The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 11, Issue 8 (November 2, 1936)
Affection and Digestion
Affection and Digestion.
There is something to be said for some bad-tempered husbands, but their wives have said it all. We hold no brief for the husband who habitually looks as black as the back of Willie's ears; we simply search for causes and cures.
Some wives—otherwise quite nice—assert that the way to a man's heart is via his stomach; that the path to his affection is through his digestion. Certainly we all know of homes wrecked by a simple cookery-class pie, of domesticity desolated by culinary indiscretions. We know full well the dreadful potentialities of the unleavened doughnut and the horrid halucinations produced by a carelessly constructed sausage stew. We realise that the heart bowed down by weight of dough cannot beat the merry measure. Consequently the wily wife recognises that, after marriage, Cupid's darts are knives and forks.