off the dresser in such a hurry that he tore a great Jagged rent in the satin bed-canopy, but having no time to bother about such details as this, he at once led the way down the stairs. Closely following came the brush, Jigging about enough to alarm the mirror in the back of the adventurous little brush. After these two came all the other furniture. On the ground floor they were met by all the kitchen utensils, the Baking Powder leading the way.

At the door they were met by a large green Motor Lawn Mower and were asked to get into the grass-catcher. The larger and more dignified objects reclined in the grassy depths; the more boisterous objects seating themselves outside. Thus they started their Journey. On arriving at their destination what a glorious sight they beheld. Coloured light everywhere; dazzling colours and crowds of people were all they saw outside, but the kettle told them thai the INSIDE was absolutely rapturous. Suddenly they remembered they had no money; but the door-keeper let them through as he mistook them for articles off the Show -stands. Once inside the door they all scuttled off to various entertainments. The cutler* at once went off to the nickle-ware display; the furniture went to see if the modern cabinets were superior to themselves; the scissors darted off to tlie dance hall to learn new dancing steps; the frying pan marched to the grilling department, while the baking powder and the flour were thoroughly interested in the cookery' exhibits. Alas, so interesting was everything that the utensils quite forgot to watch the clock, and when at last they had assembled to return home they found the door was shut. Back at the house everyone was seeking high and low for the truants. Everything was upside down, the servants being blamed for negligence. Next day when the Show was again opened a bedraggled line of utensils crept slowly out into the daylight, and home', where, one by one they returned stealthily to their places. More than once that afternoon a smothered giggle came from the depths of the flour bin as cook was heard, again and again to exclaim: “ Bless me if that ain’t ANOTHER of them turned up! 1 ” —By Margaret Brooke, (12)