POSTSCRIPTS

Evening Post, Volume CXXVIII, Issue 53, 31 August 1939, Page 8

POSTSCRIPTS

Chronicle and Comment BY PERCY FLAGS Leftist theme song: Ye banks arid brays. * * * So the member for Stratford still believes that the ostrich buries its head in the sand, deluding itself! * * * British Liberal leader says that, crises must cease. Sut please, sir-* mightn't we have a spot of high tension now and again? * * * Harihaha. —An important factor - in the beer squabble is the constitution of the "handle"—half beer and half optical illusion. ,—•*> * * ♦ * Oedipus.—Have you heard the latest song-hit from Berlin, "I'm in a Danzig Mood," played by the "Three Leadswingers." There's SymPhony work in that! * ♦ * BACK TO SCHOOL. What they think of it—expressed til quotations from the classics. The Parent: Take the boy to you; he so troubles me, 'tis past enduring.—"The Winter* Tale," Shakespeare. The Child: ' .... Farewell happy fields, Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail. —"Paradise Lost," Milton. The Schoolmaster: Did it ever strike you on such a morning as this, that drowning would be happiness and peace?—" Pickwick Papers," Dickens. NEMO. * * * WE PREFER COCOA. "FUDDLED FLATTITE" forward! the following fulmination:— I'm tired of drinking cups of tern With neighbours in our tenement. They call it sociability; I call it swill and scandalment, Accompanied by half-baked scones, Or cakes and pikelets by the score, Or maybe tarts and Sally Lunns, But I can't stand them any more. I think, dear Flage, you will agree, The time has come when, it is cleat, We should cut out these cups: of tea. And fill ourselves with, pints of beer. P.S.— I hear that beer's gone vp1 in pric* So we had better bide a wee, And if you'll look in at my flat, I'll treat you to a cup of tea. * • ♦ . COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS, Nicolai, in your column of Tuesday, airs a grievance; but let me say to him—"Count your blessings! Haven't you yet learned that the present Government is the most humanitarian that ever was (the members say so themselves, constantly), and haven't they ensured 'comfort in old age' for everybody?" Nicolai will, as tie says, be entitled to draw a full pension of £78 a year at age 93; so he has only to exercise a little patience and he should eventually have money to burn. If of a saving nature, he may by then be a capitalist, and be able to lend some money to the Government to carry out a Public Works programme. WHOOZnv < /.• • • ' ■''•■" inci-dentalV' /"' '*" . From Speigal, who sorted them out of the "Readers' Digest" for this fea« ture: — __ When Jack London was in Korea reporting the Russo-Japanese War, an official came to his hotel one day and told him that the entire population was gathered in the square, below to see him London felt enormously set up to think that his fame had spread to the wilds of Korea. But when he mounted the platform that had been, erected for him the official merely asked him to take out his bridge of artificial teeth. The crowd watched closely "as he did it, and then for half-an-hour they kept him standing there, taking out his teeth and putting them back again to the applause of the multitude. Racecourse logic. A woman, collecting a pile of bills from a bookie, exclaimed: "When I think what I might have lost if that horse: -hadn t won, I could shoot myself for being such a fool as to back him." * * * MORNING TEA MONOLOGUE. My pore ole Greta. Ain't you 'card She's a grassed widder? It'ss absurd That one so young as 'er can be Tossed on the matermoromal sea Uv trouble. She was neely drowned In tears-'n'-sorrer, but I've found A peace front for 'er in our place With 'er two parients face to'face. Arthur slipped orf to fight the 'Un A month ago—that's what c done, An' Greta didden know until Larst Toosdee, an' it made 'er ill. My pore lass! I suppose she needs To 'aye a set of widder's weeds. Where do they grow, dear? What 7 Zat so? • That's one 'thing what I didden know, But any'ow, 'er bouncin' boy Is still our faith-'n'-'ope-'n'-joy. I 'ear I'm not supposed t$ talk Uv warscare ... for the love uv CorM Becos the censer 'as clamped down On things what might make ■ frowl An' throw a seven. But let me say 'E's brave-'n'-chimin', anyway. E's a nice chap misunderstood Who always works for peace's good. Whose tol'rance is 'c's long dress suw An' thinks Mars is a drunken brute. 'E's word's 'c's bondage, all men know, Includin' them dum Checks-'n-Co. An' all the Nasties rightly sense 'E's claims that se is Provindence Sent for to make the job complete, An' put the 'hole world orf its feet. ■But Starling is a bear—that s flat ... Say dear, what »re you laughm at. * .».-■♦ TINY TOTS. Dear Flage,-The old adage, "Catch 'em Young!" must have some solid foundation in fact, if the Performances of the ."tiny tots" at the competitions are any criterion. To witness the solo song and dance artists, under 9, fprls, is to enjoy a spectacle of colour, blitheomenSs'and P pleasure unabatedwhile in progress. As regards the boys--well boys will be boys, so must take he consequences. Daintiness allied to artistry, is ever clothed in Petticoat^ Dame Nature's wise compensation m lieu of Rugby ruggedness, Perhaps. It would at least be patriotic to reyise^he well-worn injunction, "See Naples ana rtip'" to "See Welli nSton competitions drunk, peace, or war "adjudicators^