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DECEMBER 19. 193i mlfiiiffiifiiggig~i€s

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' l Mrs. Battersby’s Christmas Dinner

THE CHARLOTTETOWN GUARDIAN

screws-nannies’ THE C YNI CS

By Mary Howard (author of Windlcr Skies)

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HEARING IS BELIEVING

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‘m. ever made him. Because of h’s su- periority she thought she detected in him the discomfort of his room seemed to her almost as pgthgflc as her own dinner table. In a great hurry she added a postscript to he; invitation. _

“Yvifllbe dining out with friends this evening, of course," she said, "so I ought to have asked you go lunch, I suppose. You must excuse an old fashioned old woman."

Smiling up at him with her very young eyes there was an agelessc ness, and a charm about her that she didn't suspect. When she began he was very obvious'y preparing to refuse with dign ty. Almost berm-e she had fhrshed. he was accepting with boyish zest.

"Aml—“'lly. I've had a. present! I'll bring it along if r may," he said, "From an aunt who can't believe I'm grown up—you know what all Aunts are—"

He produced his present at once to show Mrs. Battcrsby—a huge box of crackers.

“Well, there-i" she smiled at him, "and I wouldn't let myself buy any! If that isn't what I call pro- vidental-J’

Her smile lnsted her all the way down stairs, broadening as she went. She wasn't to be deceived! 0f course, just as Ted might have done he had bought them himself, his one absurd iarepuration for a Christmas feast. ‘Aunt' indeed! she knew. And her knowledge paved the way for him straight to her heart. She just didn't care whether Mr. Bnttersby minded her asking him or not.

As it turned out Mr. Battersby did not seem put out, which, in spite of hcr secret bravado, was a rclicf to Mrs. Battersby. Tall, thin, formal of manner, and very carc- fully groomed, Mr. Battcrsby had always assumed to be ‘more the gentleman’ than she, secretly again considered that his birth warrant- ed. For once in a way hm wife's guest appealed to Mr. Bnttersby. and certainly the expensive cut of his hastily donned suit and the new en- hance that superiority which Mrs. Battersby had detected at once. She hoped very much they wouldn't be treated to too much of those tiresome old politcs-

But she needn't have worried. Young Mr. Arnold, ("But you might call me Edward on Christ- mas Day, don't you think, Mrs. Bat- tcrsby?" EDWARD!) was almost more embucd with the Christmas spirit than anyone she had over met.. Even Ted could not have shown himself prepared to dodge the polities more udrotlyf, and more over, they had hardly begun, for Mr. Buttersby was a slow carver and prided himself over much on the way the bird was "left" when there W85 an interruption.

Ella!

"Mum-—Mum DARLING—!" Her arms round Mum's neck. "What do you make of it! —After my giving you and Dad up-and you can't think how I hated ltb-Marigold

had a date with one of her wretch- ed men all the time and had for- gotten to tell nae-as if she could FORGET! He's fetched her away in h's car for the rest of the day—and you won't believe me, but she hard- ly apologised. In fact. she didn't apalogise! Mum, I HAVE tried to stick to her, though this isn't the first time she's let me down, not b)‘ a long way. But its the last straw, it is really-you can't think how selflsh-"

Mrs. Battersby, with great pres. ence of mind. forbore to say: "Can't I?" 5h‘! only repeated, patting com- lQFWJlY. “There, my pretty, there, "We. you're much more than wel- come. Now, take off your coat, do, and sit down to your dinner!"

She gently entangled herself from Elias embrace that she might v find the necessary equipment for a fourth place at the fable, but she had been forestallcd. Young Mr. Arnold had dived into the kitchen, he had found cutlery, a plate, and a glass. "Now if these aren't the right ones, you must forgive me and just push on with them," he said confidently. "Because we can't have our turkey spoilt. can we, Mr. Bat- tersby?"

