POSTSCRIPTS

Evening Post, Volume CXII, Issue 17, 20 July 1931, Page 8

POSTSCRIPTS

Chronicle and Comment BY PERCY FLAGE Ono of our distinguished editorial colleagues has committed himself to a, startling statement. On Saturday ho said "there will be a real summer again." A "real" summer, mind you. It's great news . . . but (afterthought) when, and where? No . . . we shan't look out our "bathers" gust yet. » * a Desolation Manor. (Calamity. Castle being in the hands of the bailiff.) Comrade Flage,— Might I suggest the following revised version of Longfellow's little effort as a fitting national anthem for the 1.0. U. (International Order of TJnemplayed) ? "' Life is real; life is earnest, What, my brethren, is its goal? Dust thou art, to dust returnest,And shovel same—or draw the dolfc Yours dolefully, PERCY VERE. ~..•-. * « • i •■■ . ■ . ': ■ HERE'S THE ANSWER.'. ' "R.C.H."—Neat but nebulous. Poemi in shorts must not bo obscure. "-P.S." (Wanganui).—On points—yes, but what a\)out point? Your seri- ..' ous one—• • • ''' .. Art "Is apart » From mould Or gold. "11l Jays" (Fcatherston.).—Your four-word jingle states a doubtful proposition with a final tortured ■ rhyme. "Little Erik" (not,of Berhampore).— Sorry about the sore jaw. Would like to publish it if only for the referee's sake—but "Billyum."—No miniatures in free verse, "Billyum." Tisn't done. "M.T.P." (Masterton).—See reply to "R.C.H." "Le S."—Thanks, but your "je suis a • la dumps" monologuo has already; appeared in this calamitous column. "A.T.," "Vice Versa," "Karaka. Bay," "Teleological," and "IJavaspot."—To all of you, thanks, but wo have "decided to call the dogs off that harassed hare. "Eldee Babyaustin."—Last "N.Y.» the best yet. Interim reports con* coming our spectacular tourist, white hibiscus over each ear, will be wplcome. "Percy Perisher."—Misses by a mile. "Anna Nias."—Thank you. We'll slip that one—a bright suggestion —soon now. «■ * * PARK SPARKS. "Howitzer," reinstated, shoots over some "heavies." there were as many passes dropped in the Eastbourne-Hutt match .is pounds by pertinacious punters at Trentham. The game has a great hold. Fancy, Harold Miyphy, racehorse owner, at tho Park while the bells were chiming their siren song up the Hutt Valley, lie was noticed rendering first aid on Saturday . . . not to punters, "of course. The Teddy Roberts touch was revealed more than once, particularly by Foley's interceptions and breaks through, but old-timers yearned for Teddy himself ... at tlio top of his form. ■ ■' \ . Early in the game. An enthusiast:] "Where's Ball? Where's Ball?" Next-door neighbour: "The Eastbourne full-back has it." A.E.: "Has what?" ' ' N.D.N.: "Why, the ball." A.E-: "No, I mean Hutt's Ball. N.D.N.: "Oh, yeah!" :Veteran "fans" were bemoaning that the game was not what it was fifty; or sixty years ago. Half-a-century; hence there will be the same old wail each week. Marist beat Poneke. Porieko beat Eastbourne Eastbourne beat Hutt. Hutt beat Wellington. What's the answer? ■' •■':■ Marist seem to have the hoodoo on. Poneke. Billy Wallace should retorc with the voodoo stuff with which Jamaican negroes 'jolly well confound theii; enemies. ' ' ■■"■'• > « * - • * THE WALRUS AND THE WEATHER-CLERK , - ' (Apologies to Lewis Carroll.) • If : this should transform by som« black magic our present flash of Spring into*a tearing, snarling Winter, it is no-responsibility of ours. Blame our distinguished .client with the meteorological pseudonym, who may be a gumboot salesman for all we know. The Walrus and the Weather-clerk Were walking hand-in-hand; They. wept like anything to see The drought upon the land. "If only we could have some rain," They said, "it would be grand." ' "If fifty.feet of rain should fall, Say, fifty times a year, . Do you suppose," the Walrus said,. "The drought would then be clear?"----"I doubt it," said the Weather-clerk, '"-.•■ And shed a bitter tear. ■: '.■ "0 Cyclones, come and visit us,'' Tho-Walrus did beseech; "We love.to hear your whistling winds. That howl and moan and screech; , We've had no, rain for many months; - • We are too dry for speech." 'Then four fresh cyclones hurried up,' r: And yet another four; : And thick and fast they cama at last,And more, and more, arid more; - All hopping o'er the Tasman Sea, , And making for" the shore. . "A soaking rain," the Walrus,said, "Is what we chiefly need; And hail and snow and south-west wind* , Arc veiy good indeed." ' . .'■ "For sure,", replied the Weather-clerkr "On tliat\ye are agreed." "But-what of us?" the people cried, ■ •'. • Turning a little blue, "After the sunshine that would be A dismal thing to do."' "Tho mist is thick," the Walrus said, "Do you admire the viewl?" ''0 people!" cried the Weather-clerk, "You've had a pleasant run; : Another cyclone's coming soon— It's due at half-past one; So get umbrellas out again, We're keeping up the fun." "SANTA SICLONE.'^ .!-.. l« .■'.*'. * OH, THIS ENGLISH. George B. Shaw on the English language and our editorial comment on that paladiu of "spoof" reminds us of a story. Jan Fabricius, the famous Dutch dramatist, was producing a new play of his own in London; Though six, months ago he knew hardly any English, to-day he now speaks our languagefluently, if not always grammatically. During a rehearsal a cat strolled on to the stage, distracting the company, and otherwise interfering with the proceedings. When the puss threatened to get entangled in the feet o£ ono of his "stars," Jan could contain himself no longer. He rose and delivered himself of a magnificent, if involuutary, lino of blank verse: "I am not casy-kcartcd by that cat!" ,■., : • ~ *;