Melbourne Observer. 121121B. November 21, 2012. Part B. Pages 19-46

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Buying Guide

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Healthy Living

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Healthy Living

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Melbourne

Observer Life & Style

Travel Briefs

THE NEW ADDRESS BOOK

$1000 credit

■ Every couple of years I have to replace my address book.

The last book had been used for so long I used to hide it in the bottom of my handbag because it was falling apart and looked an absolute disgrace.

My address book is my lifeline and I would spend a great deal of time buying one that had oodles of pages.

There was only one other requirement for a speedy purchase besides having a huge amount of thick alphabetical pages, and that was that it be leather bound.

My standard was high having been given the ultimate book by a close friend who knew my penchant and spend a poultice for one she saw in Vienna whilst on a business trip to Austria a few years ago.

Yvonne’s Column

Never to be forgotten

My lifeline stolen

■ I loved this book, and the almost erotic feel of the leather cover as I perused it for telephone numbers.

Unfortunately, the book was stolen when I accidentally left it on the reception desk at the shopping center when I was summoned to a drama that involved guns happening in one of my tenants’ shops.

I grieved like a long lost lover for it and would have happily put the offender in stocks in the village square when the police told me they had arrested her.

No one not in business can possibly know the problems it causes, particularly in my case because I had telephone numbers of people in show business and ‘high places’ as they say.

Not one of them would have been amused being phoned by a drug-induced woman they had never heard of at some ungodly hour.

The police advised them to change their phone numbers and locks and that creates yet another set of problems for everybody like a ripple effect that goes on and on and on.

How could this villain slop beer, stub out her cigarette and goodness knows what else all over the beautifully crafted, hand-tooled leather cover. What a philistine?

And there was no way I could unstick the pages.

An extravagance

■ It was ages before I could throw it away, although it was useless for the purpose for which it had been bought.

My search for a replacement continued until I found in a little stationary shop tucked away at the end of an arcade, a beautiful replacement.

It cost an arm and a leg, but I knew it would last for ages, and only my bank manager would ever know of my extravagance.

Thinking back, starting a new exercise book at school always gave me enormous pleasure too.

I started at the first page with my very best writing and always underscored with a Derwent red pencil. As the year progressed, my writing deteriorated to hasty scribble, and the Derwent pencil had worn down to a stub.

This week, the time arrived to rewrite all the telephone numbers and addresses of friends in my new book.

Each one was worthy of being recorded into this rich red leather covered address book with my name on the cover in gold leaf.

Sometimes we’d meet at the Xerox machine and if it happened to be a Monday morning, football was the topic.

Paul tried to get me interested in football, and to pick Collingwood as my team. Fortunately he never waited long enough for an answer.

I’ll always treasure the phone call from Paul after I was dumped from 3AW. You soon find out who your friends are when you are dumped.

with Yvonne Lawrence yvonne.lawrence@bigpond.com

Reminder of good friends ■ Having just gone past half the ‘A’s’ I was brought up with a jolt. I was reminded that two of my good friends had died during the year and had to be deleted from my book.

As the years creep by you realise how important to your life are your friends.

You may not see them all year, but you know that if you need a shoulder to cry on, or some good news to relate they will be there for you.

So mid stream in the ‘A’s’ I stopped and thought about these two friends. Things such as when we met, fun times together, and regretting that I hadn’t contacted them for a while. Now it was too late.

Bryce Courtenay told me that it was his experience; friendship is the companion that walks beside love and is often the more enduring of the two.

I couldn’t have said it better than dear Bryce. And yes, he is in my address book.

Last week, another name to strike off.

Saying goodbye ■ It was with enormous sadness that I heard my radio colleague and all round friend lost his fight for life.

Paul Barber was the most gorgeous man and always had a minute to pat you on the shoulder as he hurried between calls.

He and I used to laugh about some of my calls to Sexually Speaking. Not in a mocking way I hasten to add, but just in amazement sometimes.

He had a terrific sense of humour and was a great journalist.

When I resigned from 3AW, Paul was the only bloke that came with a few friends to say goodbye. I loved him for that.

■ And that’s why Helen Kapalos number will never be removed from my address book.

And neither will Paul’s.

I used to talk with him often, but not purposely. His name was above another friend with the initial B and often I would call Paul instead of the other number.

He laughed when I apologised and never once said he was busy. I could see him smiling as we talked.

I will never forget Paul Barber.

His generosity, wit, talent and feistiness when necessary made for an all round terrific bloke who will never be forgotten.

I’ll get around to entering names in my new book later when it’s not too hard to delete friends.

It has made me realise that I should phone people if for no other reason than to say hi and I was thinking of them.

And to replace my address book more often.

Vale Paul Barber.

Never-ending cycle ■ As you get older and you start to lose people around you who are very dear to you, you realise that we are all part of the never-ending cycle of life and death.

I was reminded of this only this morning when passing an enormous fish fern in a hanging basket in one the trees in the back garden something shiny caught my eye.

Much to my surprise a bird had built her nest on the top of the basket and there in the nest was the tiniest beady eyed, and dare I say, ugliest bird barely covered in feathers waiting for his breakfast.

His huge yellow beak was half as big as his head. It really brought a smile to my face and a good feeling all over.

I even like the cheeky mynah birds and I have a feeling this little critter with the big gob could well be one.

Last week I told you that I was standing guard over three loquats that were just about ready for eating. For some reason, the ‘ninja’ possums had left them after stripping the tree of all the other fruit. Just to tease me perhaps!

This morning I knew I had lost the battle. The possums were too shrewd for me. On the ground were three stones, and above was a leafless branch. Foiled again.

I’ve planted the stones in a pot and hopefully one of the stones will shoot, and I have no doubt the cycle will continue ad infinitum.

Yvonne.

Contact: Melbourne Observer. P.O Box 1278 Research. 3095

■ Seadream Yacht Club is offering up to US$1000 per stateroom credit* towards air travel to join its final sailings on the Amazon River during February and March 2013 aboard its 56-stateroom mega motor-cruiser SeaDream II. The eight 7- to 20-day sailings include onboard expert naturalists and historians and 95 crew for a maximum 112-guests, shore excursions to visit Amazonian tribes, and will be SeaDream’s last on the Amazon as SeaDream II will be sailing in Asia/Australia in the first quarter of 2014 and SeaDream I in the Caribbean, Costa Rica and Panama.

