The ODD ANGLE

Auckland Star, Volume LXXIV, Issue 213, 8 September 1943, Page 2

The ODD ANGLE

(By MacCLURE.) S THE REHABILITATION OP ALFRED Looking back, I think I could rightfully claim to have had more to do with the rehabilitation of Old Alfred after the last war than the (then) Government itself. Not that the old boy was much of a problem: he seemed to be only too darned pleased to be "back home" to bother much about "the doings." That, at any rate, was his first reaction. True, he was a bit sore over our late Majah's turning down his credit issue idea, but then, as I explained to him, there was nothing personal in this. "If you ask me that time we were A.W.O.L. in Boulogne has got something to do with it—he's got the makings of a nasty old man in him. Them's the jokers you want to watch don't get into Parliament." Digging up his old paybook, he examined the red lines in it, and, laying our overcoats on the hard floor, we dropped oil' to sleep to dream dreams of a new world in which a benevolent State would issue unlimited credit to all returned men— if only to coax them back again. © FROM THE CRADLE TO THE GRAVE Actually it was a little barber across "the road who solved our financial difficulties. "What sort of a shop are you going to open?" he asked, kindly-like, as he ran his eye over the stack of empty cases which we'd turned bottom side up and made a huge pretence of opening up in full view of the equally curious passing public. We'd caught a glimpse of his wife and we felt too sorry for the little feiiow to lie to him, so we explained that "our banker had held us up temporarylike," and that Ave Avere in a bit of a predicament. "You Avant to start in school-books— there's a fortune in them," he cor.fided. "They are changing them all the time. It's a racket, that's Avhat it is. I was only saying to my missus this morning: 'Humph, a free education from the cradle to the grave.' 'Well, you're getting it, ain't you?' she says, snappy-like. You can't put nothing over a mother Avhat's got 1-Jids going to school." © "EGGS-A-COOK" Dropping back later he deposited a sugar-sack full of obsolete French and Latin text-books on the counter. "The Avhole of my basement's full of 'em. You can have the lot for a dollar—and there's a million Boer War Aveeklies there too for the carting." We examined the latter curiously. "They ought to sell to felloAvs Avho've been to the Boer War," Alf admitted. "Full of pictures, too." And silverfish. "Me uncle was right through the Boer War Avith the City of London Imperial Volunteers—you've heard of the C.1.V., haven't you?" We hadn't, but the silverfish Avere choc-a-block full of the subject by all appearances. © INFLATION It Avas heart-breaking Avork, though, trying to unload those 20-year-back Boer War journals and those obsolete school books on to a Avar-weary Avorld. We made a feAV sales, hoAvever, each of Avhich Alf, in salesman-like style, rang up on the battered cash register which, after spending a whole night "servicing" and. giving a coat of aluminium paint, Avorked "in a Avay" and looked as if it, too, had been rehabilitated. True enough, to complete the actual "registering" process, which, I take it, is the real reason of their being, we had to smartly tap the keys of the register with a hammer, not too hard, though, as this persuasive method had a tendency to jam the keys. When Ave prised it open that first night, though, Ave got the shock of our lives, for, although Ave had only rung up a total of tAvo bob, the darn thing had registered tAvo Avhole pounds. I tried it Avith a bob, and sure enough it registered one pound. Alf, full of suspicion, turned it inside out, shaking it "in case." No surplus coinage came to light. It was a clear case of inflation. To Alf, though, it offered a proof of his argument. "Here's the solution to the world's problems," he exclaimed excitedly. "If the Government decided to call every shilling a pound, pay everybody quids and quids a day, in tAvo ticks the country Avould be a hive of industry; timber would roll into the sawmills, houses would go up overnight, pensions Avould be increased by at least another sevenpence." BroAvny, "our" banker, couldn't .see that Avay at all. He had to throAV a Avet blanket on the Avhole idea. "It's Avhat money Avill buy that counts—not Avhat one receives in Avages in money tokens," he argued. "What's the use of paying anyone a hundred pounds a week if it will only buy £5 worth—like that crazy registration scheme of yours—food and drink, house rent, the fundamental things of life " "Go away, you're breaking our hearts!" I said. But Ave both felt he Avas right at that.