Mr. Battersby i said, more than once, that the turkey WAS "spoilt, yet from habit, not nastily, as Mrs, Battersby noticed. Certainly the lm ported guest had. spread a charm. And then, as Mrs. Battersby knew, she knew so many things without being told in his less demonstrative fashion Mr. Battersby shared her own weakness for Ella, who had ne- ver had her nose put out of joint by another baby. This too, may have weighed, she was so exactly what Mrs. Battersby had once been -dimplcd, dark-haired, and merry. She didn't forget that Mr. Batters- by, like not a. few du1l- husbands. had been more apt as a lover.

It may have ‘been reaction after months of represson, living with Marigold, she had her own queer charm (for a time) but certainly wasn't merry. Anyhow Ella proved as ‘Christmassy’ as anyone could wish. After all her forbodlng Mrs. Battersby thoroughly enjoyed her dinner. Ella. and lVfr. Arnold (“ED- WARD, thcnl") might have known each other for months, instead o! scarcely having been introduced, so completely didthey get on together from the first moment. The echo of their laughter. The way they "went on" would last Mrs. Battersby a twelve month of retrospect.

The glorious surprise of Ellie's turning up like that was not the only surprise that occurred either at that memorable dinner.

They had reached the stage of the almonds and raisins and crackers, indeed they were already finished off \v.th the traditional paper head dream. \,... * i opulent car drew up at the clash .. .'.:2 Lillie Road and a knock rcsounded through the house, causing Mr. Battersby to snatch off a Glengarry cup with characteristic forethought, though the others stuck to theirs bravely- a sun bonnet on Edward, a pier- roiis hat on pretty Ella, a. gold

CHRISTMAS AND OUR BRAVE SEAMEN

Season's Greetings

Christmas Tree Decorations

The decorations used on Christ- mastrees are made from various materials. The colored balls are generally made from very thin glass. ‘

crown-of all thingsl-slightly as- kew on Mum's iron gray curls.

“If that isn't my only parent now come to smother me with prickly olive branches for Christmas, I'm a Dutchman!" said Edward.

Edward was right-except about the prickles.

It came out. by degrees, that Ed- ward and his well to do only pa- fent-an even more ‘superior’ earl- ier edition of Edward to look at. — had lately quarrelled, as they also thought at the time, irrevocably, about details of Edward's career. Hence the doing for himself on a prospective income-source still unsettled- in Mrs. Battcrsbyb top

floor.

But thank goodness, as Mrs. Bat- tersby afterwards repeated many times, there is something uncanny about the Christmas spirit. You may pretend if you like to be so silly, there's nothing in it, but you can't, if you're human, get quite away from its magic. Marigold, ex- cept towards the man with whom she had that secret date, pagfbly, bad shown hereelf inhuman, (and luckily for Mrs. Battersby!) Nix. Arnold, senior. with a little push- ing from excessive loneliness and an affectionate disposition, had gl- ven way to it. Mr. Arnold was very human.

“Why, Sir, how peace making and jolly." Edward said, introducing his hosts. “You're just in time for the second round of crackers-is that right, Mrs. Battersby?"

Oh, no doubt at all that Mrs. Bat tersby enjoyed her Christmas din- ner-how could she have helped it? though it mode her. quite ashamed, secretly, of the way she had dread- ed it beforehand. Yet she was ac- tually ready for another by nine o'clock‘ln the evening. Two dinners on one Christmas Day! Such an un- usual thing had never happened before to Mrs. Batter-shy.

Not of her own cooking-though she couldn't have cooked it better! Just sitting down, the lady, in one of London's most wonderful hotels the kind Mrs. Battersby had so far only heard about, never entered. Mr. Arnold had certainly ordered dinner there for himself and Ed- ward. ("Made mighty sure of me, didn't he?” said Edward, with an indulgent smile for his only parent that enchanted Mrs. Battersby) but by no means best known to himself he extended the order to include a party of five.