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For full dates and itineraries see travel agents or visit www.seadream.com.

If you would like to receive a weekly copy of the Melbourne Observer delivered to your mailbox anywhere in Australia, you can buy a $99 mail subscription for 45 issues. Officially, the price has gone up but we will maintain the special for just a few more days./ Phone 1-800 231 311

Page 26 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012

■ Alan Ladd was one of the great film stars of the Golden Years of Hollywood.

He became one of the popular ‘tough guy’ actors and appeared in about 95 films during his career.

Alan Walbridge Ladd was born in Hot Springs, Arkansas, in 1913. His father died when Alan was only four.

His mother moved with her son to Oklahoma where she married a housepainter and eventually the family re-located to California.

Alan was about five foot six inches tall and was given the nickname ‘Tiny’ in his teenage years but he was a very handsome young man with a remarkable speaking voice.

He appeared in school plays and was an active sportsman. In the early 1930s Alan got small jobs in radio shows and then did ‘bit parts’ in films.

He supported himself by opening a hamburger stand which he called ‘Tiny's Patio’.

Alan married Marjorie Harrold in 1936 and their son Alan Ladd Jnr was born in 1937. He is a famous film executive and producer these days and was responsible for approving production of the film Star Wars.

Alan Ladd began getting speaking parts in films during the early 1940s and his voice can be clearly heard as one of the ‘faceless reporters’ in the Orson Welles film Citizen Kane.

Alan was divorced in 1941 and married his agent Sue Carol the following year.

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Whatever Happened To ...

Alan Ladd

By Kevin Trask of 3AW and 96.5 Inner FM His ‘break through’ role came when he starred opposite Veronica Lake in This Gun for Hire.

Alan played a ‘hit man’ with a conscience and this role virtually took him from being a small time bit player to a major international star.

His next films The Glass Key, Lucky Jordan and The Blue Dahlia were all box office hits.

In 1948 Alan started his very successful radio series Box 13 where he played the reporter Dan Holiday.

He was cast in the lead role in the film The Great Gatsby in 1949. The film he is most remembered for came in 1953 when he played the title role in Shane opposite Jean Arthur, Van Heflin, Brandon De Wilde and Jack Palance.

● Alan Ladd The simple line delivered by Brandon De Wilde as Shane rides away, "Shane. Come back!" has become one of the most famous lines in cinema history.

Most film buffs regard Shane as a classic and it was nominated for five Academy Awards.

I know many of our readers are fans of Alan

Ladd and recently Tommy Dysart demonstrated to me the unique way that Alan Ladd had of walking down a staircase.

The best remembered films of Alan Ladd include Saigon, Two Years Before The Mast, Appointment With Danger, Whispering Smith, Hell Below Zero and Boy On A Dolphin.

In 1955 he made a film with June Alyson and they fell in love but it is said that the breakdown of the affair led to his depression in later years.

In 1964 Alan Ladd was found dead in Palm Springs due to an overdose of pills and alcohol at the age of 50.

He had completed work on his final screen role in The Carpetbaggers but did not live to see the film. He was survived by his wife Sue and three children.

In a 1961 interview Alan Ladd was asked, "What would you change about yourself if you could?"

He replied, "Everything."

The fact remains that his work in films has given great enjoyment to his legion of fans throughout the world.

Kevin Trask The Time Tunnel - with Bruce & PhilSundays at 8.20pm on 3AW That's Entertainment - 96.5FM Sundays at Noon 96.5FM is streaming on the internet.

To listen, go to www.innerfm.org.au and follow the prompts.

GROWING OLD DISGRACEFULLY

■ My greatest ecological issue in Central Australia was always buffel grass.

This noxious weed had been introduced into Australia in the saddles of Afghan cameleers and it spread from there.

It grows luxuriantly in the desert, especially after a good dump of rain.

In fact, some pastoralists have encouraged it and plant it, because although cattle are not overly fond of it, they will eat it, and it grows so abundantly that it can cover countless acres of their grazing areas.

The main problem is that it grows so prolifically and aggressively that it chokes most of the native grasses which timidly exist in the same area.

They are not accustomed to such competition, so most of them just give up the ghost and disappear, leaving the ferocious buffel to thrive on its own.

To add to this, when it does eventually die off it may well be nudging a couple of metres tall, and upon catching fire, burns ferociously, and at a very high temperature, of so this once again wipes out all the competition.

So it doesn't do the environment any good at all, and just promotes a barren desert with nothing else growing there.

But it's not content with that - its roots lurk dormant just below the surface, and as soon as rain falls again, it leaps into life to further its evil work.

It's now spreading south, to South Australia’s dismay.

■ In October 1950 Albert Namatjira was interviewed by the Centralian Advocate.

He wanted "full citizenship rights".

But ,,, "He believes that some of his people are entitled to it, but he's frightened at the thought of what would happen if some in the town areas were given this freedom. They would drink liquor like water".

Alas, it appears, 60 years later, that his remark was all too prescient!

All too often the demon drink just overwhelms people.

Police attended Indampa camp last week to investigate a domestic disturbance.

One officer was attacked, being punched repeatedly in the head and face, and being bitten in the thigh and groin region.

The offender then attacked him

The Outback Legend

with Nick Le Souef Lightning Ridge Opals 175 Flinders Lane, Melbourne Phone 9654 4444 www.opals.net.au with a broom, and tried to steal his capsicum spray, which he had been doused with. He was finally tasered.

The drink also impaired another man's judgment.

He had just received his L-plates, and a new car, so he decided to celebrate these events.

Silly move!

His reading was 0.153, so he won't be enjoying his new car or his licence anytime soon!

■ I recall having once read of an Aboriginal leader who was lamenting the state of affairs of her people.

"We're never going to get anywhere, improve our life, until we stop blaming everyone else for our shortcomings, and start taking some responsibility for ourselves".

This was a few years ago, and I can't recall who the lady was, but now the Northern Territory's Indigenous Advancement Minister, Allison Anderson, herself Aboriginal, has made a comment in a similar vein in the NT Parliament.

She said she despaired at the Aboriginal "reluctance to work".

She noted that indigenous But the behavioural and environTerritorians experienced welfare demental and social grounding of the first pendency, which just expected govdecade would last for life. ernments to do everything for them.

