Western Mail (Perth, WA : 1885 - 1954), Thursday 4 November 1954, page 25


NOTICED how many of the

should-be-smart set, who parade around in those expensive sling-back strap shoes, slip-slop along the Ter-race in them? It's because the "sling" has stretched and hangs down below the heel.

High-priced shoes should feel good and look better. There's nothing looks much worse than to see some

of style's high-steppers get so slip-shod that they seem to be scuffing along in carpet-slippers.

ADMITTEDLY the sandwich - an

18th Century invention that saved the shameless fourth Earl of Sand-wich from rising from the gaming table - was hit upon by an ingenious Englishman.

But one would think that by now

the eccentric Continentals would have found out how to cut and serve one.

Jill Maxwell, who chauffeured her Mosman Bay parents around Britain and on a quick tour of Western Europe, gives an entertaining account of some of the odd "sandwiches" that they encountered.

Encountered is the word. Their first attempt at describing this delicacy to a Frenchman resulted in the alarm-ing appearance of a yard-long loaf of bread cut through the middle and with slices of thick ham dripping from its sides.

The garcon couldn't savvy the word "knife," so they were left to tackle the monster with their bare hands.

In Berne they had no trouble at all in making themselves understood. The waiter nodded, gave the order and set the table with knives and forks. Curi-ous, they could hardly wait.

It proved to be a toasted Dagwood sandwich, filled with layer upon layer of chicken, tomato and lettuce, and standing about nine inches high.

The modest sandwich, as we know it,

is said also to have disappeared in rural England, the alternatives being a Devonshire tea or thin slices of bread and butter. -

"YOU'D better be careful what you

say - you'll have them agitating for all those things here" Perth City councillors told English Councillor Marjorie Sutcliffe, whose temporary quarters is Riverview.

They had just heard about her end of the civic stick in Yorkshire after welcoming her on her four-month

visit to Perth.

One of two women among 24 coun-cillors back home, Mrs. Sutcliffe's arduous (honorary) duties include work with her council's housing, health and education, committees in addition to other routine responsi-bilities.

"We inspect housing estates, build flats for old people, look after re-servoirs and district roads other than the main trunk ones," she said. "It seems to be different here."

Accustomed to seeing a badge of office on even the wives of urban district chairmen, she is astonished that Mayoress Mrs. Murray does not have a chain of office here.

Three times a mayoress herself be-cause of her late husband's 25-year association with the Hehdenroyd council, Mrs. Sutcliffe complained that the work took up too much of his time, persuaded him to give it Up-and was then induced to stand for election herself.

"Naturally, when I got on. he was a bit peeved," she confessed. Well, who would blame him?

WHEN Mr. Claude Hotchin recently

opened wide the Caversham gates of his old Colonial home, large roadside notices directed the motorist to Mandalay and to a garden party ia aid of the Girl Guides Association.

For a man with his heart in the land and his head in the town, the site with its white-washed bungalow and its spacious, manor-styled gar-dens, could not have been better

chosen.

Of all the roads that fan out from the city, this one brings you into the most typically rural countryside in the shortest space of time.

With the metropolis growing as it is, it is quite astonishing that within min-utes of leaving Guildford, the avid country-lover can fill his lungs with the smell of dairy cows and enjoy the sight of plough horses, grazing sheep and stooks of meadow hay.

Two gins patting along in bare feet add still another bush touch.

Mandalay is part of the property that was taken up by Captain John Septimus Roe, the first surveyor-gene-ral, and two of his great-great-grand-children turned up to drink their fill of the exhibition of art.