POSTSCRIPTS

Evening Post, Volume CXXVII, Issue 92, 20 April 1939, Page 8

POSTSCRIPTS

BY PERCY FLAGE

Chronicle and Comment

When a drought breaks it gives the farmers a "break," too. * # * News note: Confused battles (iri China) are raging. ... So are the war bulletins, making confusion worse, confound it! . ♦ * * Th: Was Melisande the sweet wee dot who got no marks for English when she put: "A preposition is the poorest word to end a sentence with"? * » * News note: "Songwriter composes songs while playing golf." Presumably "swing" numbers, comments "Alpha" on the 'phone. * * * TRA-LA-LEE. That circular letter Proved no vote-getter. E.G. * * * RAIN! Jupiter Pluvius has spoken; Hence the headline: Drought Hai Broken. BLOGDEN GNASH. * * -# INFORMATION DEPT. Can you tell me, asks "Petone," the origin of the expression Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Who coined it, and when? Tweedledum and Tweedledee were names invented by John Byron (1731) to satirize two quarrelling schools of musicians between whom the real difference was negligible.- Hence used of people whose persons—or opinions —are "as like as two peas." Some say compared to Bononcini That Mynheer Handel is a ninny| Others aver that he to Handel Is scarcely fit to hold a candle. Strange all this difference should be 'Twixt Tweedledum and Tweedledee. The Duke of Marlborough and most of the nobility took the side of Bononcini, but the then Prince' of Wales, with others, was for Handel. * * * BRAIN-TEASER. Still more solutions: C.8., G.H, W.M., Attaboy, Mack, B. Blether^ Scotty Morris, Still Interested, Rita, and Maureen managed No. 1. No. 2 (with the ; aid of the' clue)— that's a neat couplet, by the way—was solved by Sivot (or is it Swot?), W.S. (thanks for good wishes), "Joynt," Noel, Joy S. Miramar, and Decka. C.8.----comments: Like many others I enjoy the varied fare you serve up to us each evening. Wishing you continued success in your efforts. Scotty Morris adds to his solutions thus: Glad to see the old colmun giving readers a very pleasant and varied supply of good things. To both of you, thanks. We like variety ourselves, even if it takes the form of an occasional metaphorical brick-bat through our office window, . We haven't had one of such for quite a while, so we had better watch out • * • A HAIR OF THE DOG. Meandering through a compellingly interesting work, "The Epicure's Companion," the other evening, we happened upon the origin of the wellknown saying known to all devotees of Bacchus: "A hair of the dog," which, has a reference to hangovers, and things like that. The idea goes back, many years. The English translation by Richard Surflet (1616) of "Maison Rustique" has the following passage:— "If the Head complaine itself of too much drinke, there may be made a Frontlet of wild Time, Maiden Haire; Roses, or else to drinke of the shavings of Hart's home with Fountain or River water, or if you see that your stomack be not sicke, thou mayst take of the hair of the Beast that hath made thee ill, and drink off a good glasse of Wine." "Wild Time" seems to us a most ntting corrective, but if your habitat is away in the heart of the King Country and there's no "wild Time" or "shavings of Hart's home" available, an. alternative of repute is a bottle of Worcester sauce; at least so we have been informed. • • • MORNING TEA MONOLOGUE. Am I down-'earted? Not a tall! Am I ole dear, what people call , A pestermist? Why should I be? My motta is to wait-'n'-see 'Ow the cat jumps—an' by the cat I'm meanin' 'Itler, and so that's that I don't count chickens, dear, before They're well-'n'-truly 'atched. What's more , 1 don't think 'Eaven's on Adolf s side. Wouldn't it shock our 'opes-'n'-pnde If what 'c claims was common sense That 'c alone is Proverdence, An' no one else is? An' I say 'E's bark is worser than 'c's bray. That's praisin' 'im an 'c's boy chum. Who, though loud-voiced, is rathe* dumb As from the chin up, an' a skite Who's no Joe Louis in a fight. Like the P.M. I dips my lid To Rosyvelt for what 'c did In puttin' those blokes on the spot Whether they liked it, dear, or not. Franklin's a good old scout. 'E knows Who is 'c's friends as well as foes. What 'c 'as told "em pure-'n'-plain •As cheered up Nervile Chamberlain An' Brother Savage, too, an' France, An' so on. Taken at a glance The houtlook doesn't seem no worse Than—let me see—an' ole-time 'earse, What always frightened me to death An' sent me fightin' fer me breath. Yet some'ow, though my friends grow pale, I gotta 'unch right will pervail An' lay them ragin' war-feends out.. « Looks like there's lotsa rain about. • # * LUCKY NUMBERS. Dear Sir, —I don't want to criticise Column 8, but I would like to point out that a racing incident appearing therein last week could not have happened here, for many reasons. One is that we don't have bookmakers as they have in that wicked place called Australia; that is according to a gejitleman just returned from a visit to Tfaat country. Despite his spate of condemnation of the Aussies, we also have our little flutter, and our twoup slang is much the same, as the following story will show:—Two old Diggers meet after the seventh race last meeting at Trentham. One had not backed a winner. The other had caught the last three, and explained how he had done it. Said he: "I backed Yours Truly, number 11, and that gave me the hunch for the next two. I followed n«mber one twice, landing Suleiman and Trebor, so I'm having a glorious trot. "Glorious trot," replied the other. "I expect you will take a few number nines on the next and break into a gallop." What happened goes to illustrate that «oany • true word is said in je«t. After Meamea had passed the post ft winner and number 9 appeared on tht board, it would have done anyone 1* heart good to have seen that old Digger gallop to the tote. Yours sincerely, R.J.W.