And I compared this with the plight She also noted that there was a mine of the poor little Aboriginal kids I see operating at Nhulunbuy, which just running around the streets of Alice required a 20-km drive from the comSprings. munity of Yirrkala for the men to earn Unwashed and unkempt and excellent money. uncared for, and hungry. Their houses "The rest of Australia has been tryare often filled with dozens of drunken ing to understand why a long-running and screaming and fighting relatives, mining boom can exist literally next and mum and dad are often too drunk door to a culture of entitlement and to know of their offsprings' wherewelfare dependency". abouts. This influence also lives with My mate Danny Colson, a full them throughout their own lives. blown Pit elder, and a Stolen GeneraLast week there was a situation tion to boot, once said to me, when whereby a 70-year-old man from speaking of Pauline Hanson: "I'm her Queensland, in town seeking employgreatest fan - she's trying to eradicate ment, was asleep in his car. ● Albert Namatjira welfare dependency, which is destroyThree young individuals "of Abwere being taught manners and so- original appearance" dragged him out ing my people!" cial graces, and this situation would at 2am. They bashed him unconscious ■ Most leather-clad Harley Davidson last until at least the age of about 12, and then stole the vehicle. riders I see burbling their way around when they began to think about these I wonder what their childhood was town have ‘Rebels’ or ‘Hell's Angels’ things for themselves and would de- like. or some-such emblazoned on their velop their own individual lifelong per- Nick Le Souef sonalities. back.

‘The Outback Legend’ But every so often there is a different ‘patch’ wheeling its way around.

From The Outer ‘Ulysses’.

Upon closer inspection, they suggest: "Grow Old Disgracefully"!

These are the 40 plusers who love riding their Harleys, that don't necessarily want to be closely involved with their "1 per cent outlaw" colleagues.

Melbourne So they just tootle about with their flowing locks and their beards, and kojak@ often their beer guts, and enjoy the mmnet.com.au wind in their hair.

I have often encountered a few of With John Pasquarelli them in a group puttering around along ■ The 'Welcome To Country' ceremonies are over-orchestrated, the Stuart Highway, but in 2014 it's over-commercialised and irritating to many mainstream Australians just been organised that 4000 of them who find themselves berated by the politically correct if they dare will descend upon Alice. protest.

It's the club's 31st AGM, and it will There are hypocrisies both sides of the fence with Aboriginal ownbe a weeklong event. ership often challenged by opposing tribal groups and They'll spend about $10m while acknowledgement of ownership made by local government counthey're in town, which will please all cils, the AFL and other bodies without any form of remuneration such and sundry! as rents, leases or sharing of titles.

Most of them will probably be Words are indeed cheap and one wonders the outcome if white camping, and they'll take over and black activists demanded that the AFL share its titles?

Blatherskite Park for this purpose.

Too many Aboriginal Australians live separated and disadvanI reckon it's a worthy ideal - growtaged from the mainstream - due to the crazy separatist policies of the ing old disgracefully! past and present as well as lunacies like teaching English to Aboriginal kids as a second language.

■ I recently attended a grandparent's Cosmetic gestures like 'Welcome To Country' do nothing to alleviday at my granddaughters school. ate the problems confronting many Aborigines and the sooner Bess She politely took us around to show Price and Alison Anderson are listened to in Canberra the better. us everything, as did her fellow 7-yearPowerful remnants of the Aboriginal Industry still exist as Andrew old classmates with their own Bolt well knows. Too many of our MPs and other public figures luxu"grandees". riate in saying 'sorry' but let's see them get off the bitumen and visit I noted that these kids were all beand work in Aboriginal settlements as does Tony Abbott. ing raised in peaceful households,1

Observer

Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012 - Page 27

Observer Classic Books

Les Misérables by Victor Hugo CHAPTER viii THE UNPLEASANTNESS OF RECEIVING INTO ONE’S HOUSE A POOR MAN WHO MAY BE A RICH MAN Continued from Last Week All she had on was hole-ridden linen, not a scrap of woollen. Her skin was visible here and there and everywhere black and blue spots could be descried, which marked the places where the Thenardier woman had touched her. Her naked legs were thin and red. The hollows in her neck were enough to make one weep. This child’s whole person, her mien, her attitude, the sound of her voice, the intervals which she allowed to elapse between one word and the next, her glance, her silence, her slightest gesture, expressed and betrayed one sole idea,— fear.

Fear was diffused all over her; she was covered with it, so to speak; fear drew her elbows close to her hips, withdrew her heels under her petticoat, made her occupy as little space as possible, allowed her only the breath that was absolutely necessary, and had become what might be called the habit of her body, admitting of no possible variation except an increase. In the depths of her eyes there was an astonished nook where terror lurked.

Her fear was such, that on her arrival, wet as she was, Cosette did not dare to approach the fire and dry herself, but sat silently down to her work again.

The expression in the glance of that child of eight years was habitually so gloomy, and at times so tragic, that it seemed at certain moments as though she were on the verge of becoming an idiot or a demon.

As we have stated, she had never known what it is to pray; she had never set foot in a church.

“Have I the time?” said the Thenardier.

The man in the yellow coat never took his eyes from Cosette.

All at once, the Thenardier exclaimed:— “By the way, where’s that bread?”

Cosette, according to her custom whenever the Thenardier uplifted her voice, emerged with great haste from beneath the table.

She had completely forgotten the bread. She had recourse to the expedient of children who live in a constant state of fear. She lied.

“Madame, the baker’s shop was shut.”

“You should have knocked.”

“I did knock, Madame.”

“Well?”

“He did not open the door.”

“I’ll find out tomorrow whether that is true,” said the Thenardier; “and if you are telling me a lie, I’ll lead you a pretty dance. In the meantime, give me back my fifteen-sou piece.”

Cosette plunged her hand into the pocket of her apron, and turned green. The fifteen-sou piece was not there.

“Ah, come now,” said Madame Thenardier, “did you hear me?”

Cosette turned her pocket inside out; there was nothing in it. What could have become of that money? The unhappy little creature could not find a word to say. She was petrified.

“Have you lost that fifteen-sou piece?” screamed the Thenardier, hoarsely, “or do you want to rob me of it?”

