POSTSCRIPTS

Evening Post, Volume CXXXI, Issue 115, 17 May 1941, Page 8

POSTSCRIPTS

Chronicle and Comment

BY PERCY FLAGE

Hesscapade? Or Hesscapee??

Great Britain has been carrying on with the yelp of U.S.A. Wait till she barks and bites. n * * * . Then there was the soldier of the> B.ErF. who, when he clambered out of a ditch loaded with a sack of bread, observed grimly; "Theyll have sponge cake tonight." * * * Nice double Spoonerism: A clergyman announced recently:. "Owing to the church being rather clamp and dammy, the meeting will be hauled in the hell downstairs." * # * Says a New York religious leader: "The Foundation of My Reign was established on June 19, 1936, when the moon eclipsed the sun in conjunction I with Betelgeuse." Coincidence! * # • ■ THIS ENGLAND. "A ball moved by enemy action may be replaced as near as possible where it lay, or if lost or destroyed a ball may be dropped not nearer the hole without penalty."' New golf rule reported in. English daily paper. * # * TRUE GREATNESS. True greatness consisteth in the valour and military disposition of the people it breedeth ... it consisteth in the temper of the Government to keep the subjects in good heart and' courage, and not keep them in a condition of servile vassals ... it consisteth in the commandment of the sea. —Francis Bacon. «■ * * HEARD THIS ONE? A man in Germany enters a grocer's shop and asks: "Have you,got coffee?" The answer is no. "Have you got sugar?" asks the man. The answer is no. "Well, have you got white flour?" asks the man. "Say," replies the grocer, "do you want to buy something, or do you want to talk politics?" R. CAIMILLE. HOME GUARD MANOEUVRES. On the nearby hills, a section of the Home Guard was seriously practising the attack—rifles, extended order, short rushes, etc., etc. Some small boys playing nearby looked bewildered. At last one of them said to a sweating H.G. member: "What about letting us play, too, mister? The 'game you're playing looks better than 'Cowboys and Indians.'" C.A.P. * # •» TALE OF A TAIL. This is a true story of "havoc" caused by Hitler's bombers. When an alert was sounded in a certain East Anglian village men were working with a horse and cart in fields. They tied the horse up to a hedge while they took shelter under a haystack. A bomb fell some distance away. Splinters flew all around the men. The only casualty was the horse, which is now condemned to spend the remainder of its life with only half a tail. A splinter had severed it as cleanly as a knife a few-inches from the body. * * * SCHOOL'S IN. Do you know that — (1) Taking over forty-five years to prepare, the New Oxford Dictionary cost over £1,250,000? (2) Mistletoe was regarded by the ancient Druids not only as a sacred plant, but also as a "cure" for certain nervous disorders? (3) Britain's first paper-mill was established in Hertford shortly after 1500? (4) There are several circus elephants in the south of England which earn their keep by pulling a plough? (5) In 1914 Winston Churchill was horrified to learn that Britain's biggest munition dumps were left in the care of a few elderly nightwatchmen? (6) In Rochester, New York, burglars robbed a big filling station and took away the cash box —and the collar of the police dog left to take care of the premises? (7) Stavangers cathedral, the finest in Norway, was founded in the 11th century by an Englishman? (8) One ton of cider apples chopped up and squeezed will yield 140 gallons of juice? (9) A very little- more wandering and Hitler's hair will be distinctly Napoleonic? (Perhaps that's the idea!) (10) The motto .of our Sovereign, "Dieu et Mon Droit" (God and My Right) was first used by Richard the Lion-Heart in the 12th century? * •» * A CALENDAR FROM ENGLAND. One day you thought of me, so many miles Away in Wellington; perhaps with smiles Of recognition on the Quay we met, And gaily laughed, although the day was wet And cold; again we stood together— you And I; the leaden days of sorrow flew Into oblivion. ... You thought of me, and bought this charming thing— This pictured, English loveliness to bring Me joy; I love the crazy path that goes Beneath the arches, dense, from which each rose Flings down its perfume. ... Blue, blue delphiniums enchant the heart— St. Joseph lilies to the air impart Their fragrance, and sweet William wears its crown Of rubies; English loveliness; yes, down The path we go; maybe, within the old, Quaint house our muffins and our tea | grow cold— For there, a little table stands for two All set; it waits —it waits for me and you. —Riordan Hastings. * * *' SHELTER LIFE IN 1871. Paris went down to its cellars when the German guns bombarded it in 1870-71. Edmond de Goncourt recorded the experiences and the everchanging moods of the Parisians during the "terrible year" of '70-'7l. And ! although the blitz he described was ! hurled from heavy siege guns, and not ifrorn Dornier or Heinkel bombing jplanes, passage upon passage might well be taken for a faithful record of I our, own experiences today: .. . | "the most terrific cannonade yet," i Goncourt wrote on January 15. ;" 'Blimey, what a racket!' remarks a working man as he runs past. | The house rocks in its foundations, shaking all the old dust from picture rails and ceilings. .. ." Step by step the chronicler unfolds the sufferings of the people ... for the first two months, while the siege was still taken in good humour, to the terrible winter months when the joke turned to bitter earnest. "Shelters ... . night raids . . . famous buildings shattered . . . and so on , • « and so on. ..." v .