No Tripe!
N those early days there was nothing I liked better than to answer the doorbell when I heard it ringing. The fisherman, the coalman, the milkman, the gasman, even the onion man, were all friends of mine. The onion man, by the way, was only a bird of passage as he used to come over from France and. sell strings of Spanish onions from door to door during the season. We got on fairly well together, as by this time I could speak three or four short sentences in very poor French. Then one day, a new man came to the door and wanted to know if we wanted any tripe. He was carrying a few long wooden skewers in his hand
and impailed on them were square pieces of tripe. It looked such cold, anaemic, and uninteresting stuff that-I got somebody else to deal with the tripe merchant, While the bargaining was going on I looked out of the window and found a cat disporting itself on the hand cart, helping itself to a free meal of tripe. That settled it! I instinctively took a dislike to what I believe is a most palatable food. Many a time I have been coaxed to sample it, but ng-I shall go tripeless to my grave, and doubtless having missed one of the good things of life.-(" Just Growing Older." Major F. H. Lampen, 2YA, March 12.)
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New Zealand Listener, Volume 6, Issue 144, 27 March 1942, Page 3
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237No Tripe! New Zealand Listener, Volume 6, Issue 144, 27 March 1942, Page 3
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Copyright in the work University Entrance by Janet Frame (credited as J.F., 22 March 1946, page 18), is owned by the Janet Frame Literary Trust. The National Library has been granted permission to digitise this article and make it available online as part of this digitised version of the New Zealand Listener. You can search, browse, and print this article for research and personal study only. Permission must be obtained from the Janet Frame Literary Trust for any other use.
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