At the same time, she stretched out her arm towards the cat-o’-nine-tails which hung on a nail in the chimney-corner.

This formidable gesture restored to Cosette sufficient strength to shriek:— “Mercy, Madame, Madame! I will not do so any more!”

The Thenardier took down the whip.

In the meantime, the man in the yellow coat had been fumbling in the fob of his waistcoat, without any one having noticed his movements. Besides, the other travellers were drinking or playing cards, and were not paying attention to anything.

Cosette contracted herself into a ball, with anguish, within the angle of the chimney, endeavoring to gather up and conceal her poor halfnude limbs. The Thenardier raised her arm.

“Pardon me, Madame,” said the man, “but just now I caught sight of something which had fallen from this little one’s apron pocket, and rolled

● Victor Hugo aside. Perhaps this is it.”

At the same time he bent down and seemed to be searching on the floor for a moment.

“Exactly; here it is,” he went on, straightening himself up.

And he held out a silver coin to the Thenardier.

“Yes, that’s it,” said she.

It was not it, for it was a twenty-sou piece; but the Thenardier found it to her advantage. She put the coin in her pocket, and confined herself to casting a fierce glance at the child, accompanied with the remark, “Don’t let this ever happen again!”

Cosette returned to what the Thenardier called “her kennel,” and her large eyes, which were riveted on the traveller, began to take on an expression such as they had never worn before.

Thus far it was only an innocent amazement, but a sort of stupefied confidence was mingled with it.

“By the way, would you like some supper?” the Thenardier inquired of the traveller.

He made no reply. He appeared to be absorbed in thought.

“What sort of a man is that?” she muttered between her teeth. “He’s some frightfully poor wretch. He hasn’t a sou to pay for a supper. Will he even pay me for his lodging? It’s very lucky, all the same, that it did not occur to him to steal the money that was on the floor.”

In the meantime, a door had opened, and Eponine and Azelma entered.

They were two really pretty little girls, more bourgeois than peasant in looks, and very charming; the one with shining chestnut tresses, the other with long black braids hanging down her back, both vivacious, neat, plump, rosy, and healthy, and a delight to the eye. They were warmly clad, but with so much maternal art that the thickness of the stuffs did not detract from the coquetry of arrangement. There was a hint of winter, though the springtime was not wholly effaced. Light emanated from these two little beings. Besides this, they were on the throne. In their toilettes, in their gayety, in the noise which

they made, there was sovereignty. When they entered, the Thenardier said to them in a grumbling tone which was full of adoration, “Ah! there you are, you children!”

Then drawing them, one after the other to her knees, smoothing their hair, tying their ribbons afresh, and then releasing them with that gentle manner of shaking off which is peculiar to mothers, she exclaimed, “What frights they are!”

They went and seated themselves in the chimney-corner. They had a doll, which they turned over and over on their knees with all sorts of joyous chatter. From time to time Cosette raised her eyes from her knitting, and watched their play with a melancholy air.

Eponine and Azelma did not look at Cosette.

She was the same as a dog to them. These three little girls did not yet reckon up four and twenty years between them, but they already represented the whole society of man; envy on the one side, disdain on the other.

The doll of the Thenardier sisters was very much faded, very old, and much broken; but it seemed none the less admirable to Cosette, who had never had a doll in her life, a real doll, to make use of the expression which all children will understand.

All at once, the Thenardier, who had been going back and forth in the room, perceived that Cosette’s mind was distracted, and that, instead of working, she was paying attention to the little ones at their play.

“Ah! I’ve caught you at it!” she cried. “So that’s the way you work! I’ll make you work to the tune of the whip; that I will.”

The stranger turned to the Thenardier, without quitting his chair.

“Bah, Madame,” he said, with an almost timid air, “let her play!”

Such a wish expressed by a traveller who had eaten a slice of mutton and had drunk a couple of bottles of wine with his supper, and who had not the air of being frightfully poor, would have been equivalent to an order. But that a man with such a hat should permit himself such a desire,

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and that a man with such a coat should permit himself to have a will, was something which Madame Thenardier did not intend to tolerate.

She retorted with acrimony:— “She must work, since she eats. I don’t feed her to do nothing.”

“What is she making?” went on the stranger, in a gentle voice which contrasted strangely with his beggarly garments and his porter’s shoulders.

The Thenardier deigned to reply:— “Stockings, if you please. Stockings for my little girls, who have none, so to speak, and who are absolutely barefoot just now.”

The man looked at Cosette’s poor little red feet, and continued:— “When will she have finished this pair of stockings?”

“She has at least three or four good days’ work on them still, the lazy creature!”

“And how much will that pair of stockings be worth when she has finished them?”

The Thenardier cast a glance of disdain on him.

“Thirty sous at least.”

“Will you sell them for five francs?” went on the man.

“Good heavens!” exclaimed a carter who was listening, with a loud laugh; “five francs! the deuce, I should think so! five balls!”

Thenardier thought it time to strike in.

“Yes, sir; if such is your fancy, you will be allowed to have that pair of stockings for five francs. We can refuse nothing to travellers.”

“You must pay on the spot,” said the Thenardier, in her curt and peremptory fashion.

“I will buy that pair of stockings,” replied the man, “and,” he added, drawing a five-franc piece from his pocket, and laying it on the table, “I will pay for them.”

Then he turned to Cosette.

“Now I own your work; play, my child.”

The carter was so much touched by the fivefranc piece, that he abandoned his glass and hastened up.

“But it’s true!” he cried, examining it. “A real hind wheel! and not counterfeit!”

Thenardier approached and silently put the coin in his pocket.

The Thenardier had no reply to make. She bit her lips, and her face assumed an expression of hatred.

In the meantime, Cosette was trembling. She ventured to ask:— “Is it true, Madame? May I play?”

“Play!” said the Thenardier, in a terrible voice.

“Thanks, Madame,” said Cosette.

And while her mouth thanked the Thenardier, her whole little soul thanked the traveller.

Thenardier had resumed his drinking; his wife whispered in his ear:— “Who can this yellow man be?”

“I have seen millionaires with coats like that,” replied Thenardier, in a sovereign manner.

Cosette had dropped her knitting, but had not left her seat. Cosette always moved as little as possible. She picked up some old rags and her little lead sword from a box behind her.

