THREE LANDLADIES

New Zealand Listener, Volume 15, Issue 388, 29 November 1946, Page 18

THREE LANDLADIES

(Written for "The Listener" by

JOHN

BUCKLEY

NE often reads of the misdoings of the boardinghouse keepers of our cities -and particularly of Wellington; of their rapacity, their tricks, their extortionate treatment of inmates, the disgraceful condition of their premises, and so on. I would like to put on record somewhere my testimony to the contrary. I came to Wellington after leaving school to purstie my studies at the University. It is a good many years ago now. My parents had no money and I had less.. For five years I made my home in boarding-houses-three in all. They were not specially selected, for at the time board was hard to get. In each case the number of boarders varied between 6 and 10. They were all in the central, heavily-rated, high rent area. bg By x

HE first place was kept by an Irish Catholic lady; dead now, God rest her. I never knew her out of sorts or illnatured or to say a bitter word of anybody. She had come to New

Zealand as a girl and if ever she showed anything approaching a trace of sadness it was when she spoke of the "throubles" of her distressful country. I never knew her call them anything harsher. She spent her life cooking at a gas stove. And what meals she cooked, and we ate. Breakfast (for her) lasted two hoursporridge followed by sausages, bacon and eggs or chops. It started when the factory workers came down before 7 and finished with the commercial men leaving at 8.45. Lunch took an hour and the three-course dinner at night a good deal longer because we were all young, hilarious, inconsiderate, and some of us fond of beer. Also the University students arrived after 7 p.m. I do not recollect anyone failing to get a hot meal right on time. And our youthful arrogance resembled that of Louis XIV who remarked to a courtier who arrived with exact punctuality for an audience, "You have just missed keeping me waiting." In addition to preparing these.meals she had to keep the rambling old house spotless (and she did) to attend to tradesmen, comply with numerous and unreasonable requests, settle quarrels (most of us shared rooms) and keep some sort of accounts to show how much she lost per annum. She had one helper and we all paid 30/- per week. It is proper to add that board was not always regularly paid. None of us had any: money and some were as reluctant to pay as a newsboy to reach for change of threepence. Sometimes a young fellow came home drunk and occasionally was a nuisance. If the offence was a rare one it was ignored and tactfully forgotten, I remem-. ber that such a one would even be

quietly defended. If fellow boarders wete annoyed or awakened and later on complained publicly the old lady used, to say, "It’s a poor heart that never rejoices." But good order was kept, chiefly by the unobtrusive exercise of (I suppose I'll have to use the word) ."personality." Nor was this the end of the landlady’s work, You will remember I mentioned she was a Catholic. One or two of her boarders were too, and with quiet perseverance, but mainly by unconscious good example, she saw to it they remained so, One of them was rather lax (he was later to become a brilliant history student) and I well recall her dusting his bookcase one day and looking at William Cobbett’s "History of the Reformation" while she shook her head sorrowfully and remarked, "Ah, it’s all this book learning!" * * *

Y next digs were more pretentious. Snobbery led me to a better neighbourhood. The landlady was a good New. Zealander: that is to say she worked hard (no help at all), kept

six boarders at 30/- per week, provided good meals, kept the place spotless, restrained the quarrelsome, subdued the drinkers and just managed to keep herself out of debt. -She was of Norwegian descent, attractive, had a quiet dignity and a sense of humour; the latter being very necessary to take care of the self-importance of the student boarders. On one occasion a relative, who was visiting New Zealand as mate on a Norwegian ship, rang and asked her to go and see over the vessel. She enquired at the gangway for Mr. Larsen (let’s call him) and _ the sailor said, "He’s forward, Ma’am." She said, "That doesn’t matter, I’m used to University students." a a %

LEFT there to join some friends who lived at digs in another part of the town. We had tastes in common, chiefly football. and other sports and poker and picking doubles. Now

picking doubles (or singles for that matter) is a singularly unproductive occupation, but I daresay it’s as well for every young man to get it over early. Poker is different. It is the most difficult and most interesting (and most dangerous) of all card games. The lady of the house, observing my clumsiness, taught me how to play. Women who play poker generally play it very well. I won't attempt to be so ungallant as to say why. We played cards (continued on next page)

(continued from previous page) oftener than a certain weekly paper uses the word "alleged" and the mistress of the house presided, Let me hasten to add : she was as hard a worker and as good a housekeeper as her predecessors, [n addition she was an adviser in business affairs, a good friend in need and as happy and cheerful a body as ever you'd see. She no doubt had her worries, but for all you saw of them they might have been as mythical as the technical majority at certain European elections. Well-nourished and cared for and thus equipped by five years of tutelage under these. ladies (in loco parentis), I. was launched to face this "busie watchful and suspicious worlde"; with what success I permit only my friends to say. One can’t, of course, be good at everything.