POSTSCRIPTS

Evening Post, Volume CXXXII, Issue 77, 27 September 1941, Page 8

POSTSCRIPTS

Chronicle and Comment

BY PERCY FLAGE

Headline: "Finland Faces Famine." Then: Famine Freezes Finns. # # # We understand that the Fuhrer takes his nights off working on his latest book, "Mem Dekamp." # * * The rattlesnake of the Atlantic reminds us of a tuatara on a gooseberry bush. # # * Those in glass houses should not throw stones, and that goes for tha owners of hothouses also. . # * ' * HEARD THIS ONE? An old coloured preacher who was J baptising members of his flock by immersion noticed one man who seemed to hold back. "Is you been baptised, brother?" he asked. "Yes, I'se been baptised." "An' who baptised you?" "Why, de Episcopal done baptised me." "Why, brotheh," ex-plained the preacher, "that wahn't no baptism, dat wuz jus' dry cleanin'." #*' * . KARL MARX HADN'T ONE; Can any reader tell me whether "the 7 great Russian generals who are now smashing the Hun" wear the old school tie? I well recollect reading a short time ago a British Army Brass Hat declaring that one could not command unless he had the old school tie. P.S.—You will no doubt recollect the occasion, as I think it caused a great outcry, and he lost his job through it. Yours, J. V. FARRELL. j * ■* ' * SIMPLE. Here is a pleasant story told by Lord Mottistone about the crew of a trawler that had been so successful in shooting down German dive-bombers that an officer was sent to ask the skipper for. a report on his methods. This, according to Lord Mottistone, is what the trawler skipper told the officer: "I call out: 'George!' and George says, 'Ay, ay, sir!' Then I say: 'Aeroplane reported, George.' George says: 'Ay, ay, sir.' Then I say: 'Shoot the blighter.' He says: 'Ay, ay, sir.' "And then George shbots him." t * * CELEBRATION. There is more humour in Barnsley, Yorkshire, than anywhere else, writes A.T. A good example was quoted by a recent broadcaster. Three miners, straight from the pit, came into a wellknown shop. One of them said: "We want to see some clocks. We're makin' a presentation to 'im (pointing to • the smallest of the three),' for 'is Gowden Weddin'." Finally the little chap couldn't decide .which of two clocks he liked best. Said the jeweller: "Let your wife come in and de-^ cide." The miner told him: "Not likely.. She's nowt to do wi' it." "I like that," said the jeweller, "when I've just been given an inscription to put on—'Presented to you on the occasion of your golden wedding!'"" "Aye, that's right," the little chap replied, "but it's not her Golden Weddin'—it*s me wot's been married fifty years—an' she's my third wife.", The third wife gave a party at which the clock was solemnly presented to the little man on his golden wedding. (Contributor: B.B.) #-■ # * " .' ■ SCHOOL'S IN. Do you know that— 1. A pin dropped at one end of the Mormon Tabernacle, Salt Lake City, : can be heard at tlie other end, 250 feet away? 2. Caves in Jerusalem built neairly 3000 years ago by King Solomon have been turned into air-raid shelters. . . . They hold 6000 people? 3. Finger-nails of gold, silver, and bronze, which are Hollywood's latest fashion, are fitted on with glue? 4. To get a job on the films a Scot had all his teeth drawn when told that a toothless character was wanted in a new film? 5. The first motor-car to be given a . registration number Al was a 12 h.p. Napier belonging to the second Earl ' Russell? 6. The eyes of all birds, excepting owls and hawks, are monocular in the ' sense that-they see different objects- • with each eye? 7. So that friends can find his 'phone number easily, Donald Kelley, of Bos-, ' ton, Mass., is down in the book as Donald Kelly Zzyzen? 8. To meet the normal demands of Britain's civil population, manufacturers of shoes and boots must turn out 93,500,000 pairs a year? 9. Diamonds worth £12,000,000 are sold in a normal year, 80 per cent, of them going to America? 10. Tea mixed with a vegetable oil is drunk by newly-married couples in Burma, to toast each other and their guests? * • ■ ' ' * * * THE SHELL-LADY. Hers is the harvest of the golden sands'. Her swift, frail hands Move like white birds, and sort unerringly The gathered shells. This one to be A slender poppy blowing in the rain. These, hyacinths. Again The small hands dart, and quickened dafifpdils Leap on wild hills ' Enchantedly. Such lovely things these old eyes see. Now musingly her fingers hold Sea-petals of transparent gold. What flower shall come? A Chinese rose Softer than dusk, whose sweetness will not close, Wither, or die? That spray of pear Lives at her touch, and scents the air. Blossoms from shells. The gentle, smiling eyes Ponder new dreams. So old and wise This harvester of golden sands With frail, swift hands. R. North Auckland. * * # HORI. During the 1917 winter in France firewood was very scarce, and our cook found it very difficult to get sufficient to provide meals for the boys. He had a Maori assistant, who mentioned to me that he knew of a dump of empty ammunition boxes about a couple of miles down the road, and what about getting a load? I in> mediately put one of the horses'1 in the Cape cart and off we went, and on arrival we backed the .cart up against the dump and commenced to load the boxes. When we had a number aboard , I glanced along the road, and, to my surprise, saw a staff officer, all dressed for-the part, approaching, and I said: "Hori, look what's coming." The Maori looked along the road and said: "Keep on loading and leave him to me." The officer came up and exclaimed: "What are you men doing with those boxes?" And Hori replied: "We are going to shift the dump a couple of miles along the road." "Well," said the officer, "do you mind if I take a few?" And Hori said: "No! But don't take too many." TOMMY.