Evening star., 1946-08-06

about the increase in food costs.
With the mathematical wizardry
which, in years gone by, enabled me
to master the multiplication tables
at the age Of 10, have figured out
that the Louisville padre spends but
3 and fraction cents on each
meal, including Sunday dinner. The
fact that he can get by with such a
small outlay on weekday meals
astounds me, but the fact that he
is satisfied with a 31a-cen Sunday
dinner, doubly astounds me.
Minister'S Son, Too.
AS minister's son, I know that
the gentlemen of the cloth place a
premium on Sunday dinner. Econ
omy might have been the watch
word of our home during weekdays,
but when Sunday rolled round, the
table really groaned. 1t was one of
my duties on Sundays-just as soon
as I had finished polishing my
sisters good shoes-to put the extra
leaves in the dining room table.
They stayed in a closet all week,
but on Sundays they were needed
to take care .of the extras that
flowed from the kitchen.
Remembering the appetites of the
members of my family and our
guests-we usually had a visiting
minister and his wife at the table
and the gracious and determined
manner in which we all fought for
the lightest biscuits, the whitest
parts of the chicken and the heaviest
wedges of pie and cake, makes me
wonder what happens at the Rev.
DR.. Swann's home on Sunday.
A typical meal at his home con-
sists of pea soup. fried potatoes,
bread made of whole wheat flour
and soybean meal, sirup and pea
nut butter. Cost, 3 cents.
How would one go about picking
out the breast of peanut butter?
Which is the best cut of soybean?
The tenderest part of fried potatoes?
Half the fun of eating is beating
somebody else to the choicest NOR
sells. without having to use your
knife and fork for weapons.
Nevertheless. I envy the Rev. DR..
Swami. AS the head of a house,
who has to pay grocery bill each
week, my auburn scalp is fast turn
ing to silver. We do our best to
eat like sparrows, even going so
far as to take dust baths, and to
perch on the edge Of the table
when dining, but still our grocery
bill reads like the estimate of the
cost Of laying the keel for a new
battleship
Dollar Bill Jingles.
Every now and then I help with
the shopping, and never go shop
ping without remembering the days
Of my boyhood when I clerked in a
grocery store after school. In those
days a six-dollar order took a lot
OF time to fill, and it took me sew
eral trips to carry the stuff out
to the purchasers car.
How different today. You can
spend six dollars in a grocery store
these days and wind up with so lit
tie that any fairly robust three
year-old child can carry your pur-
chases home under one arm. This
is not knock at grocery stores. It
isn't knock at any one or anything
unless it be the dollar bill. The
dollar bill has come so close to
being worth so cents, that wouldn't
be surprised to find it jingling in
my pocket after the manner of sill
yer.
But I talk like an old, old man.
A man who is living in the past. II
I feel upset. just think of how those
men feel who can remember when
eggs were 5 cents a pound, and
liver was thrown in for the cat
They must be throwing conniption
fits, pure and simple. All save the
Rev. DR.. Swami, who seems to have
the situation licked.
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