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OLD KAITAIA.

A LETTER FROM ALF. To Old Bert, Auckland. Dear Bert, —Nothing startling up here since last week. Rain came in time to save the situation —the situation at Bill Treacher’s I mean. You know there are such a lot who “tak: a drop ot water with it” and water being scarce trade was falling off. Now things are O K again. Of course the rain helped “the man on the land” as the newspapers say.

A recent visitor to our famous Ninety-mile beach by Ahipura’s golden shores, 1 rt lus car standing near the water line, took a stroll in search of pipis, and returned to find the sad sea waves lapping the wheels of his “gasbuggy.” After a lot of puffing and pulling and swearing the chariot was saved from conversion to a seaplane on the vasty deep. With the tide coming in the sands of our beautiful beach are like the promises of a politician.

Defaulting ratepayers up here have been askeefto take the wink that is commonly supposed to be as good as a nod and pay up. Our Charlie is a man of peace, but as Tontalina, or some other character has remarked, there is “no damned nonsense about him” when it comes to collecting rates. Charlie has dealt out “final” notices, but these are-not, like Tennyson’s Brook, to go on for ever. I agree with you Bert that the business of meetings should be transmitted on briefer lines. To cut out long-winded discussions I suggest that a meeting be instituted whereby reports, etc,, be placed before meetings in concrete form (or blue road metal) which would require only the yea or nay of member. Under my idea, any member or councillor speaking for more than two minutes at a stretch should be invited to show cause why the sentence of death or something harsher should not be passed upon him. As an alternative he made ride in a motor car without balloon tyres at a pace of 60 miles an hour between Kaitaia and the Cross-roads. He would be dead by the time he reached the Crossroads anyhow. I see by the fashion plates in the Weekly Snooze that the girls’ skirts (young and old) are getting shorter again. Funny how they chop and change, but mostly chop these days. Reminds me of old Harry who went down to Auckland at Easter a coupler years ago. When fie came back to Kaitaia and the boy asked him how things were he said: “By

Gee, yoa can’i beat Auckland. When I was diwn last year the girls had their dresses cut rlghtaway round the neck and down the back. This year they had ’em cut up ter th knees. Auckland’l do me next year.” Talking about Auckland I notice your papers are trying to increase their bloated circulations with cross word puzzles. They are the limit. Here is what an old man battling with a herd of cows in Taranaki says to the editor of the local paper. Sir, —I wrote to you last week about your new square puzzle. I thought I had got it nearly right as far as I had gone, but when I got to the factory on Monday morning everybody was laughing at me and the blunders I had made. Have you ever noticed after a big dividend at the races how everybody “had half a ticket on it ?” Well, so it was about the puzzle; everybody had it right but me. On Monday night when I got my paper ([ told told you that I always get my paper on Monday after my neighbour has finished with it) I had a good look at the correct answers, and, my word, Mr. Editor, it was clever of you. How nicely you got all those little words to fit. I had a go at the new puzzle, and missis and Emily are all keen on it. We have got it all worked out except the poetic word for even and the blood of the gods. We have left Westward Ho and Faerie Queene, because that’s poetry and there is no time for poetry on a farm. Why don’t you stick to plain English anyhow? The blood of the gods has got us all thinking. I asked Bob Jenkins, the factory manager. He says it’s a poetic way of saying wine or something good to drink. He is going to ask the secretary when he sees him, because he went to High School. I think it must be something to do with wine because we have got alcol, and that looks a bit alcoholic, and it might be right. I can see now where the educational value of the puzzle comes in. 1 think you ought to get John Doe to use the words in his “Reflections;” people would read them then. I hope you will keep on with the puzzles, but please keep away

from poetry and mythology and Faerie Q.ieenes. Until next week Huroo BERT. Kaitaia 9/4/25. P.S. Can you lend me a couple of quid until wool gets back to 40d. again. Typographical errors are always regrettable; sometimes they are also annoying. A Southern (U.S.A.) editor wanted to compliment a certain Kentucky colonel (there are no privates in Kentucky), and wrote of him as a “battle-scarred veteran.” type-setter made it read “battlescared.” The colonel called, armed and ferocious, and the editor promised to make amends. This is how it looked when it tound its way into type: “We referred to Colonel Bang as a battle-scared veteran. Of course all who know colonel will understand we could only have meant ‘bottle-scarred’ veteran.” The editor now sleeps with his toes to the daisies.

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NORAG19250409.2.5

Bibliographic details

Northland Age, Volume 24, Issue 50, 9 April 1925, Page 2

Word Count
952

OLD KAITAIA. Northland Age, Volume 24, Issue 50, 9 April 1925, Page 2

OLD KAITAIA. Northland Age, Volume 24, Issue 50, 9 April 1925, Page 2

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