POSTSCRIPTS

Evening Post, Volume CXIX, Issue 32, 7 February 1935, Page 10

POSTSCRIPTS

6Y PERCY FLAGE

Chronicle and Comment

Curious that when money is tight there should be such a lot of loose thinking. » ♦ • Maybe Mr. McGovem would be n more effective critic if he learned to govern McGovern. Architecturally speaking, Lambton Quay, after showing signs of degeneration, is in the pink again. * » * "Amos-'n'-Andy": My sympathies ar« all with the drought-stricken .farmers. It is simply impossible to keep the home-brew cool these days. * # • One cannot help being impressed by the trenchant criticism of the Government's Mortgage Finance plan, but surely all those brain-trus.ters can't ba wrong! * * * SEE NEW ZEALAND FIRST. Dear Flage,—Am spending my holidays sunbaking on the beach beside the Miramar Wharf, where I have just been struck by a paradox. I haven't been away from town, Just pottered 'round the beach, old bean, - And yet I've seen some outback parts— The flappers' vertebrae, I mean! ESPERANTO BERT. *■•■:■■■■•■■ .' :* ESSAY ON DUNEDIN. In Dunedin you have lovely walk! in trying to post your afternoon letters. You walk about the beautiful city seeking a pillar-box. Meeting other strangers similarly engaged, mutual help enhances the pleasure. At last, with what joy! you find a box and pop in your mail. As an afterthought you read the inscription, which gives a new thrill, for It says: "Cleared at 8.30 a.m. and 10 p.m." You then recall wise sayings about being too late. You resolve, that next time you,will find a real post-office if you can. The Duke did something to a foundation where there is a lot of scaffolding. He congratulated Dunedin on meaning to have a fine post office. * ♦ * ADVERTISING BALLYHOO. It is an American business man talking. The trouble is that the average 'man or woman doesn't want, to be told the truth. They want to be buncoed, buffaloed, hoodwinked, and hypnotised. That's why Americans spend 300,000,000 dollars a year on patent, medicines, . most of them useless and some of them slow poison. That's why the 'country's cosmetics bill would pay the running expenses of, the army and navy. That's why 125,000,000 dollars a year goes, into the pockets of fortune tellers, astrologers, mediums, and stock market tipsters. -That's why the biggest liar does, the biggest business, by selling sweet dreams and pretty promises, not by giving good value in merchandise for the customer's money. j_ . ■> ♦ # , • , MORNING TEA MONOLOGUE. I'm through with Flage; 'c's 'urt m» pride. I'd like to take 'im for a ride An' leave 'im to it Do you know 'E never even said, "Ullo" When 'c returned the other day, Or dropt a postal note my way? There's man's 'umanity to man! 'I never will an' never can Forget such base ingratitood. Honest, me dear, I'm in the" mood To tell 'im orf; almost I feel Like dust beneath hees chariot "wneel, The which I don't'deserve to be Who toiled for 'im so faithfully Week in, week out, on Thursdee night. Ax.' all for love . . it isn't'right. Well, if 'c don't apolergise I'll go an' put hees bosses wise. It's not much, dearie, what I/ask For this me self-defacin' task I carries out at hees be'est— Only a kindly word at best, . Or a warm 'and-shake when we meet Private like in the open street. But no. I'll say. I 'aven't 'ad Even a tram fare from that lad. Who climbs to dizzy 'eights divine On rungs of talents'what are mine. I jist won't be hignored, I won't; I care—some others uv us don't. This is (I want to make it clear) Me last ultitomatum, 'dear. Meanwhile I'cannot care'a jot Whether there is a war or not, Or if the Hempire sinks or swims ... Ain't that tall girl got loverly limbs? * * « DAMSEL IN DISTRESS. My Dear Percy,—Just a small me» mehto to' welcome you home. Have missed you very much—so much, that, owing to a desire to write someone, I find myself mixed up in a Donnybrook with the P.O. and the Pub. Hospital. Dear P., it all happened thus:—l had had numerous accounts, for some "treatment" meted out to another of no similar name or number. The climax came when something sealed, and looking like a summons or debt-collector's demand, was thrust info our milk-cum-bill-box. Well, P., it is bad enough, isn't it, to get a summons for one's own bills (God wotl) (forgetmenot), .so this time, ceasing to be polite, but still trying to be helpful, I asked them to try another surburb, or even "No Man's Land" for a change. (Dear P., I used to be in the Ministry of Pensions, and all we did the day long was to write little Please note ... etcs., to other rooms, and no harm done)... .But the P.O. have no sense of humour, for they looked up my pass book containing Is (truly—just to keep it open-in hope oi happier times), and addressing me as— Esq. (studied insult), 'and demanded an. explanation of how the envelope came to be defaced. I could have opened out over such a. reply, but decided'not to go any further into the matter beyohd a plain statement of facts. Why I picked on the P.O. I cannot now understand—rather a different proposition to poor little Cher! The memory of that encounter still makes me laughl Dear P., there is more to that cigar than you really know of, although I am sure you must be tired of having it pushed down your throat. There were really' a 'half-dozen earmarked in modern style for you, but before a suitable opportunity 'arose to send them I fell in deeply with my bookmaker, and when' all seemed dark, some still small thought came into my head that a cigar might appease him. It proved to be his "Achilles heel" and although it seemed like casting pearls, etc., when he flourished his phony account and made me take half a dozen for 2s 6d, I thought, "fair exchange is no robbery." Well, I have written a lot of rubbish (so have you at times), but this is the last page in the pad, and the old nib is,on its last leg, so next time we might make a better job with new material.—Yours as before. ' G.G.O. Very Windy Gully. ■ P.S.--I am not; ; allowed to g<> to any races, for any purpose, at any tlmet Nvhatsoever.