POSTSCRIPTS

Evening Post, Volume CX, Issue 50, 27 August 1930, Page 8

POSTSCRIPTS

Chronicle and Comment

By PERCY FLAGE

Afterthought. The gramophone ia Willis street which on Monday played "Happy Days Are Here Again " must ibe a foundation member of the Good Morning Club.

According to Southern reports, thai keas, for, whose ' heads no more State blood-money will be offered, find sanctuary on Crown lands.—A flagrant cas# of political discrimination. i

Misplaced enthusiasm by a contem* porary: "An aeroplane has* been built with seats for sixteen, beds for four,' a kitchen with a refrigerator and full dining service. Now, if that isn't a castle in the air, what is?"— The sam« outfit plus a miniature golf course.

Explanation. The most important! letter in our mail to-day came from one who, while praising the column (with reservations),! deprecated what she de* scribed as our "seemingly cynical-out-look" on things.—We plead guilty, but add as a codicil extenuating circumstances. Our upstairs view takes ia Oriental Bay—a picture from which it is impossible to exclude tho destructor and the sign on the wireless, factory.

It was cabled yesterday that a gangster's small arms factory on rubbor tires had been captured by the police. The owner, who is ,out of the country, has a criminal record which includes five murders, and so far has spent on« mouth in gaol.—Justice in the State! i ,may travel slowly, but when it strike! it' strikes inexorably. • • • Aviation intelligence. "Lord Ava and his bride left in a two-seater aeroplane on their honeymoon." Loehinvar and his fair maid (As an elder, poet said) Pled upon his loping steed Ere her folks could intercede; Under sympathetic skies— Honeymooning pillion-wise. That was picturesque, but . . . Hark| Flying wheels along the dark Eoads the Northern oaks between— Roads that led to Gretna Green— Where the smith (whom lovers praiwjj Blesses, binds the runaways. Back in dear Victoria's time People sang a cheerful rhyme Of a certain love-lorn loon Who, for a swell honeymoon— One that She would really like— ' Promised Her a tandem bike. <,- But all that has changed, alas!. Now the lover and Ms lass (J£ they have sufficient cash) Gut a most inspiring dash . . , In an aeroplane for two Off they flash into the blue. * #. * Sections of our unemployed hvr4 followed up their demonstration at Parliament Buildings with one at the General Hospital. There is an unconfirmed rumour abroad to the effect that the next militant gesture will take place at the Old Men's Home, and that a reconnaissance is being carried out with a view to bringing the Plnnket Nursery into the sphere of operations. ... • ■ • • ■ ■ , Talking of gangsters. Those nonchalant fellows who take life easily: have invented a new lothal weapon in -. the shape of a fountain pen pistol. It is said to drip red ink. But the opposition, too, is smartening up. Experi-". ments are being made by the America* authorities with a miniature Lewis gun. strapped under the wearer's clothe* above the waist, When the gangster barks, "Hands up!" and ap they go, he is met by a stream of bullets apparently from the defence's solar plexus. As Scotland Yard has said: The element of surprise is most important.

Said the enterprising Hutt ;; To her neighbour: "Let us cut . Out all sectionalism . . . let'i Pool our assets (and our debts), Pool our great resources, so We may bigger, better grow , , To a city that will make •', Even Auckland stay awake Scheming how to hold the lead, V. And old Wellington give heed;" ..;; ; "Here's another reason. Look— ■ You have Nicholls, we have Cooks, What a fifteen we could strip For the local championship! ' Think of all the glorious fuss In the daily sheets for us, With the city's name—Let's _ seeHave we thought what that should bet Phutt . . . or Putt . . . or—-it can wait Until we amalgamate." And Petone, sitting pat, Answered. "Not so much of that*. We've the box seat, as you knowj Our reply is therefore' No'! ■-.., Most emph^ti-cally,'No'!" .

And at that we shall have to leaTß'tt for. the present. ~-■.' ♦ #. *!

Two bed-time tales for tired taxpayers. This one will cheer thorn up and congratulate themselves that they d» not live under the "model" Governor of Shansi (see .map of China). That gentleman has most successfully taxed his province into abject ruin and squalor.. It seems that he has levied to the limit on everything but dental gold crowns and funerals. There were over 500 bankruptcies in seven months in the capital of the province. Even criminals are called to pay what is called "additional tax," regardless oftheir offence. Things here are not yet quite as bad as that but —we could be better off, as for instance: The other day the Belgian Senate passed the Fiscal Beform Bill whicn means that from Ist January last the nation will pay; 'about £10,000,000 a year less in taxes. Super tax on earned incomes has been abolished, its place being taken by a tax calculated on the style of living of the taxpayer. If that principle were adopted in this country, our affluent cargo workers and amateur tango specialists would be hard hit. ....

You know, of course, that America won the war? But are you aware that when the last mail left the land immortalised by Al (Scarface) Capone, Big Bill Thompson, and Earl Carroll, men, women, and children were roosting in -ong suffering trees for the express purpose of hatching out new records to the greater glory of their Uncle Samf Well, we're telling you. About the only spots not thus disfigured are the Knickerbocker Hotel roof garden and the Bowery. It's the silly season for tree-sitting in the States. No wonder the newspapers are giving the phenomenon editorial attention, and that Mayors here and there are prohibiting the crankiness. A. middle-aged woman, wedded three times, struck a new vein of publicity—headlines and vignetted photograph and all

—by starting an arboreal contest for married women. She was confident of receiving at least 37 offers of marriage before she fell off the • branch. A young thing in New England climbed to her pcrcV armed with "Martin Chuzzlewit," a pack of cards, and a tin of

bug powder . . . this last for the red' ants who, unfortunately, were 1» the tree first. Watch this column Jor the result of the waffle-oating grind «fti the see-srw Marathon.