Eponine and Azelma paid no attention to what was going on. They had just executed a very important operation; they had just got hold of the cat. They had thrown their doll on the ground, and Eponine, who was the elder, was swathing the little cat, in spite of its mewing and its contortions, in a quantity of clothes and red and blue scraps. While performing this serious and difficult work she was saying to her sister in that sweet and adorable language of children, whose grace, like the splendor of the butterfly’s wing, vanishes when one essays to fix it fast.

“You see, sister, this doll is more amusing than the other. She twists, she cries, she is warm.

See, sister, let us play with her. She shall be my little girl. I will be a lady. I will come to see you, and you shall look at her. Gradually, you will perceive her whiskers, and that will surprise you.

And then you will see her ears, and then you will see her tail and it will amaze you. And you will say to me, ‘Ah! Mon Dieu!’ and I will say to you: ‘Yes, Madame, it is my little girl. Little girls are made like that just at present.’”

Azelma listened admiringly to Eponine.

In the meantime, the drinkers had begun to sing

Continued on Page 28

Page 28 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Observer Classic Books From Page 27 “Monsieur,” said she. At this word, Monsieur, the man turned; up to that time, the Thenardier had addressed him only as brave homme or bonhomme.

“You see, sir,” she pursued, assuming a sweetish air that was even more repulsive to behold than her fierce mien, “I am willing that the child should play; I do not oppose it, but it is good for once, because you are generous. You see, she has nothing; she must needs work.”

“Then this child is not yours?” demanded the man.

“Oh! mon Dieu! no, sir! she is a little beggar whom we have taken in through charity; a sort of imbecile child. She must have water on the brain; she has a large head, as you see. We do what we can for her, for we are not rich; we have written in vain to her native place, and have received no reply these six months. It must be that her mother is dead.”

“Ah!” said the man, and fell into his revery once more.

“Her mother didn’t amount to much,” added the Thenardier; “she abandoned her child.”

During the whole of this conversation Cosette, as though warned by some instinct that she was under discussion, had not taken her eyes from the Thenardier’s face; she listened vaguely; she caught a few words here and there.

Meanwhile, the drinkers, all three-quarters intoxicated, were repeating their unclean refrain with redoubled gayety; it was a highly spiced and wanton song, in which the Virgin and the infant Jesus were introduced. The Thenardier went off to take part in the shouts of laughter.

Cosette, from her post under the table, gazed at the fire, which was reflected from her fixed eyes. She had begun to rock the sort of baby which she had made, and, as she rocked it, she sang in a low voice, “My mother is dead! my mother is dead! my mother is dead!”

On being urged afresh by the hostess, the yellow man, “the millionaire,” consented at last to take supper.

“What does Monsieur wish?”

“Bread and cheese,” said the man.

“Decidedly, he is a beggar” thought Madame Thenardier.

The drunken men were still singing their song, and the child under the table was singing hers.

All at once, Cosette paused; she had just turned round and caught sight of the little Thenardiers’ doll, which they had abandoned for the cat and had left on the floor a few paces from the kitchen table.

Then she dropped the swaddled sword, which only half met her needs, and cast her eyes slowly round the room. Madame Thenardier was whispering to her husband and counting over some money; Ponine and Zelma were playing with the cat; the travellers were eating or drinking or singing; not a glance was fixed on her. She had not a moment to lose; she crept out from under the table on her hands and knees, made sure once more that no one was watching her; then she slipped quickly up to the doll and seized it.

An instant later she was in her place again, seated motionless, and only turned so as to cast a shadow on the doll which she held in her arms.

The happiness of playing with a doll was so rare for her that it contained all the violence of voluptuousness.

No one had seen her, except the traveller, who was slowly devouring his meagre supper.

This joy lasted about a quarter of an hour.

But with all the precautions that Cosette had taken she did not perceive that one of the doll’s legs stuck out and that the fire on the hearth lighted it up very vividly. That pink and shining foot, projecting from the shadow, suddenly struck the eye of Azelma, who said to Eponine, “Look! sister.”

The two little girls paused in stupefaction; Cosette had dared to take their doll!

Eponine rose, and, without releasing the cat, she ran to her mother, and began to tug at her skirt.

“Let me alone!” said her mother; “what do you want?”

“Mother,” said the child, “look there!”

And she pointed to Cosette.

Cosette, absorbed in the ecstasies of possession, no longer saw or heard anything.

Madame Thenardier’s countenance assumed that peculiar expression which is composed of the terrible mingled with the trifles of life, and which has caused this style of woman to be named megaeras.

On this occasion, wounded pride exasperated her wrath still further. Cosette had overstepped

all bounds; Cosette had laid violent hands on the doll belonging to “these young ladies.” A czarina who should see a muzhik trying on her imperial son’s blue ribbon would wear no other face.

She shrieked in a voice rendered hoarse with indignation:— “Cosette!”

Cosette started as though the earth had trembled beneath her; she turned round.

“Cosette!” repeated the Thenardier.

Cosette took the doll and laid it gently on the floor with a sort of veneration, mingled with despair; then, without taking her eyes from it, she clasped her hands, and, what is terrible to relate of a child of that age, she wrung them; then — not one of the emotions of the day, neither the trip to the forest, nor the weight of the bucket of water, nor the loss of the money, nor the sight of the whip, nor even the sad words which she had heard Madame Thenardier utter had been able to wring this from her — she wept; she burst out sobbing.

Meanwhile, the traveller had risen to his feet.

“What is the matter?” he said to the Thenardier.

“Don’t you see?” said the Thenardier, pointing to the corpus delicti which lay at Cosette’s feet.

“Well, what of it?” resumed the man.

“That beggar,” replied the Thenardier, “has permitted herself to touch the children’s doll!”

“All this noise for that!” said the man; “well, what if she did play with that doll?”

“She touched it with her dirty hands!” pursued the Thenardier, “with her frightful hands!”

Here Cosette redoubled her sobs.

“Will you stop your noise?” screamed the Thenardier.

The man went straight to the street door, opened it, and stepped out.

As soon as he had gone, the Thenardier profited by his absence to give Cosette a hearty kick under the table, which made the child utter loud cries.

The door opened again, the man re-appeared; he carried in both hands the fabulous doll which we have mentioned, and which all the village brats had been staring at ever since the morning, and he set it upright in front of Cosette, saying:— “Here; this is for you.”

