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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Seaforth News, 1960-03-03, Page 2Husband Trouble And Its Cures) „You've got to stop at home sometimes, Harry," sobbed the lovely young wife. "It's unfair --- your going out every night, dancing, You know I can't have Any fun as I ans." But Harry, although twenty- three -year-old Margaret, was ex- pecting her first baby, refused to stay at home, "I can't tn000h about here, doing nothing the whole evening, or just sit staring at you," he exclaimed, irritably.' Margaret rushed out of the room, One row followed an- other, Because of her husband's neglect and selfishness, she feared she 'would soon become a nervous wreck unless she took some action. At last, after much eogitation, she decided what she must do, ,. One autumn evening Harry Went to his. wardrobe to put on his dinner jacket. It hung on the peg alone, all his other clothes having been r e me v e d. He grasped it, and then drew back in dismay, for his hands clutched a sticky, black, glutinous mess, Margaret had smeared the whole jacket with TAR. Rushing downstairs, he de- manded to know what she meant• by such a horrible trick, "I'll clean it for you," she said, calmly, "after the baby arrives and we can go dancing together." Harry's fists clenched. For a mo_ ment it looked as if he was going to hit her, but he controlled him- self. "Oh well," he said, "I suppose girls do strange things when they're in your condition." And, remarkable to record, after that act of self-control, Harry put aside his passion for dancing. By the time the baby arrived, he was a reformed character. To- day, his wife is firmly convinced that her tarring act not only saved her marriage, but turned he dance -crazy husband into a model father. Not all varieties of husband - trouble end so happily. In fact the pendulum, as many couples realize to their dismay, tends more often to swing sharply the other way, to widen the breach. Some husbands -really do ask for trouble. A Scot from Oban, Who migrated to a small market town in south Essex, built up a thriving drapery business. A stickler for accounts, he made his wife keep a strict tally of her housekeeping money. In fact, she had to present him with her books weekly showing exactly how every penny went. At first, sharing his ideas of economy, she conformed without protest to this practice. But soon she realized it was a kind of ob- session with him. One week -end, when he called for her housekeeping book, she brought him instead a grey fu- neral urn. "What's that for?" he demanded, much puzzled. "I want to check your expense book, dear." "You've got it, right in front of you," she retorted. "Just look inside, and you'll discover its ashes." IIe removed the lid and launched into a stream of abuse, but she interrupted him. Grasp- ing the urn, she emptied it over his head so that the ashes trickl- ed all over his face. "How funny you look, decor- ated like that!" she burst out, hysterically. "P e r h a p s that'll help you to forget that stupid idea of yours of aceounting for every little farthing!" .A Texas husband, Jakub Fried- mann, had to seek police protec- tion recently from his wife, "She's determined to' roast me alive by setting tire to my bed," he reported, Three times she had shoved a fire basket under his bed, so that he had woken up wreathed in flames, his bed- clothes blazing. The police found that the fire - raising was prompted by jeala ouay, and based on quite ill- founded suspicions. Friedmann had engaged anew secretary,•a pretty and efficient blonde of twenty-four, His wife, however, seemed to think that her hus- band was in love `with- the girl. In this ease, desperate meas- ures paid off, for the couple were reconciled. A German wife, Hildegarde K. married to an Essen book- keeper, used her skill as a pho- tographer to punish him for his infidelities. She managed to snap secretly the girl in whom he was interested, then she paired this photograph with that of an el- derly millionaire and posted the combined picture to her husband. "When you've as much money as he has, you may take her," said the anonymous message. Her husband, however, forced her to confess. Then, as each ac- cused the other of deception, their house became a battlefield, the husband tearing down and smashing the pictures, the wife picking up porcelain and china and hurling them at her disloyal partner. Such was the fracas that neighbours had to intervene and keep the two home -wreckers apart. An accountant living in Sussex had a greenhouse, in which he specialized in growing figs, But his wife, he discovered within the first few weeks of their mar- riage, detested figs and frowned on his greenhouse hobby. "I'm not going to give it up," he told her, but he has since done so. She did not wreck the greenhouse; her method was far more subtle. She poisoned the soil and as fast as he introduced fresh soil and plants, so she ap- plied her secret killing does. Finally, he had to give