POSTSCRIPTS

Evening Post, Volume CXXXI, Issue 31, 6 February 1941, Page 8

POSTSCRIPTS

Chronicle and Comment

BY PERCY FLAGE

Veni, vidi, Vichy? * # # Motto" of Women's Institute in Britain: "Don't let the sun set on your wrath; sit on' it yourself." * * * Wife- at Tottenham (London): "I know my husband was sorry after he had blackened my eye because he gave me a black dress to match." * * * That British unit which was rushed to Iceland early in the piece must be having quite a nice war. So far the only risk it runs is chilblains. * • * « . An Italian soldier retiring before the Greeks according to plan overtook a hare. Kicking it aside he said: "Get out of the way, slow coach, and let somebody run who can run." * * ' * QUEER WORLD. All swimming pools in Germany are being devoted to breeding fish. The use of swimming pools as such is forbidden under severe penalties. "Within two years," says the order, "pike and other such fish 'now put down* should weigh 21b apiece and provide excellent nourishment." A Lowestoft woman of 95, with five of her children —three sons and two daughters—are drawing old age allowances. The mother has another daughter who does not draw an old age pension. She is the wife of a railway pensioner. * • * * NOVEL NEWSPAPERS. In his last note our friend Emmett Walpole promised to find us a copy of the "Daily Pilot," published on Thursday Island. It was once the world's smallest paper. It was printed on one side only of a sheet measuring one foot by six inches, and consisted mainly of shipping information. The smallest newspaper now is the "Bimini Bugle," of the Island of Bimini in the Bahamas group. This measures three and one-eighth inches by four . and a half inches. Paris used to be the home of queer newspapers. For example, one published some years ago came out on rubber paper so that it might be read in the bath. * * * BACCHUS. Re Bacchus in your column of today— . » God of bottles be our aid, And when the rebels crack us, We'll bend the bottle's neck to theft, And thou wilt backus. This appeared many years ago in a Yankee article on the Civil War—'Neath the shade of a tree a Southerner sat Twisting the brim of his panama hat. "Oh, oh for captain! Oh, oh, for a ship! Oh, oh! for a cargo of niggers each trip." He kept on "oh-ing" for what he had not, But forgot about owing for what he had got. FOUR PENCE. Curiously enough, F.P., your omission to stamp your letter cost this newspaper a surcharge of exactly fourpence. * * ' * .- KING WITH 18 NAMES. Cambodia, on whose frontier "fighting has broken.out between Thailand and Indo-China, is the nearest approach in the world of 1940 to a comic . opera kingdom. A French Protectorate, it really falls within the jurisdiction of French IndoChina. Admiral Decoux, GovernorGeneral of Indo-China, is its real ruler, but Cambodia still has a king of its own. What he lacks in power he makes up in the splendour of his names. In full they are Prea Bat Samdach Prea Sisowath Monivong Chamcha Vrapong Haireach Barmintor Phouvanay Krayveofa Sulalay' Prea Chan Crung Campucnea Tippedey. More generally he is known as King Sisowath Monivong. The King is a keen photographer and has been known to appear on formal occasions in magnificent robes and howdah on one of the State elephants, holding his sceptre in one hand and a movie-camera in the other. j & * * | MORNING TEA MONOLOGUE. 'Ello, ole dear. I'm minutes late, Which is the sorter thing I 'ate. It ain't my fault. I tried to paint My legs . . ■. and came all over faint, An' 'ad to rush me stockin's on, Thankful to feel the pain 'ad gone, An' dashed orf for the nearest tram . . . I say ... I ain't shook on this 'am. 'Owever, dear, it thrilled my 'cart To see the loads of chilrun start For school this week, both girls-'n'-boys, Fillin'* the air with 'appy noise, Chatt'rin'-'n'-smilin' as they went Like they 'ad all been 'eaven-sent. I'd love to be a kid once more, Jest for a while, dear, as uv yore, But since that cannot 'ardly be I'll 'aye another cupper tea. I didden join the seethin' crowd What swept to see that Nolan Cowd, Who came from Hingland all the way To 'elp Noo Zealand win the day Uv reck'nin'. But I 'card 'im sing Night after night like anything. Bill thought 'c didden go too well (E's songs, I mean), I thought it swell. 'E 'as a croonin' voice like mine Which ain't too 'eavy an' too fine. 'Owever, when I getta job Too sweet, up with the aircraft mob» An' throw my weight in for to 'elp The Nasffes will begin to yelp. That may be skitin', but I guess I'd make a dinkum 'owlin mess Uv some pore 'Un what I should meet . . . 'Ow does one get to Easy Street? * * * SPY SCARE. There has not been, and there will not be, a "spy scare" in Britain throughout this war, asserts an ex-Lon-don detective, who had a hand in catching German spies in 1914-18. In. September, 1939, more than three hundred were under lock and key within, a few hours of hostilities starting. Fewer than half a dozen of those prisoners exercised their right to appeal to the Home Secretary. Luck played some part in the running down of enemy spies in the last war. Here is an example: There was an amateur vocalist who fancied himself for his rendering of "The Last Rose of Sum- * mer." He had a job in the censorship department, and one day a parcel containing half a dozen songs was handed to him for examination. The sender's name and address indicated that he was a British subject with a business in South London, and it seemed obvious that Jie was sending an innocent present to a friend in Amsterdam. In the song sheets the young man found *nis favourite song, and ran through it, humming the accompaniment. Suddenly he stopped. "That's not right," he said, pointing to the bottom line. "The notation has been changed." The music publishers supplied the information wanted, ,tht cipher department got to work, a vital message to Germany was intercepted, and a dangerous spy was captured and dealt witb