POSTSCRIPTS

Evening Post, Volume CX, Issue 134, 4 December 1930, Page 8

POSTSCRIPTS

Chronicle and Comment

BY PERCY FLAGB

Those burglarious entrances into th« dwellings of two of our Cabinet Ministers are suspicious. It looks as though a political enemy is at work trying to lay hands on the United Party's policy for coping with the slump.

Frankly, we should very much like to know the right thing to do in the situ« ation sketched, for our mother's sak« and the sake of our maiden aunts, too.

To lift or not, in the lift, Your hat when women are present^ Is, brothers of mine, the'drift Of arguments scarcely pleasant.

Aboard the tram, or train Who his old "tile" will shiftT Will somebody nlease explain The etiquette of the lift?

There are many definitions of a life* time job, but we present two of our very own:—Selling an opera hat t» Gandhi, and conducting a -house-to« house collection in Scotland.

j An esteemed client has draped our shoulders with the cassock—or should it be hassock? We are never sure. Ha addresses us thus: Rev. Mr. Plage. Dear Percy,—From your exalted position in the pulpit naturally you could nov be expected to know much concernirg the rows of congregational clams in the pews beneath you. But wo do not suffer as you think we do. When the sermon starts we go to sleep, and arc out of our troubles and torturings, until the choir starts up again. Therefore your suggestion that somei thing be done to relie.ve our tedium if j unnecessary. However, I do think that an element of novelty would not be amiss if intro* , duced in the form of a competition to I see who can keep awake longest durin g the sermon, members to register, with, nightwatehman's device, the. time kept awake, and so prove how long he or sha remained on deck. This competition could be. judged at the. annual picnic at the end of the year, and the winner presented with a cushion to ease his slumbers during future sermons. Anyr one who could retain consciousness and survive the vicar's stock joke (the brand new one he has been telling for years and years and years to slumbering congregations) to be presented with. a special prize of a collapsible couch, which he would be privileged to use during sermons, for the rest of his life. This prize would be much coveted, but not too lightly won. It may cause some envy and jealousy among the female members, but if won by a male I feel sure the rest would say solemnly and ungrudgingly, and in unison, "Brother, you deserve it!"— Yours irreverently, Ozzie. "Exalted" is right, my brother.' . « We have our being on the fifth floot of a very noble edifice. Touching your ingenious suggestions: would it be possible, think you, to train one's self t# slumber, through the offertory? ' '

* * '# lnor ladies only. Dear Percy,—lt occurs to me that the recent recommendations for thei safety of pedestrians. (Etca jacket, etc.), are not suflieiently ctmprehensive, in that they do not provide for the fair sex. Perhaps a perisco>i e hat to reflect the brightness of theix eyes would fit the bill. However, this could be left to the ingenuity of your eoh«iii readers. Porirua Old Boy. The idea has possibilities. By. the way, "P. 0.8.," we're a life member of that old "dump." Could you call up one day?

* * * In to-day's morning tea monologue Mrs. M'Claney makes an interesting personal announcement, is a trifle critical of our exceedingly earnest local announcer, and concludes with what our advertising agencies would call a "hand out." 'Ello, old thing! 'Ello, 'Ello! An' how's our little touch-an'-go? That's splendid. Ain't it nice an' 'ot% Looks like our Lady Summer's got Jazz garters on at last. My dear! I 'ope you won't regard me queer, But I can tell from my old clothes I'm gettin' rather addlepose. It's 'ard to make ends meet. . .my dress Fits me too late. It's shockin'! Yes. So lam going in for slinimin', ■ Like all my other sister wimmen. You start with dietin'. I've cut out Such f attenin' gear as pork an' stout, An' 'am-an'-eggs an' tripe an' cakes, Chocklets an' dumplins an' milk-shakes. Mostly L. lives on orange juice An' garden truck to 'elp redoose. Another thing. I'd like to slap That radio announcer chap 'E puts on airs, he does, sometimes, You'd think 'c was the Town 'AH Chimes An' Mr. 'Arris all in one. 'E fairly gets me on the run. His "Fwhnnganui"" makes me larf Until my face near splits in 'arf. You orter 'car 'im say "Patea," An' then "Wahine" . . . the ideal An. Lady Quex to 'im is "Kow." It rhymes with "specks" ... I know it do. I'm all for good pronouneiation In every British speakiu' nation, But all this blether gets my goat. Why not plain English as she's wrotei^ As "Shakespeare said in old lang syne. Look out for Mosque an' Calamine. :

Richard Buckley, now under th«j shadow of the gallows for his part in, the cold-blooded murder of banker Berriman, was "smoked out" onlyj after a chase which reads like a thriller novel. The sleuth responsible was Detective Lacey, who was selected for th« job because of his flair for shadowiarg. His make-up as a woman is said to have been unusually convincing. About 12 months ago police headquarters received a number of anonymous letters stating that Buckley, believed to be far away from Melbourne, could be found at certain houses in the suburbs. However, raiding parties failed to land him, though ttey discovered that their man was receiving a weekly allowance from members of the underworld. Thca Lacey was put on his track. For months he was in touch with the gangsters, taking his life in his hands. Eventually, with the aid of his disguise, he made contact with tho chosen few who know where Buckley might be met. Lacey shadowed these people for weeks, day and night. After several narrow escapes from detection and many disappointments, the pursuer located his mau at Moonee Ponds. A constant watch was kept on the houso by .the detective, who paid several midnight visits disguised as a "fashionable" woman. Then be made readyto strike, surrounded the cottage, battered a way in ... and Buckley waa no longer "in smoke." Now it looks as though Buckley will soon follow his partner m homicide, Angus Murray