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Press, 27 July 1976, Page 23

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CAI AMITS CORNER

It has been the lot of this column to record, down the years some of the misfortunes suffered by members of the species, because the man slipping on a banana skin is still a basic joke; but also because the victims have found it sufficiently funne, m retrospect, to tell us about it. But in al' the years this column has been a chronicle, it is unlikely that there has been a more spectacular record of mishaps than those suffered by an ageing gentleman in Halswell recently. He is a splendid chap, because he not only starts his day with "The Press," but is in the habit of clipping this column from it. to add to a large collection; a gentleman of discernment and erudition, clearly. He started this dreadful dav cheerfully, making his' wife breakfast — mushrooms from the freezer, bacon and eggs — and took it off to her, in bed. Off then for some gardening, after doing the

dishes. It was a chilly morning, so she stayed in bed for perhaps a couple of hours. When she arose, she found about 3in of water in the kitchen, the tide making steady progress, "O. into the carpeted dreas. He had left the sink beautifully clean, save for the plastic bag jammed in the plug hole — and the hot water tap on. When he came home, his wife had just about finished the mopping up, so he went off to the local for a game of euchre and a few beers, it was onie considerable time before he returned. At the back of his house he slipped and became cast between two oil drums he had been using in a concreting job. His wife heard a noise, but could neither see nor hear him and assumed he was still at the hotel. The poor man, slightly concussed, came to after a while, and tried to arise. He found he could just reach some spouting, and on this he heaved for leverage. Spouting isn’t

always what it was. He brought down 21ft of it. But with another struggle, he managed to latch his fingers on to the lip of one of the drums. That came over too. bringing w h it a deluge of cold water. But it revived him further and he managed to wriggle free. Inside, puffing and blowing, he tried to explain this cavalcade of calamity to his wife, and while he was doing that, he walked backwards, reaching for a hearing aid. He went over a chair and clean through the lounge window. This did him no good at all, and he had to be helped to bed. In the small hours of the morning he felt compelled to take anther short walk but on his return to bed felt terribly cold. A few hours later he woke feeling distinctly chilly and miserable, and was about to mention these matters to his dearly beloved, only to discover that she was not there. He had gone back to bed all right — but in the spare room.