Sense and Nonsense

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume LXXXIII, Issue 20127, 21 April 1928, Page 13 (Supplement)

Sense and Nonsense

Random Reflections of a Laughing Philosopher

(BY ROBERT MAGILL)

LADY—and feel sure that she must be a perfect lady—writes to me from Bournemouth asking advice on bridge. She asked what she ought to call if she holds a few clubs, a couple of hearts, hardly any spades, and a lot of diamonds. Having played with ladies, 1 find this fairly easy to answer. Stand back and let the dog see the rabbit. “Oh, is it my call? Did you call anything, dear? I wasn't listening. Let’s see, one spade means that you want me to go no trumps, or is it the other way about? If Igo one diamond it doesn’t beat one spade, does it? Do you know, I went to that new place for tea, and, my dear, who do you think was sitting at the next table? Why, that girl who came round here for a job as nurse and got so stuck up because I wanted her to wear a cap and apron in the afternoons. You ought really to come down and have lessons in the waltz from that new man with the side whiskers. He’s divine—“Oh, is it my call? Let’s see, did you call anything? A spade? I haven’t got any spades. Ought Ito call you out? I suppose I ought to pass, really, but wait a minute. Is that somebody crying up in the nursery? Go and listen, dear, will you? Those new bags down at Thompson’s are the last word, but they’re getting so common. Are you waiting for me? I don’t know what to call, but I suppose I must call something. Did you hear about Airs Wilson? You did? But they say “Oh, yes. It’s my call, isn’t it? Wait till I sort my cards, and don’t be so impatient, dear. We can’t all play as well as you can. Some of us have got other things to think of. I was only thinking this morning that if I took the lace off that pink set of mine “Oh, I see, it’s me you’re waiting f0r....” Mind you, you won’t find this sort of thing in the columns written by the recognised experts, but these experts don’t play with the people I play with. Scene ll.—Capulet’s Garden, near the Patent Improved Sanitary Dustbin (Noise of motor-cycle, off. Enter Romeo.) Romeo: He jests at scars that never tore his trousers.

On the broken glass that crowns a garden wall. (Juliet appears at window above, and lights a cigarette;. But ’struth! What light has broken yonder window? It is the sun—but no, it’s Juliet’s pyjamas. They’re fierce enough to make the moon go green, And none but fools do wear them. Cast them off— But not here, of course, in front of all this crowd. She speaks, but she says nothing. How like a woman. Juliet: Ob, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Romeo: Aly godfathers and godmothers worked if un me When I was too young to argue. Juliet: Oh, it’s you, is it? There’ll be trouble if they catch you, Especially as you’ve trodden on the flower beds. r Did you want anything? Romeo: Well, I like that. Lady, by yonder moon I swear---Juliet: Don’t swear. You missed your stroke because your stance was wrong. I suppose you mean you are in love with me. Well, come to that, I go all soupy when I look at you. But love, according to Havelock Ellis, Is just a biological phenomenon Consisting of an excitation of the erotogenous zones. You get it cured by any psycho-analyst. Romeo: You’ve got it all wrong kid. I meant Holy Matrimony Juliet: Y’ou must be dippy. Pick the straws out of your hair. That ancient superstition’s been exploded long ago. Romeo: Honest. I mean it. And besides, if we don’t like it, It simply means a hotel bill, and alimony. Juliet: Well, if you can stick it, I’ll try anything once. Romeo: Oh, boy, some bird! I’ll tell the world. Juliet:, You need not. I’ll give all the papers Interviews myself to-morrow. Good night. (Exeunt).