It must be supposed that in the course of the hour and more which he had spent there he had taken confused notice through his revery of that toy shop, lighted up by fire-pots and candles so splendidly that it was visible like an illumination through the window of the drinking-shop.

Cosette raised her eyes; she gazed at the man approaching her with that doll as she might have gazed at the sun; she heard the unprecedented words, “It is for you”; she stared at him; she stared at the doll; then she slowly retreated, and hid herself at the extreme end, under the table in a corner of the wall.

She no longer cried; she no longer wept; she had the appearance of no longer daring to breathe.

The Thenardier, Eponine, and Azelma were like statues also; the very drinkers had paused; a solemn silence reigned through the whole room.

Madame Thenardier, petrified and mute, recommenced her conjectures: “Who is that old fellow? Is he a poor man? Is he a millionaire?

Perhaps he is both; that is to say, a thief.”

The face of the male Thenardier presented that expressive fold which accentuates the human countenance whenever the dominant instinct appears there in all its bestial force. The tavernkeeper stared alternately at the doll and at the traveller; he seemed to be scenting out the man, as he would have scented out a bag of money.

This did not last longer than the space of a flash of lightning. He stepped up to his wife and said to her in a low voice:— “That machine costs at least thirty francs. No nonsense. Down on your belly before that man!”

Gross natures have this in common with naive natures, that they possess no transition state.

“Well, Cosette,” said the Thenardier, in a voice that strove to be sweet, and which was composed of the bitter honey of malicious women, “aren’t you going to take your doll?”

Cosette ventured to emerge from her hole.

“The gentleman has given you a doll, my little Cosette,” said Thenardier, with a caressing air.

“Take it; it is yours.”

Cosette gazed at the marvellous doll in a sort of terror. Her face was still flooded with tears, but her eyes began to fill, like the sky at daybreak, with strange beams of joy. What she felt at that moment was a little like what she would have

felt if she had been abruptly told, “Little one, you are the Queen of France.”

It seemed to her that if she touched that doll, lightning would dart from it.

This was true, up to a certain point, for she said to herself that the Thenardier would scold and beat her.

Nevertheless, the attraction carried the day. She ended by drawing near and murmuring timidly as she turned towards Madame Thenardier:— “May I, Madame?”

No words can render that air, at once despairing, terrified, and ecstatic.

“Pardi!” cried the Thenardier, “it is yours. The gentleman has given it to you.”

“Truly, sir?” said Cosette. “Is it true? Is the ‘lady’ mine?”

The stranger’s eyes seemed to be full of tears.

He appeared to have reached that point of emotion where a man does not speak for fear lest he should weep. He nodded to Cosette, and placed the “lady’s” hand in her tiny hand.

Cosette hastily withdrew her hand, as though that of the “lady” scorched her, and began to stare at the floor. We are forced to add that at that moment she stuck out her tongue immoderately. All at once she wheeled round and seized the doll in a transport.

“I shall call her Catherine,” she said.

It was an odd moment when Cosette’s rags met and clasped the ribbons and fresh pink muslins of the doll.

“Madame,” she resumed, “may I put her on a chair?”

“Yes, my child,” replied the Thenardier.

It was now the turn of Eponine and Azelma to gaze at Cosette with envy.

Cosette placed Catherine on a chair, then seated herself on the floor in front of her, and remained motionless, without uttering a word, in an attitude of contemplation.

“Play, Cosette,” said the stranger.

“Oh! I am playing,” returned the child.

This stranger, this unknown individual, who had the air of a visit which Providence was making on Cosette, was the person whom the Thenardier hated worse than any one in the world at that moment. However, it was necessary to control herself. Habituated as she was to dissimulation through endeavoring to copy her husband in all his actions, these emotions were more than she could endure. She made haste to send her daughters to bed, then she asked the man’s permission to send Cosette off also; “for she has worked hard all day,” she added with a maternal air.

Cosette went off to bed, carrying Catherine in her arms.

From time to time the Thenardier went to the other end of the room where her husband was, to relieve her soul, as she said. She exchanged with her husband words which were all the more furious because she dared not utter them aloud.

“Old beast! What has he got in his belly, to come and upset us in this manner! To want that little monster to play! to give away forty-franc dolls to a jade that I would sell for forty sous, so I would! A little more and he will be saying Your Majesty to her, as though to the Duchess de Berry! Is there any sense in it? Is he mad, then, that mysterious old fellow?”

“Why! it is perfectly simple,” replied Thenardier, “if that amuses him! It amuses you to have the little one work; it amuses him to have her play.

He’s all right. A traveller can do what he pleases when he pays for it. If the old fellow is a philanthropist, what is that to you? If he is an imbecile, it does not concern you. What are you worrying for, so long as he has money?”

The language of a master, and the reasoning of an innkeeper, neither of which admitted of any reply.

The man had placed his elbows on the table, and resumed his thoughtful attitude. All the other travellers, both pedlers and carters, had withdrawn a little, and had ceased singing. They were staring at him from a distance, with a sort of respectful awe. This poorly dressed man, who drew “hind-wheels” from his pocket with so much ease, and who lavished gigantic dolls on dirty little brats in wooden shoes, was certainly a magnificent fellow, and one to be feared.

Many hours passed. The midnight mass was over, the chimes had ceased, the drinkers had taken their departure, the drinking-shop was closed, the public room was deserted, the fire extinct, the stranger still remained in the same place and the same attitude. From time to time he changed the elbow on which he leaned. That was all; but he had not said a word since Cosette had left the room.

The Thenardiers alone, out of politeness and curiosity, had remained in the room.

“Is he going to pass the night in that fashion?” grumbled the Thenardier. When two o’clock in the morning struck, she declared herself vanquished, and said to her husband, “I’m going to bed. Do as you like.” Her husband seated himself at a table in the corner, lighted a candle, and began to read the Courrier Francais.

A good hour passed thus. The worthy inn-keeper had perused the Courrier Francais at least three times, from the date of the number to the printer’s name. The stranger did not stir.

Thenardier fidgeted, coughed, spit, blew his nose, and creaked his chair. Not a movement on the man’s part. “Is he asleep?” thought Thenardier. The man was not asleep, but nothing could arouse him.

