AFTER-DINNER WIT.

Hawera Star, Volume XLVI, 22 January 1927, Page 11

AFTER-DINNER WIT.

A MINOR- -corse of t-iiis -age— is—tlie- “ wittieist. ” I f it be ob.iee.ted that there is no such word as 4‘witticist ’■' even in cross-word dictionaries, I reply that- there ought to be, for people who have to attend many public dinners will agree that wit has given place to witticism (H. K. Cook in the Daily Mail).

The wit of the perfect after-dinner speech is mellow, a little elusive, never, obvious. It- should have point, but it is not a nail to be hammered. The ideal of the after-dinner speaker before the war was good sense illustrated by an occasional good story, a good story the appreciation of which demanded something from the hearer as well as from the teller.

Our after-dinner ■‘ ‘ witticists ” qf today appear to take as their model the type of music-hall comedian (mercifully less common than of old) who used to come on to the stage and fire off a battery, of stories over which he laughed as much as anybody else.

The stories had no relevance to anything; most of them were old, but, old or new, they were entirely disconnected. People laughed —partly out of good humour; the performer was obviously so anxious to get his laughs — but they sighed with relief when it ended.

The truth seemed to be that the modern after-dinner speaker of the “witticist” order—and by this I do not mean the genuine wit like Mr Augustine Birrell—is naturally rather a, dull fellow. He is doubtful of his own capacity-to combine sense with wit; he has nothing much to say, but he is determined to earn the epithet of “iwitty. ”