POSTSCRIPTS

Evening Post, Issue 20, 23 July 1935, Page 8

POSTSCRIPTS

By Pebcy Flage.

Chronide< and Comment

Add similes: As funny (unconsciously) as a raw amateur; heavy weight in his first fight. * ■ •■ • * When the All Blacks-reach the cradle of Rugby they can be relied on to rock it to some purpose. ' • ■■ ♦ ft ■ *. ■ England's selectors have chosen thirteen men for the next Test. The unlucky number—for two of the chosen. « * « It is not a fact (radiophones our sister Camou from Dartmoor) that Mr. Coates's last day in London was a hictic affair.also. *' • # Headline fun—from an American daily: FORMAL NOTE TO . DER FURORE WILL NOT BE DELIVERED.. . High tribute to Hitler. THE NELSON TOUCH. ' Our much-travelled '"Orace," lately back from the north, heard the following at a Rugby match in Auckland:— Three "Trammies" together: One yelling at the top of his voice, "Come on, Auckland!" One, of the other two, to his mate, "Cripes! If old 'Bill loses the sight of his barracking eye he's in the Blind Institute for keeps." "HOT RHYTHM.". If ever we went stark staring modern, and developed a Greenwich Village complex, we should write a dirge like this—a "poem" published in an American weekly:— .... , .'...,,.'. just the same he wore one grey .tweed suit, bought one straw hat, drank one straight Scotch, walked one short step, took one long look, drew, one deep breath, just one too many, . • : And wow he died as wow. he lived, going whop to the office and blooie home to sleep and biff got married and bam had children and oof got fired, . • , .., . . ■ . zowie did he live and zowie did he die. c • _■'.#■- "-■■" "FLIMSIES." ' ;•• "A Reader" presents some more compliments to Mr. Flage, and thanks him for explaining that "flimsies" are newstelegrams written on irritatingly thin and crinkly paper; but. regrets that this leaves him more bewildered than ever. Seeing that ordinary telegrams, including those addressed to members of Parliament, are delivered on paper of a kind reasonably adequate for their purpose, and would never' be called "flimsies," and that news-tele-grams are supposed to belong to newspaper offices only, are we now to deduce that the point of the story is the illicit possession by a member of Parliament of documents intended for the Press? ■ Ceruliah! . *' A flimsy argument. We leave our meticulous logician steeped in bewilderment, and trust' he ; enjoys it. And Ceruliah to him, too! " HAVE A BANANA. Some weeks ago England laboured in the t throes of an:"Eat More. Fruit" campaign, on which promoters had decided ; to" spend' the lively ■ sum . of £200,000. The first movement of this kind was promoted by the late Alfred Jones, a Liverpool ship owner. He began in a modest way to advertise the then little-known banana, in which he raw possibilities of reviving the prosperity of the Canary Isiands. He kept a bunch of bananas in his office, and whoever called to see him was invited to sample the fruit, perhaps with a word or two of commendation. After the practice had helped to make bananas popular among his visitors he still maintained it as: a device for signifying that an interview, was at an end. Generally it ■ succeeded, but on one occasion he got the worst of tha trick. A smart young journalist called "to seek information regarding a shipping dispute. After a few seconds Sir Alfred's hand strayed, towards the banana basket. Before he reached it, however, the reporter drew a couple of bananas from his own pocket, and in tones of sweetest innocence inquired, "Will you have a banana, Sir Alfred?" , : . . ■ * * • ♦ : BY-ELECTION. While scores and scores of earned folk . Go out electioneering, Each eve, to hear a serious bloke, And do a spot of cheering, ■ '■ Or shrewdly pull his leg, mayhap, . Or toss brickbats forthrightly, The Silent Voter—knowing chap— I Stays home, quite carefree, nightly. He does not wish to hear a candidate his views expounding On this or that Utopian plan In oratory resounding; . He does not even spare a thought For the poor wight, nor will he Recall the issues being fought In windy halls and chilly. Let others rampage wild and wide Content to play the booby, Complacent, and; self-satisfied (As he has reason to be), He studiedly keeps out. of sight, A sense of power possessing, Because he knows that, On the night, He'll have the country guessing. Salute the Silent Voter, then, A force beyond controlling, Whose presence tips the 'balance when The crowds go boothward strolling, He can be, of a verity, A blithering bore and Bumble, He is both mum and dumb—but he . Is riot at all a "dumb-bell." *..'• •■''■ "RULES FOR MUMMIES." Here is a spot of rudery and snul> bage, as Wodehouse (is it?) puts it. It was sent to an unloved business man in Cape Town ... and there are, we presume, unloved business men in every considerable community. Here you are:— Never call anything by its right name. A show of force and strength encourages individuality, and individuality is dangerous to mummies. Never give anyone the cream of your friendship. Always deal in skimmed milk, so that you may receive the same from your relatives, your friends, and the world. . . ' Stick to the old days and the old ways until the cobwebs gather in your office, and the world has forgotten your name and address. Never become enthusiastic over anything. Always assume an air of great wisdom and burden your conversation with dry-as-dust remarks. Say the same thing every day for thirty years, so no one can accuse you of having a new idea. '. ..■..-■ Never act boyish or speak a pleasant word to your associates or employees. Someone might learn to love you. Always, judge a ma,n by his present condition in life, and not by his possibilities. Never place any value'on genius, talent, or any of the gifts of the immortal gods. Neither hate nor . love well, but simply be a conventional, uninteresting, dull, grey, drab, soulless, colourless nonentity, and you will succeed—as a mummy. ■ - .;