At last Thenardier took off his cap, stepped gently up to him, and ventured to say:— “Is not Monsieur going to his repose?”

Not going to bed would have seemed to him excessive and familiar. To repose smacked of luxury and respect. These words possess the mysterious and admirable property of swelling the bill on the following day. A chamber where one sleeps costs twenty sous; a chamber in which one reposes costs twenty francs.

“Well!” said the stranger, “you are right. Where is your stable?”

“Sir!” exclaimed Thenardier, with a smile, “I will conduct you, sir.”

He took the candle; the man picked up his bundle and cudgel, and Thenardier conducted him to a chamber on the first floor, which was of rare splendor, all furnished in mahogany, with a low bedstead, curtained with red calico.

“What is this?” said the traveller.

“It is really our bridal chamber,” said the tavern-keeper. “My wife and I occupy another. This is only entered three or four times a year.”

“I should have liked the stable quite as well,” said the man, abruptly.

Thenardier pretended not to hear this unamiable remark.

He lighted two perfectly fresh wax candles which figured on the chimney-piece. A very good fire was flickering on the hearth.

On the chimney-piece, under a glass globe, stood a woman’s head-dress in silver wire and orange flowers.

“And what is this?” resumed the stranger.

“That, sir,” said Thenardier, “is my wife’s wedding bonnet.”

The traveller surveyed the object with a glance which seemed to say, “There really was a time, then, when that monster was a maiden?”

Thenardier lied, however. When he had leased this paltry building for the purpose of converting it into a tavern, he had found this chamber decorated in just this manner, and had purchased the furniture and obtained the orange flowers at second hand, with the idea that this would cast a graceful shadow on “his spouse,” and would result in what the English call respectability for his house.

When the traveller turned round, the host had disappeared. Thenardier had withdrawn discreetly, without venturing to wish him a good night, as he did not wish to treat with disrespectful cordiality a man whom he proposed to fleece royally the following morning.

The inn-keeper retired to his room. His wife was in bed, but she was not asleep. When she heard her husband’s step she turned over and said to him:— “Do you know, I’m going to turn Cosette out of doors tomorrow.”

Thenardier replied coldly:— “How you do go on!”

They exchanged no further words, and a few moments later their candle was extinguished.

As for the traveller, he had deposited his cudgel and his bundle in a corner. The landlord once gone, he threw himself into an arm-chair and remained for some time buried in thought. Then he removed his shoes, took one of the two candles, blew out the other, opened the door, and quitted the room, gazing about him like a person who is in search of something. He traversed a corridor and came upon a staircase.

There he heard a very faint and gentle sound like the breathing of a child. He followed this sound, and came to a sort of triangular recess built under the staircase, or rather formed by the staircase itself. This recess was nothing else than the space under the steps.

To Be Continued Next Week

Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012 - Page 29

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Places To Go

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Page 30 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Places To Go

Come and enjoy the wonderful events at

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Christmas Day Luncheon December 25

Boutique Accommodation

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012 - Page 31

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Places To Go

EILDON Resort 515 Goulburn Valley Hwy, Eildon Ph: (03) 5774 2415 Fax: (03) 574 2716

N E P O YS A D 7

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Page 32 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012

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Places To Go

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012 - Page 33

Travel Extra Travel Beat the School Holiday rush: WINTER WONDER:

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Page 34 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012

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SEAMARK ON FIRST

in the heart of the Sunshine Coast

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PHONE FOR OUR SPECIALS

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012 - Page 35

Travel Extra

Currumbin Sands Apartments

Stay 4, Pay for 3 Nights Stay 7, Pay for 5 Nights May - until June 24 Currumbin Sands holiday apartments are uniquely positioned on absolute beachfront at Palm Beach adjacent to the Currumbin Estuary. There are no roads to cross to the beach and here you can relax and enjoy the ultimate Gold Coast accommodation holiday apartment on the beachfront.

At Currumbin Sands you can surf the local point break at the Alley, watch the kids swim in the calm waters of the creek, fish along the quiet river bank, walk barefoot together along the ocean beach and make lasting memories.

The Currumbin Sands resort itself enjoys a very high repeat booking rate with loyal guests coming back year after year. This family friendly three story complex offers generous 1,2 and 3 bedroom apartment sizes with a variety of pool, garden, river or beach views from each individual apartment.

Guests have key access to the private

Fact File

ShowBiz Social Club At Bentleigh Club Monday night (Oct. 22) Photos: Gigi Hellmuth

NAME: Currumbin Sands Apartments ADDRESS: 955 Gold Coast Hwy, Palm Beach, Qld 4221 PHONE: (07) 5525 5000 FAX: (07) 5525 5099 CONTACT: Sherryl Stack WEB: www.currumbinsands.com.au E-MAIL: info@currumbinsands.com.au grounds, the secure onsite parking underground, and to two separate swimming pool areas. The buildings are all set in tropical landscaped gardens features waterfalls and a brook.

Page 36 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012

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Travel Extra

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012 - Page 37

Victoria Pictorial

Mornington Peninsula Western Port

● Dromana Hotel

● Sorrento Front Beach

● Flinders Pier

● Stony Point Pier

● ‘Merlswood’, former post office, Tankerton Rd, French Island

● Crib Point Post Office

● Moorooduc Post Office

● Somerville Mechanics Institute

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Page 38 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012 Melbourne

Observer

Lovatts Crossword No 26 Across

Across

1. Hair-stylist 6. Straight-line racing car 11. Famous Indian mausoleum (3,5) 15. Nightclub dancer 20. ... kwon do 21. Labyrinths 22. Aegean or Caspian 23. Lahore is there 24. Mad Russian monk 25. NE Scottish seaport 27. Jumbo animal 28. Watering tube 29. Fixed gaze 31. World fair 32. Cruel person 36. Pins & ...

37. Prolong (4,3) 38. Checks (text) for errors 41. Renovate (ship) 44. Metal bar 45. Unfortunately 48. Sneeze noise (1-6) 49. Oddball 52. Rectangular 56. Addressing crowd 57. Anxious (2,4) 58. Perfumed burning stick 61. Goat's wool 62. Economises, ... & saves 63. Fibbing 64. Naomi Campbell is one 65. Imperial ruler 66. Collided with (3,4) 67. Disincentive 71. Absurd comedy 73. Of the ear 75. Windbag 80. Clarify, ... light on 82. Hone 83. Disobey 85. Gauges 86. Befuddles 88. Labourer's tools, pick & ...