it up as obviously nothing would grow inside, Now, however, the green- house has been converted into a sun parlour, and everyone is happy. • . Some husbands run into trouble when least expecting it. A man who married a divorcee took his bride to a seaside villa, But as he unlocked the front. door, a figure lurched out of the shadows, the wife's ex-husband. "You've stolen my wife," he raved, roaring drunk, "You're not going to get away with this!" Caught completely off guard, the bridegroom went down un- der a terrific uppercut. Shacked and frightened, the wife ran screaming down the path, with her ex-husband in hot pursuit. "I always knew you were a brute, Charlie, and now this. proves it," she shrilled, as he caught up with her. Seizing her, he tried to kiss her but luckily a passer-by intervened. As it happened, the newlyweds spent their honeymoon first night under the same roof. But the battered bridegroom, his head swathed in bandages, was so ner- vous that he"1Beked himself in a separate room and refused to come out until satisfied that his rival had left. town, SWEET BIRD — Jody Youngblood loves Adam Ulysses 111 dearly. Shecarries the 9 -month -cid falcon on her shoulder ail day long Tn her Fort Worth, Tex., restaurant. Once Jody loaned lovable Adam to the city zoo where he promptly tore into aviary cell- males, Ncw he's back with Jody and all is sweetness. REAL ARTSY TABLE — ,Guests who drop in unexpectedly may find this table doing likewise. This dining room table is designed to fit against the wall when not in use — w'here it looks like a framed painting of grasses and butterflies, Tiltedforward, it can squeeze in five. TABLE TAJ.IKS dam Aru�!c� yews. Here, for a change from the usual batch of recipes, is the tale of a woman who decided to try home-made bread, It was written by Mrs. Gail Edith John-' son in the Christian Science Monitor and I hope you enjoy it as -much as I did. ' * • *' I looked suspiciaasly at the recipe. "Why, oh, why," I moan- ed, "did I have to marry a man who loved homemade bread !" But I had, and he did. He was "sick and tired," he had said, "of mouthing bought bread that tasted like glue and sawdust !" Resignedly I started in. "Dis- solve two packages of yeast in one-half cup of warm water," the recipe read. I filled a mea- suring cup half full of hot tap water and added the yeast. Then I stirred in exaot amounts of everything else and kneaded the sticky mess as ordered for 10 minutes, eyes riveted on the clock. Finally, I "rounded" it up in a greased bowl, covering it with a damp dish towel. The recipe called for a warm place for the dough to raise, so I set it 'on top of my oil stove. When I peeked under the cloth • later the dough looked like -the same white blob I had started with. I checked it two, two and a half, three hours later. It still hadn't risen. I decided I'd better punch it down anyway. An hour later that punched- down look was still there. I didn't• have the faintest nation what was wrong, but I decided to bake it and see what hap- pened. r Somewhat Sticky I dumped the gooey mass onto my floured board to shape loaves. It came out of the bowl with difficulty, as heat from the ail stove had baked an inch - thick crust on the bottom. Daunted, but still game, 1 fin- gered the crust into the dough and shaped "loaves." These I baked at 425 degrees F. for 25 minutes. Baking couldn't do them any harm, I thought inno- cently. Being unfamiliar with my oven, 1 neglected to move the dial from preheat to bake Removing t h e "loaves" from the oven was like taking bricks . from a kiln, They reaenibled bricks in size and colour and weighed as much. I turned them out of the pans and decided to try a slice. Laboriously I cut through the leathery cruet and into the musty smelling bread. Xt was mushy gray and tasted that way. The first thing my husband noticed when he arrived home was my pathetic attempt at pre- paring the teff of life. He pecked -me on the nose, sniffed, a n d asked, puzzled, "What's that funny smell ?" 'Nothing To Hide' "Oh, nothing, clear nothing," I said, hastily backing in front of the loaves. I grabbed a towel and covered the evidence, "What are you hiding?" he asked coyly, reaching 'for the towel, "Ah, my little wifey has baking bread 1" hefted a ,loaf and it accidentally fell to the. floor, making a very ttn- breadlike thud, He picked' it up, leaned against a chair,' and just 'laughed and laughed) ' "This — this —" he choked, weakly, "ie the craziest bread I've ever seen. Just like honest - to -goodness brick!" ISSUE a — 1960 He stopped suddenly when he saw the tears rolling down my 'cheeks. "Oh, honey," he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.. Don't get dis- c;curaged. I'll bet, if y o u try again your bread'll come out right !" * - * I tried, and — oh, well, prac- tice does make perfect. Little things done just right ran make a difference, 'For instance: HOT water killed my yeast and caused the musty bricklike bread. The water must be lukewarm. Another thing: Direct