Naturally. she couldn't eat much -cooking too many cknners had long ago undermined her appetite. But the music, the decorations, the dresses, and seeing so many people so happy! Mrs. Battersby would ne- ver have believed she could enjoy anything quite so much that didn't II well as Ella, include Ted.

She was also secretly proud of the way Mr. Battersby drank expensive wines, which she darerrt more than sip herself, as though cheap gro- cer's port had never been invented.

It was at the end of the evening indeed, it was nearer Boxing day morning, while Ella and Edward, with ‘no signs of tiring, were danc- ing together, their steps matching to a miracle, that Mr. Arnold, look

fng hard and meanlngly at Mrs. vBattersby, said, “You'd go a long way before you'd find a sweeter or prettier girl than your daughter.

_ M51. Batter-shy, if I may say so?"

A Christmas Short Story

Continued From Page 9

with young Jack- He's one of these modern youths~always off to the dog-races and such things. Go: no balance."

"D'you mean asked‘ his uncle.

“Don't think he's got much of that, either," said Parkinson- “He's not the saving sort. How‘ ever, here we are at George's"

The cab had stopped outside a smnll house from which emerged George, who, as it was early clos- ing day. was at home. George was 3, short man with a. drooping moustache which gave him a depressing appearance which did not represent him. Th; "Sinrting- Post" had given him a wlnncr that day and he was far from being de- pressed.

Parkinson gave him a frigid greeting and handed ovcr his uncle. Then he bade thc latter a fervid goodbye and set off for home.

Uncle Joe d’d not cltogcther enjoy his visit to George. The fellow was too much of an up-and- downer. Up one day and down the next- It all depended on the presiding genius of the “Starting- Post,” As for George, he found his uncle's deafness almost beyond his patience, _whfl:t the perpetual reminiscences of Gladstone and the Exhibition drove him at times into a frenzy.

Like Parkinson. he fell into the habit of speaking his mind to his wife in a tone which his uncle could not hear. The only (Hier-

bank balance?"

successful had been the latierb pretence of affection.

i-ie found Arthur dull in com- parison. Everyone found him dull. 1n fact he hnd been known to say that he even found himself a tri ie wo risome.

"Nothing ever seems to happen to me, except being a. foreman," he would say at times.

He was a softly spoken man and found much difficulty in making his uncle understand him. On the other hand it was unnecessary for him to lower his voice when occasionally remlrklng W118i- B- nulsance the old fellow was.

Eventually Uncle Joe passed on to the house of young Jack. ,

Jack was a cheery lad with a voice like that of the buull of Basham, a_ point which appealed strongly to Uncle Joe. He took the old man to the football matches, and joined him in an occasional glass o.’ wine. And all this without effort or art- The truth was that Jack factually liked 11's Uncle Joe, and it seemed that the feeling was mutual.

There was a son in the house- hold, n. boy of six, whom Uncle Joc occasionally found to be trying, but there was plenty to compensate for that, despite the almost devil- ish mischievousncss of the child.

It ivirs on this boy that Parkin- son Float reflected one evening. Young Jackie WRS about to have a birthday and an evil spirit entered ill;- picus bosom of Parkinson. H: started suddenly from his chn’r and put on his hat.

"I'm going to buy a birthday

uurm murmur Qua * iliifilililir. . _Fl?i.iiilf“l

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But one fateful day, lust cs a pea had caused him to give a. wheczy cry, the old man saw Mrs. Jack Flo:t laughing at him.

ence was that he was more violent in his expressions.

"if you don't stop that, blasted talk about the Exhibition, P11 brain you one of these days!" he said one evening into his news- paper, which caused his vacuous

wife a good dotl of subdued giggling. Nevertheless George worked

hard to be pleasant to the old mnn, for he had visions of doing big things with his uncle's money and the “Starting-Post" advice.

