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Show KATHLEEN MORRIS Men Are a Laugh BeU Syndicate- WNU features By KATHLEEN NOBRIS ITS A WISE man, indeed, at whom the women of the family fam-ily don't occasionally laugh. The other day I had a quiet laugh at my favorite psychologist. He is my favorite because his talk is usually so down-to-the ground sense. I've listened to him on the radio for some months and know that he is a professor and writer in his own line. But the ouier day he went way off the track and I confess I enjoyed It. I've quoted him here twice, once as reminding us that our first great ally, God, is being pretty well neglected In international conferences confer-ences these days and again when he gave some excellent simple advice about uprooting corrosive hates from our hearts. The talk that made me laugh In a quiet superior way was not on such grave subjects. It was about an annual family gathering of his own clan, apparently consisting of as many as 35 or 40 persons. It seems that usually women prepare pre-pare the feasts on these occasions, each bringing her own famous dish, prepared in special and long-praised long-praised ways. AH Nonsense Well, my psychologist and some other men of the group decided that this was all nonsense. There was no reason for the women to fuss and flurry about so simple a thing as a ceremonial dinner, so this year, let the boys do itl So the boys, he boasted, laid in buns and frankfurters, mustard, paper plates, cups and napkins, pop and coffee, cakes from a famous baker and ice cream from somewherethe some-wherethe drugstore, perhaps. And there was their feast, so simple, so easy to eat, so econom- Divorces begin in the kitchen. leal of dishes, towels and labor generally. gen-erally. They were all, he said in his simplicity, delighted. It was a great success. Now, If he had stopped there, I would have forgiven him. Men have been making clumsy attempts at cooking, dinner preparing and baby-tending baby-tending since time began. Women, during the same period, have praised the poor unsuspecting fellows, have quietly unpinned the baby, made the crib over, turned out lights, taken away explosive toys or eaten the surprisingly novel frankfurters and Ice cream and declared de-clared loyally that there never were such brilliantly original caterers! But he didn't stop there. He went on to say that If ever the women were foolish enough again to set a table with lace and candles, dress turkeys, frost cakes, proudly produce pro-duce the string beans with mushrooms mush-rooms and the corn with peppers, the iced puddings and lemon meringue mer-ingue pies. Have No Sympathy The men wouldn't have any sympathy sym-pathy with them. Not one whit. The men wouldn't help clear up and the women could bear the result of their own folly. More than that, housewives generally had better stop fussing with food as all important import-ant because men didn't care a whoop what they ate. Men want the little women cool, pretty, rested and free. She can I gathered this anyway she can give him frankfurters frank-furters and bakery cake right straight along. Well, I'm older than the professor and, in this respect, I'm wiser, down cake?" And I always did. Believe me, Professor, the sweet, cool chatty little woman with the can-opener and the bakery bill loses out. There's no sensation in the world that makes a tired man feel so snug, so content, so loved as to have the smoking kidney chop, the asparagus, the cube of corn-bread, corn-bread, the apple dumpling put before be-fore him by the woman who cares enough to fuss with them for him. More divorces break loose in the kitchen than in any other part of the house. Slapdash cooking is extravagant ex-travagant cooking and monotonous cooking means ulcers, mental, moral and physical. Smart mothers know that no dis- turbing subjects must be opened until the husband is fed comfortably. comfort-ably. Good wives set a pretty as well as a nourishing table and the things that world-travelers see first and appreciate most are those very candles, the line, the silver disb of olives or chocolates. No congratulations go from me to you on that commonplace, sloppy, mustard-smeared, mashed paper-plate-and-napkin meal you men served so complacently. We women, In these servantless days, have too much of that sort of makeshift |