heat will 'form a crust on dough; a high shelf or chair near a'warm air register is muoh better. And still another: Punching down then shaping loaves properly gives a fine texture, preventing a Swiss cheese effect from air bubbles. Many sessions later I had concocted a whole new re- cipe, Here it is: Fine -every -time bread—For two loaves: Dissolve 1 package of dry yeast and 1 'teaspoon sugar in 1/s cup luke- warm water. Let stand •10 min- utes. To 1 cup milk add: I cup hot water, 3 tablespoons sugar, 1 tablespoon s a 1 t, and 2 table- spoons shortening. When mixture is cool to luke- warm, add yeast mixture and Ya teaspoon cardamon. Then add sifted . flour gradually, until dough can be handled. (No nead to measure.) * * * Knead about 10 minutes or un- til dough is smooth and. elastic, but only slightly sticky. Round up in greased bowl; bring greas- ed side up. Cover and let rise until double in bulk. Punch down and let rise again. Shape -into two loaves, put in greased pans, and let rise until double., Bake at 425 degrees F. for 25 minutes. Turn out on wire racks, Cool, then freeze or store in plastic hags. 5 a One last warning: Put the bread to rise in plain • view. Once 2 nestled my bowl high on a closet she1L •and went gaily about my housework, pleased with myself far having found suoh a nice warm 'spot. Hours later I flew to the shelf with palpitating heart. It was a mess! The blown -up dough had escap- ed the bowl and was 'stretching sticky tentacles 'into my best blankets and sheets 1 THE PROBLEM Most of Its have a pretty clear idea of the world we want. What we lack is an understand- ing of l.ow to go about getting it.—Hugh Gib'nn, FLORAL — Straw-and.shantunp beach hat is One of the Italian imports you may be seeing next summer. Does Money Bring Happiness? The question is hardly original but the row it has provoked in the obscure Italian village of San Marco .d'Urri was surely unpre- cedented. The money arrived last No- vember when every man, wo- man, and child in San Marco was presented with 25 shares of Bank of America stock worth $1,200 and paying $47 a year in divi- dends, "Maraviglioso!" the vil- lagers cried when bankers, TV cameramen, and news photogra- phers arrived from Genoa and slogged the last half mile into town on a, muddy mule path. The church bell tolfed and there was lofty praise for the two' brothers, Victor and Joseph Saturno, who had sent the money from Ame- rica.' Rich and childless real- estate operators in Reno, Nev., they had wanted to create a me- morial to their father, Leopold, who had spent his youth in San Marco. "Che generosita" the vil- lagers agreed. Everyone, that is, except the terrible -tempered widow Vir- ginia Cassinelli, 62„ who, in an age of payola, refused to sign `ttlp for her share, Claiming it wa the work of the devil and hurling lurid curses, the widow t'0rce4 her son, Mario 66, and her daugh ter, Gentile, 03, to'g,vc up thein shares, too. The village, she ar- gued, was going to the dogs, pre- cipitevolissimovoimente. When the villagers starte4 squabbling over their neVtr wealth,. it seemed the widow might be right. Youths swagger* ed around in fancy new trench coats and the silence of the' once - peaceful countryside was ruined by the roar of scooter , bikes. worse still, a feud developed ovek what sort of "thank you" gesture San Marco should make. On proposal was to change the name of the village to Saturn* (that wouldn't cost anything, bun Was finally discarded as too nig- gardly). Then a• statue was pro- posed but rejected on the grounel that San Marco has no piazza 64 put it in. Finally, the 220 inhabit- ants of the upper part of- the vil- lage decided to build a church in honor of the Saturnos, This would save them walking half a mile to the church in the lower part of the town, But the 64 resi- dents of lower San Marco object- ed. They preferred a bust of Papa Leopoldo in front of the present church, "You want'the church and. the statue, too," complained upper San Marco, "Well, .you've got the wine - shop and the television .— you can't have everything," shouted back lower San Marco. Then a small boy got a bright idea. Why not a statue of Leopol- do, halfway between the upper and lower levels of the village? "Magnifico," the villagers agreed, and for a while it seemed that even the widow Cassinelli would approve. 'First she sent son Mario out to claim his share. Next. she. sent 'daughter Gentile. But Gentile was trapped in a sudden 6 -foot fall of snow and barely made it back te'.the wid- ow's 'one -room shack. it .was a warning sign to the widow. "The devil's behind this," she wailed last month. "We'll pay for all thin• gold in some terrible way. Just you wait and see." -From NEWSWEEK "I am afraid, doctor," said Mrs, Wimpole, "that my husband has some terrible mental affliction. Sometimes I talk to, him for hours and then discover that h. hasn't heard a word." "That's not an affliction,. madam," was the weary reply. "That's a gift." FASHION HINT l Nllill �lil'IIN�dl�ll'!yNl�liIUFINi�IIYd