"ALICE" REDIVIVUS

Otago Daily Times, Issue 23685, 17 December 1938, Page 20

"ALICE" REDIVIVUS

By A. P. They were all there at the tea party—the Dormouse, who had gone to sleep on unemployment, the Ma*d Hatter with his wheelbarrow, the White Rabbit counting his surpluses before they were hatched, and the Gryphen talking mournfully of his toy soldiers, while over all the Cheshire Cat sat in his tree*and grinned, just grinned. Alice was greatly struck with the deference they all paid to this creature. "For. after all," she murmured, "it's just a cat." The cat, however, seemed to read her thoughts, and shouted to Alice. "No strangers admitted to the Cabinet! " "Unless, of course, your Majesty," interposed the White Rabbit, " the stranger can say some poetry," And, turning to Alice, he v said, "Try, my dear." So little Alice started: Socialism Is vexation, The Bolshles just as bad, Your " Guarantee," it puzzles me, And " Transport" drives me mad. But the last line was drowned by all the Cabinet shrieking, " She's murdering the tune! " When quiet was restored a still, small voice from the West Coast remarked, "You can do better than that. Alice." " Yes, I know, but it all seems to come wrong, somehow. I'll try 'How doth the little.'" And very diffidently the little girl started: How doth the little Bolshevics Destroy each Constitution. White ants the works and works the ants Which ends in revolution. But this caused such an uproar that Alice got up indignantly, and started to run away. But the White Rabbit stopped her, saying, " If you would only try to help me out of the money muddle, instead of making it worse by quoting bad poetry. . . . Can't you see we're in a fix? " But the Cheshire Cat broke in. "Now then! You told the people in last night's broadcast that it was all right, part of the plan, and now you talk of 'muddle'. Lad! Lad! You mustn't go back on the party! " And all the Cabinet turned reproachful eyes upon him. and even the Dormouse said " Don't! " in nis sleep. The cat proceeded. "Don't you see, we must put all this on the other fellow. His propaganda is weak, anyhow, and if we can get away with it, it's all to the good. Let's say its all the fault of the wicked Nationalists. You'll be surprised how they'll swallow it! " "I believe you," said the West Coast. " They swallowed the Social Security Bill, gobbled it, in fact, and if they take that they'll swallow anything." This broke up the party, who all promised to put it on to the other fellow—all except the Gryphen, who broke into his mournful chant: FINANCIAL SOUP We're in the soup! Did ever you think Of the infernal financial stink A dozen mad theorists easily make When they dish up a " stew" that is only a " fake," Boil up a mess of " humanities smell Addled by " plans " like the road to hell? We're in the soup! Financial slaughter, Garnished with theories of Joe and Walter, Dash of the Major of Douglas fame. Seasoned with pure Socialistic grain; Still we come back to the same old " ploop," Still in the beastly financial soup. We're in the soup! It's just where he Hopes to see all of us, you and me. When all is chaos and money confusion, Socialists then can enforce their delusion, Take over the reins of the larger firms, Run workmen's Soviets, and like concerns. "We're in the soup!" That mournful strain Dominates life like the falling rain, . Covering all with a ghastly spell Of ruin, red ruin, a funeral knell. All who've been thrifty, all who have saved. They'll pocket it all as sure as the gnwsl