CHILDREN OF THE RICH

New Zealand Listener, Volume 4, Issue 94, 10 April 1941, Page 43

CHILDREN OF THE RICH

(Written for "The Listener" by

WANDA

HALL

DDIE’S father came home RB every two or three weeks to give mother the maintenance. The children, theré were eight of them, loved his visits. He would turn the backyard into a bomber or a racing car, and girls and boys alike into daredevil pilots, or tell them wonderful stories of his own exploits at "the works," of how he stood up to the boss, "I told him straight I did, and he hadn’t a word to say." Seven-year-old Eddie couldn’t understand why Dad didn’t live with them always, and when John and James from the house opposite asked why he hadn’t got a father, he found it easiest to say that his father was dead. Eddie used to go quite often to play with them. They had a room specially to play in and a big fire when it was cold, besides lots of toys and books, so it was a pity that they should be coming back from a

walk with their mother one Saturday afternoon just as he and the rest were seeing Dad off. He watched them coming, hanging back, hoping they wouldn’t realise who. it was,, but his father turned, " Aren’t you going to say goodbye to-day, son?" "Oh, hooray, Dad!" he called, then he looked at John and James waiting for them to say something about his lie. They didn’t, they hadn’t noticed they were going past him, when suddenly it seemed to Eddie as if their trim shoes, their neat socks, their tidy well cared for heads, were shouting at him all they might have said, all the differences. Rage filled him. "My dad’s as good as theirs, anyway,’ he thought, and then he jumped on James. "I'll spoil your bloody white shirt," he shouted. and. rolled him in the mud. "Little ‘Guttersnipe," said James’s mother. "Never mind, darling, come along, we'll get you a clean shirt. Never mind Aim."