Then came the time when Uncle Joe moved on to another place, having promised to return in due course, and hivlng given George great encouragement regarding his money. Indeed the old man had grown to almost l‘kc George, so

’ ‘k497i. ‘i. ,4__4 Holly Berry Beliefs

As far back as the Fifth Century Christians invested holly branches with a symbolism that helped to keep sacred memories alive. The crimson berries symbolized the blood shed on Calvary by the Foun der of the Christian religion; the pricklcy leaves held rcmembrances of thc crown of thorns; and the bitterness of the holly bark was

symbolic of the draught of which Christ parmok while hanging on the Cross.

Once, in fact. there was a custom of making a decoctlon from the bark and drinking it in the midst

present for little Jr-ckie," he said.

lie returned halJ-an-hour later with a pea-shooter and a. box of peas.

"There," he said, “that ought to please the little fellowi’

And for once Harriet laughed.

The result was pretty much as Ihrkinson had anticipated. A pea-shooter in the hands of Jackie was a sinister instrument. Very soon there were peas in Uncle Joe’s whiskers and peas in his hair. Peas caught him at every corner, peas which had sting in them, peas which hurt.

All this Uncle Joe might hive stood, but on one fateful day, just m a pea had caused him to give a. wheezy cry, the old man saw Mrs. Jack Float laughing at. him.

Thar, (lid it. On the following day Uncle Joe moved back f0 the house of George the Sportsman.

Nor did he return. Jack en-

deavourcd to smooth things over, but his uncle would not even see him. - And thus remained affairs until Christmas cam: cncc more, finding Uncle Joe back at Parkinson's, holding, as a result o.‘ his visits, a strong prediiiciion for George.

On the morning of Chrlsimu Eve there arrived by post a small package addressed t0 Uilflle J08- Thc old man received ii; personally from the postman and slipped it into his pocket so that he might open it in his bedroom before they

all sat down to breakfast. What he found anvzcd him. 1r was n. present from young

Jack mid consisted of apalr of newly-invenicd cor-drums which

The party had ended somewhere about four o'clock on Xmas morn- ing - and it had not been too good a. party. At breakfast there were four of us left in the studio. All the others had left because it seemed that. although they thought "Christ- mas ridiculous" or “an unnecessary amount of feeding for a. rather doubtful reason," they all had peo- ple who thought otherwise.

"The old people like us all to be there at Christmas time,” they had explained apologetleally and had drifted flWflY l" lmllossibly early hours, all extremely sober in readi- ness to do justice to the paternal feast. So when a sickly sun strug- gled through the mists, sending faint rays over the post-party mess in Dicky James‘ studio, there were only four of us left.

There was Dicky, who illustrates, and whom I rather-en-llke; Mon- ica who dances in Mr. somebodys revues; Jake Lambert, a long, lean, lugubrlous man, who writes pretty sentimental articles, and in real life loathes anything approaching sen- timent—and there was myself.

We were yawning and hungry, and not really vcry pleasant to look at. so to put a little life into us before we went to our various homes to spend Christmas day in bed, I said I'd cook some sausages.

Dick stuck a repulsive green cush- ion under his head, put his feet up on the divan and shut his eyes.

"That's a darn good idea, Kitten," he said, "Sausages and coffee—wc needn't bother about clearing up because Mrs. Mawkirls ls coming in for an hour-then I'll drive you all home to eat your puddings in soli- tary confinement."

"I used to like Christmas rather," confided Monica, who has always been a. sentimentalist, “But Christ- mas alone is worse than Soulhend on a wet Sunday."

"Have you ever been to South- end?’ enquired Jack sternly.

‘fNo," admitted Monica.

"Then don't talk in music hall cliches-everl Wigan is a far nicer place than our comedians would have you think."

lvlonica. sulked, and the sausages frizzled ,and Dicky got up and be- gan to put knives and forks on the table m a vague manner.

