AROUND THE HUTS

Arawa Guerilla, Issue 17, 1 August 1943, Page 4

AROUND THE HUTS

Y.M.C.A. ' Dick Heyward is now back, thereby relieving the relief, and also relieving the relief who was relieving the relief. Dick says that when he came back he couldn’t get his trousers to go round his waist. This, he says, proves that he was being overworked before. We have our own ideas about the real reason.

The other afternoon not a single Maori turned up for afternoon tea. When an effort was made to solve the mystery it was found that every man Jack was busy spending his break cleaning boots and rifles in expectation of a battalion parade. Who was the officer who put the wind up them? The Back Door. It doesn’t take the W.A.A.C.’s long to find their way around. They have discovered the back door to the buffet already and get in on the ground floor at teatime. Several of the lasses are getting their ping-pong tuned up and soon should be in a position to knock over a few male champions. The hut is getting, if not bigger,

at least better every day. We have now, believe it. or not, ventilators tastefully inserted in each end of the hut. We don’t know whether this was brought about by “'Guerilla’s” stifled moans on the subject or not, but we breathe again. Major Laffey dashed round and produced the palms which grace the stage and improve the appearance of the hut. During the same, or another, dash, he acquired a sizeable grant for improving the stage. This job will be proceeded with shortly. Nice work! Dancing Lessons.

There have been many aspirants for the post of dancing .master to Tilly of the Tolls. We got the impression that Mr. Spraggon thought he had the job in the bag, but it looks as if Mr. Deane is going to make the grade. We don’t know whether his holiday has upset him or not, but Dick gave Charley the shock of his life the other day. Charley was in bed when the door opened and in walked Dick, bringing with him Charley’s breakfast. So Charley wrapped himself around a huge pile of bacon and eggs. Don’t do it again, Dick! (I won’t!Dick.) Our postmistress threatens to resign. The Maori names are getting her down. She was heard calling out • in her sleep the other night, “Tele-

grams for Ptes. Poehakeni, Puhirore, Wharehinga, Whareaitu and Wehi-

peihana.” ... , . . A . After the Air Force Band had put ? n their show they were entertained m the hut to supper. At the finish we k , ori t know who was , the more tired--the bandsmen, who had just finished their third show that day, or Dick, w h° finally_got packed up at about midnight. The band made nattering remarks about the hospitality they had received, and everybody went home to bed. , ' * * *