“SATURDAY WILL NOT COME ROUND HALF QUICK ENOUGH,” SAYS “MADCAP.”

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 77, Issue 153, 30 June 1934, Page 12

“SATURDAY WILL NOT COME ROUND HALF QUICK ENOUGH,” SAYS “MADCAP.”

Dear Wendy,—The expected has haj I pened as you sec, for I have arrivei r and well arrived 1 think you will agre / when you behold the magnitude of m visit and what it entails. 1 shouldnlt in the least wonder at your DeinL heartily sick of the sight of me beforb you have got half-way through thin visit. However, in that rase you end it in summary fashion by coir signing it to the flames, thereby making; it brief and welcome, particularly thb latter those times of chill winds anq nipping frosts. Would you, do yoy think, be able to stand the sight o? my pert face with its lately-acquired beauty spot, peering at you from your office fire, the while 1 roasted. I am rather doubtful about it, but anyway you could give me a prod with the poker and I am sure I’d crumple up without more ado. Still, I would ratiher you let me linger on awhile longer yet. 1 am enjoying immensely the stories in the Hut. Pago. Saturday will not come round half quick enough. Particularly did I like “Scribo's” effort. It was easy to follow, even for the young members—not too much over their heads, as it wore, and yet it was interesting for all, just the sort of story for our pages. Some moons ago, I do not know exactly how many but it is more than one or two, “PaullDaring, P.D.,” asked if my initials were I.McK. Yes, but not now. I changed them some time ago and they are now I.E.—that is, id est. To your query a« to wether 1 kept a shop in Castlecliff, a most emphatic “no!” I never kept a shop there or anywhere else that T know of, but I did at times ladle out ice cream, confections, and serve afternoon teas, etc., for a friend down there, j Did I ever sell you anything in the sweets line? I. am sure you got good measurement if I did. for those I served always came back for more, and they would talk to me and make me forget weights and measurements —not that I ever remembered them to tell the truth. If they asked for ice cream they got it to the best of my ability and from that day to this I have never been certain who profited, my friend of the shop or the customers. 1 never took particular note of those I served; 1 hadn’t time, for I had to keep a never-ending supply of smiles on hand, because ice creams and smiles go well together, especially when you’re anxious not to let it be known the cream has gone sour or the ice melted or something. But just why did you ask? I have one outstanding remembrance—no 1 believe it is two, only one eclipses the other —of one or two happenings whi’lc I came and went at Castlecliff. Once I absconded from a moving car without let or hindrance, and one of the occupants of the car was from your district. Was it by any chance you? If so, have you recovered from holding up the light or standing in the glare of one on a road not a hundred miles from Wanganui? The other occasion I remember was when an early morning train ran off tho line or something on the way to Castlecliff and 1 was the only passenger aboard, which was lucky for me, because the tram conductor was a nice-looking young man and I was able to sit and talk to him until another tram came to our rescue, which was far sooner than needs be, even though 1 was supposed to be on time. I never could understand why those trams didn’t run off the rails more often, especially when 1 was on one or the other of them twice daily; But. there it is, they didn’t. yjU think, only think, only think. “Blacl Huntsman,” that you know me. Weil living where you do I should say yoi ought to be sure about it. As fo looking out in case you might be afte me, I am not sure if that wouldn’i bo sufficient, incentive for me to lelj myself be discovered, even if I was certain I still was a mystery. My cat go out of the bag in so many places at once that it was hopeless trying to put it back, and I gave up trying loug ago. Well, here I go, my pen runing away again, so I ’ll be off before L .have used up all the page for myself. Cheerio dear Wendy. Love to all in Make-believe.—From “MADCAP,” R.G.W.8., Letterland. Well, dear, you see that once again your contribution has escaped the flames and the thought of a vision or our beauty-spotted “Madcap” paying reproach fully from the flames of a study fire is too much for even me to contemplate and so to the press! “Scribo’s” story was wonderful indeed. Oh, dear, and the mystery of your identity but takes on a JaHkicr hue. Surprising how many have “dis covered” you, isn’t it?—Wendy,