90. Welcomes 91. British coin 93. Taking sides 94. Climbing plants 95. Female voices 96. Wither 97. Tingle 99. Mark as correct 100. Holy places 104. Rubbish 105. School maxim 106. Track down 107. Sent via Internet 111. The other way around, vice ...

113. Observe 114. The masses, ... polloi 115. Disorderly 117. Smear 118. Affirmative replies 121. Russian spirit 122. Mustard & ...

125. Canine disease 126. Shaving cut 127. Roman dress 129. Pulpy, soft food 131. Yoga master 132. Apprehension 135. Feng ...

136. Unplaced competitor (4-3) 139. Wild party 140. Representatives 144. Strangely 145. Scandinavian 146. Wall painting 147. Underwriters 148. Glared

149. Gallows rope 150. Group of eight 152. Hang loosely 154. Flog 157. Fluid unit 158. Minutest 162. Iran's neighbour 163. Exhausts supply of (4,2) 166. Porridge cereal 167. Pour with rain 169. Slow down!

171. Car pioneer, Karl ...

172. Tobacco user 173. Leers 175. Lever (off) 176. Single 179. Swiss banking centre 180. Come to rest (3,2) 182. Liqueur, ... Maria 183. Towards stern 184. Blackboard stand 186. Negative 189. Harness-racing horse 190. Return (of symptoms) 191. Epic movie-maker, Cecil B De ...

192. Big Apple city (3,4) 196. 60s pop dance (2-2) 197. Dad 198. Heedful 199. Spend extravagantly 201. Not fit for consumption 202. Gloomier 203. Performing 204. Car-top luggage frame (4,4) 205. Worked hard 208. Guidance 210. Up to this time 211. Aquatic bird 212. Pragmatism 213. Vein of ore 215. Vending machine 219. Nimble 221. Small & efficient 223. Striped brown gem (5'1,3) 227. Biology or physics 228. Mummifies (corpse) 230. Donations 231. Scorch 232. Charts (course) (4,3) 233. Villain 234. Arrogant newcomer 238. Power outlet 239. Knit with hooked needle 240. Scratch 243. Eagle nests 246. Ancestry 247. Lease again 250. Naming words 251. Greek philosopher 253. Muddles (up) 256. Frequent visitor 257. Mischievous 258. Character 262. Manufacture 263. Florida's Key ...

266. Is in debt to 268. Citrus fruit 269. Surgical removal 270. Not enclosed (of land) 271. Ruling (monarch) 272. Decimal unit 273. Opinion surveys 274. Corroded, ... away at 275. Slyer 276. Supervised 277. Perseveres 278. Least

Down 1. Manages 2. Annoyed 3. Abstains from food 4. Salt Lake City state 5. Absconded (3,3) 7. Severely simple 8. Seedy conditions 9. Discharge 10. Talk wildly 11. Muscle rupture 12. Fire-resistant material 13. Of war 14. Country dance 15. Leaked slowly 16. Aura 17. Windscreen cleaner 18. Rocky Mountains state 19. Early guitars 24. Tenant's fee 26. Fish traps 30. Quarrel 33. Document bag, ... case 34. Evoke 35. Cavalryman 38. Triangular-sided building 39. Constantly busy (2,3,2) 40. Learn (4,3) 42. Great ages 43. Charges with crime 46. Furiously 47. Beliefs 49. Properly nourished (4-3) 50. Frostier 51. Stray 53. Bewails 54. More mature 55. Biblical sea 59. Oil paintings 60. Skittles 67. Lowers (oneself) 68. Fishing boat 69. Ex-pupils' get-together 70. Invigorate 72. Residential locations 74. Score after deuce 76. Exposed 77. French N-Test region, ... Atoll 78. Rude 79. Pestered 81. Cargo door 84. Unnerves 87. Strong coffee 89. Nonconformists 91. Primitive 92. Japan's second largest city 98. Recording room 101. Restrict (3,2) 102. Asian cricketing nation 103. Flattened 108. Countless number 109. Saturate (with colour) 110. Turn inside-out 112. Remembered 116. Carpenters 119. Brightening up 120. Proper behaviour 123. Now Zimbabwean 124. Set apart 128. News-sheet 130. Ill-bred 132. Unfulfilled

Down

133. Inaccuracy 134. Songs for one 137. Actress, ... Sarandon 138. Scoundrel 141. Heredity units 142. Cosy corners 143. Clean with broom 151. Household jobs 153. Riddle 155. Hot & moist 156. Lower leg joint 159. Revealed (knowledge) 160. Foolishness 161. Inducting, ... in 164. Too soon 165. Open wound 168. Alienate 170. Unfashionable 173. Reverse 174. Giving university talk 177. Soundly constructed (4-5) 178. Worsened (of crisis) 181. Leaves uncared-for 185. Permitting 186. Liked 187. Retailers 188. Football umpire 193. Sun or rain 194. Acorn bearer (3,4) 195. Sing-along entertainment 200. Prayer beads 201. Official emblems 206. ... & lemons 207. Wear best clothes (5,2) 208. Human rights group, ... International 209. Modesty 211. Large pedal 214. Moral 216. Dip in liquid 217. Capers 218. Numerals 220. Conclude 222. Toadstools 224. Great joy 225. Questionable 226. Junior 229. Fully satisfy 232. Liquefy 235. Actress, ... Cruz 236. Straighter 237. Reaction 241. Changing booth 242. Picasso & Monet 244. Library patrons 245. Belongings, personal ...

248. More meagre 249. You 251. Walk with heavy steps 252. Turns away 253. Imitate 254. Father Christmas 255. Praise highly 259. Divine messenger 260. Combine 261. Roman VIII 262. Small tick 264. Unknown writer 265. Swallow noisily 267. Appear

Solution on Page 62

Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012 - Page 39

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Page 40 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012 - Page 41

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Christmas Guide

Think YOU can fill the jolly red suit?

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Page 42 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Christmas Buying Guide

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012 - Page 43

Christmas Buying Guide

Page 44 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012 - Page 45

Christmas Buying Guide

Page 46 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 21, 2012

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