The Letters of Annabel Lee

Radio Record, Volume I, Issue 13, 14 October 1927, Page 6

The Letters of Annabel Lee

My Dear Elisabeth — "Manners makyth man" is as true now as ever it was. There are those who quarrel with their fate, and one such we encountered yesterday in a city tea-room. We had been buying the trousseau-of Susette, who is in all circumstances, as you know, a genile soul. But even she was ruffled. Our utgenial Hebe stood and glowered at us from under her black, black hair. We requested oyster patties, and without comment or apology she hurled ham sandwiches before us. After that she left us in the lurch for quarter of an hour or so, finally rounding up this pleasant repast with lukewarm tea, when we asked for coffec. There is no redress for this kind of rudeness, but I would commend to these resentful damsels the quaint and wise old saw, "There is no office in this needful world, but dignifies the doer if done well." Which reminds me of my latest domestic find, Emma Jane, who comes in by the day, looks after me-body, soul, and spirit-refusing to allow me to soil my lily-like hands; and wields cedar mop, vacuum cleaner, and other cute devices with efficiency and clamour. She approves of my clothes, my moralseverything but my looks. Yestreen she surveyed my not too chesty form with a kindly ginilet eye. "Hev ve consumption in your femily, me gerrl?" she asked, in her democratic way, and obviously doubted my hasty disavowal. For useful information on How to be Ilealthy and Happy and Wise, commend me to the recent ‘lecture of @ psycho physical culturist. This lady radiated energy, assurance, purpose. Forceful were her words, positive her theories, graceful her pose, as she held forth to an adoring audience. She advised us never to ignore the great law of compensation; also to gct in touch with the Universal Spirit, this desirable end being achieved mainly, it would seem, by deep breathing through the solar plexus. We would be all right in body and mind if we allied to these plenty of God’s good sunshine (preferably on the soles of our feet), cold water liberally dashed on our shrinking forms, oranges and lemons galore. "To think," declaimed the lady, dramatically,

"that there exist those who allow days to go by without purchasing an orange!" I reflected guiltily that I had not bought one for many a moon, in fact not since I read a Walpole thriller of a red-haired murderous monomaniac who reeked of the odour of oranges. A wvoluble and cheery lecturer this, with an Arcadian tale to tell of summer camps, hygienic laws, and virtuous thinking. There’s nothing new under the sun, of course, and we'd heard it all hefore; but ’twas none the worse of that, judging by the way the audience mopped tt up. Richard tells me his Aunt Griselda ‘who intends leaving him her money) announced by last mail that she has acquired a radio set, and a portable one at that! The wery latest, most expensive make! Think of the dear Victorian lady, in her home in a@ quiet LEnglish backwater, toddling upstairs to the music of Madrid, and going forth to her daily drive with the world’s wonder of wireless tucked under her arm. shouldn't wonder if she associates it with the powers of darkness, but she is enchanted with it, nevertheless. For my part, I envy no one who gets in touch with Europe, though I don’t deny it would be fascinating; but meantime I am happy in my lot with my little crystal set, listening with delight to my favourites-amongst whom soon will be the Ellwood Trio. Being such an out-and-out Imperialist, you would love Kirkcaldie’'s window. It" is an encouragement of trade within the Empire, and is by way of being a paean of "praise for those who live and work under the British flag. In the middle stands Britannia the Beautiful, silken strands binding her to the New Zealand poster, which portrays our butter, cheese, apples, a@ row of succulent little piglets and leagy lambs, gambolling on a green sward. Below is a picture of a desirable rug, made from the wool of the frisker when he grows up. On the other side of the helmeted lady a poster exhibits something of what Old England can do in the way of the manufacture of cotton goods, pottery, motor-cars, and what-not. In a shop in Willis Street I notice they are starring "Mary's Boxes.’ So

nice, so useful, ranging in size from the | dressing-table variety ta quite large ones for slippers and jumpers, and in price from half a@ crown to four guineas. Octagonal, round, and oblong in shape, they are quite substantial and extremely decorative; the colour design -effective ow a background of black or dull gold. Susette picked a huge glory box, with a flight of blue birds and the apples of Eden rioting upon it, which struck me as appropriate for a bride. Into it will go so easily her gadgets of silk and muslin and lace; also several of the slinky jumper suits she favours. She has some lovely oncs, but my pick was of blue crepe de chine, from -- Smith’s, with pleated skirt, the top part a contrast of multi-coloured stripes of the round-and-round kind, which will look infinitely smart on Suczette’s lovely slimness. By the way, don’t forget to order a navy blue walking suit, with bits and pieces of gunmetal grey, and stockings of the same dim hue, as this is to be the well-dressed woman's standby this season. A young friend of mine, of the fair and fluffy kind, when walking abroad with her Orlando of the moment, clasps under her thin arm what is apparently a teddy bear, but in reality it is a quite serviceable handbag. Sometimes the bag takes the shape of a bunny or a Persian cat, and it is a flapperish fad, to be avoided by the Not So Young, like many another fancy of fashion, more particularly the too, too brief skirt, which does not look its best on elderly legs. . Isn’t it strange how the holiday feeling creeps upon us unaware, or a sudden, in the twinkling of an eye? Into the dusty town comes a rustle, a whisper, and we begin to look out our submerged suit-cases. Yestreen I met some migrants from the south, bound for the Hot Lakes, because the winter is over; and a leading society hostess here has led the van of summer trippers by seeking the green peace of Waikanae. Seaside hotels are brisking up the cuisine and staff, and we shall.soon all be on the move, even if it’s only for a week-end at one of the bays.

ANNABEL

LEE