New Britain herald., 1928-05-05
NO 0H0USECLEAN|NG
 IN YE 0LDEN DAYS
Mary Ann Thinks Life MIta
 Been One Sweet Song
(Contributed)

|
 Last week you told me about King Arthur and his Round Table knishts that roamed the countryside in the olden days all dolled up with hardware fixtures and how hie musta been one sweet holiday after another as they didn't seem to have any daily labors except maybe start- ing and finishing an argument with some other galoot and giving the fair ladies a tumble. I'll bet even the fair ladies musta lived a happy and carefree life because they never had any spring house cleaning 10 run them ragged, detouring through railways and parlors with vacuum cleaner and leaving their work half finished to answer the doorbell and try to discourage book agents. bill collectors. etc.
 Neither did they hafta chaperon feather dlster over the mahos- any, while waiting for the water to heat SOS they could tackle the supper dishes. and suddenly find unexpected company on their hands, the radio battery "dead' and nothing to entertain them with except couple of cracked victrola records. Also they never had to worry about how long per- manent wave would last in damp weather and if last years bonnet could be fixed over without having the james at the office saying that it looked like something the maid for got to throw out with the rest of the left overs.
 They wasn't subject to such goat- getters as having the men folks spill cigar ashes all over the carpets after you told 'em hundred times flor goodness saks use the ash trays and not put burnt out matches in the vest pockets Nor did they hafta worry what friend husband Gin case you had one) would say when he learned that his best silk shirt came back from the laundry looking like it had an argument with the wash wringer and lost. Those olden days. like the low cost of loving. are gone forever and bringing them back would be about as easy as sweeping the front porch with a whisk broom, or carrying the screens down from the attic with one hand tied behind your back and both eyes closed.
 I'l admit the armored knight would probably make a sturdy traf- tic cop. being well protected from fivver lenders and could hand a couple of dents and the merry rasp- berries to every gas wagon that tried to climb his frame. But as a gallant fire laddie he'd be about as useful as the drugstore cowboy whose brains have gone on a long journey using a One-way ticket. Imagine an iron clad warrior climbing a big aerial ladder to the fifth floor of a burning building to rescue some dizzy blond that's poking her bean out the win- dow yelling for help because shes too dumb to use the fire escape.
 He'd start off like spring tonic but by the time he got half way the weight of his ''.e sea diving suit' would leave him puffing like 1923 flivver exhaust and wishing he was somewheres else. If he neglected to lubricate his afm and leg joints before going on duty he'd find him. self tied up in knots or something and unable to move to the next runs. Then he'd be the one that would hafta holler for help. What a thrill the spectators would get it the chief ordered him to leap into the life net. If he obliged with the Steve Brodie and missed, iron paiamas and all, the ground wouldn't even slow him up but he should worry as he'd probably land in a wandering sub- way and let the city take care of him, and how.
 AS Ever.
 MARY ANN.