The Washington herald., 1913-05-14
THE ATTIC INSTINCT
SHOULD BE CURBED
Better to Give Away Things You
Cannot Use Than Have Them
m Decay.
By FRANCES sHAFFER.

By FhANSES SHhr II A<ss'
When the cleanup" spirit floating
about in the air, with the very word
rubbish" sort of disgrace to city or
q home, what of the attic, the cellar,
the closets, the pantries, the convenient
corner anywhere into which, helter-
SHELTER. go the overflow things of every
sort and description not quite dilapidated
enough TO be carted away!
For there are not many Mrs. Good
= Housekeepers who have the moral cour-
age to separate the sheep from the goats
al the very start and to absolutely re-
fuse to stow away the Accommodations OF
years on the bare suspicion that they
..may come in handy some fine day.
Yet II takes only a year or so of average
attic life for quite respectable belong
ings to be transformed into the veriest
rubbish so worthless that nobody but
the ashman will look at it twice-and he
for a price!
OF course, there always is day of
reckoning when the whole attic outfit
must be made to give up its useless
treasure" because the most accommo-
dating storehollse in the world will turn
and protest when it is pushed too hard.
And, you know, ii is a real pity, then,
to view the possessions, things that be-
fore the ravaging hand of time rendered
blessing to some one in need. 1t is sell
dom enough that the wheels of time ever
revolve to a point where the discarded
belongings are set up in the same home
again, and if they might have been
taken, then and there, to some one TO
whom they would have proven of lasting
worth, well, then, they would have been
a blessing instead of an out-ano-out
nuisance for a decade or SO.
nvsn
The clothes that were carefully packed
away, with malodorous moth balls De-
meath their old-time folds-it was hoped
they would serve for yet another day.
some time or other. But they never did.
In their day and generation they would
have gladdened some one, as their very
Sunday best" but, when next they saw
the light of the sun, gone was every OPP
portunity for usefulness, gone every bit
of their grace.
The evening gown of shimmery silk.
half mussed then and laid away for re-
iuvenation later on-of what possible use
is the ancient finery today?
The pretty muslin, that one time cried
aloud to be given away, was viewed with
loving but very ungenerous eyes, then
consigned to an unfriendly trunk. where
il simply frittered and faded its life
away.
And the hats, Do you know, IL is a
positive sin to lay aside hats, year after
year. hoping against hope that they may
be furnished UP by grace OF nimble I'm
gers some time when they fit in with the
seasons dictates? For their fate is al
ways a swift decline, TO be ruthlessly
thrown away in the end. And ever on the
outskirts some one is standing to whom
a hat. not over season old, would give
a real hint of millinery luxury. Strange,
that closets and shelves are forced to
groan and groan with piled-up boxes OF
nothing but hats. hats, hats. Stranger
still that the attic instinct, once i'm
planted, dies so very hard.
Never Got a Peep at Them.
There, on the topmost shelf, is a huge
paper box crammed full OF pictures,
Easter cards. pretty little, foolish little,
out-of-date Christmas tokens - tucked
away fo- many a long season in the fond
delusion that some little tot would be
happy TO finger them over on rainy
day BIT the poor little imaginary
stranger never gets a peep at the box.
And up in the attic, playing tag with
spiders and trying their best 10 hobnob
with dust are little chairs graced by
crown-up folk once-upon-a-tlme. Now,
as the little ones passed on and away
from their childhood days, why were
not these little chairs permitted to pass
on. too? Because there are homes upon
homes overloaded with small folk who
are entire strangers to little chairs suit
ed to their size. It's the attic instinct
again
Pictures that ought to have adorned
other walls long, long ago, stand back
to-back in corners, mutely appealing for
homes. Utterly useless there, and with
no hope of ever coming into their own
again, why were they not sent on their
picture-way rejoicing to decorate walls
that would have given them a genuine
welcome? Indeed, the attic is not an
unmixed blessing, and as to the instinct
that prompts folk to fill il with the
finery and other reminders of bygone
days it is distinctly discreditable.
Good Only for the Dump.
And some time or other, when moth
and rust and general decay steal in,
they are certain to wish that they had
not cluns quite so tenaciously to posses
sions that, to them, had outlived their
usefulness. For when the accumulations