"I loathe‘ Ciuistmas,’ he said, “I loathe it. It always takes me until nearly Pancake Day to get over the depression it causes. The shops-full of odious people being cheerful and ‘avoiding the rush‘, and tired child- rent who don't really want to look at Father Christmas. The vulgarity of it all hurts me."

"A hotel Christmas might not be too bad," 1 suggested.

"Yes," Monica snccrcd. "Very gay -par-boiled trukey and red-faced provincials . .

Jake began. to be offended-he comes from Birmingham and any sneer at provincials immediately in- furiates him-oven at seven o'clock in the morning after a party.

"Who invented it, anyway?" I en- quired, trying to pour the proverbial oil and make coffee at the same time.

“Charles Dickens,’ said Jake mor- oscly, "And it has now become one of those horrible institutions that the newspapers call ‘typically Brit-

ish‘ . . ."

I had flnisLed my rather ineffic- ient cooking by lilb; lililk‘, um! luid it on the table. 'l'hc s... c. llud burst, but the coiled smut good-we found some rolls in a bu, nuur the coal box and iL uuszlt loo bod. I snoopcd round the lablc to s4 by Dickey-Dicky has blue 0p.- and lair hair-and, oil, well-rm funny that way. ,

We had lmrclly started wiun there was a ring at the door.

"Thatfili be lvlrs. Aluxil; Dicky, and went to l<i Li]

She was a nice old soul Willi u lace and a

as crinkly as a l'LL'.'.'>\i, zippli cheerful manner which she found cvcryilli-zu; lliliCii c than she had expected it Lu lit.

She fussed about the Liliidiu v;ii;le we ate, clearing glasses ‘and plmes into the scullery, ilulllng lugs straight, fetching more coal and logs to make the fire blaze up, srsccpnig up cigarette ends until the room be- gan to look quite cosy and mvliihg

again.

"What do you ihini; of nil 111.5 Christmas, lylrs. I~.lu\vi:ills'."' ilsksd Jake suddenly, his mouth railacr lull of sausage.

She straightened up from l.l‘.C

hearth, and looked at lnm.

“Well, sir," she b .: ullright for [hem lillil. can 1- . z But we ain't gviliiv; lllllfil (..:'..~'t- mas this Chriniiinis.’

priscclly. ell among the \'.‘(/i‘l\'i!l' is that, Mrs. H;

"Well, sir, it's l . my son-in-laiv, my c 'usband, ‘e's" gone luiQ. work."

"He seems to have awkward time," ma

“E ‘as an‘ all, s11,‘ amiably. "I earn u bit, Hit.- and there, you liPUlY-liili, winns that WllCTi we're six in 11m ' Avd my daughter's not long 11d 1 iiiud. poor thing, and she can l. go bu". yci. awhile . .' .

"Mrs. Mawkins," inmthitcd lJlci-zy, “You're depressing my i; llere are you: wages, and scir mm; ciao to compensate for llfivlilp, to endure this absurd and impractical season. Finish the washingmi) mid return to your harrasscd family."

“Yes, sir, Im sure, sir, 'l‘nuhk you. sir." and the old lady vanished into the scullery, from win-nee, ihvre presently came the clatter of dish washing.

We finished our urea! in wrrirry‘ sil- ence. then pulled on our wraps wlnie Dicky got his dilapidated two sweat- er out to take us home.

It was three o'clock when 1 woke up that afternoon. Aficr a bath and a cup of tea I felt quite bright, but very conscious that it \'.".l.s Christ- mas and I was alone. 1 pondered deeply for about iivc nzhxulcs, then making up my mind, and incident- ally my facc, I put on my mos’. nt- tractivc hat and departed lur the house of my second cou. in who iivcs in Fulhani. Sh: as five h ill'.ll_‘.', spoiled children and a inrg-‘c breezy husband-—ond they nil weivauiieci me hilariously ( Ithini: Kat;- wus. rather tight on grocery champagne) und into her kindly car I l piuililscl my nccds. She was a b