Lighter Reading

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 10, Issue 64, 18 December 1946, Page 1 (Supplement)

Lighter Reading

STORIES FROM EVERYWHERE INTEMPERATE ZONE . During the African campaign Minister Churchill arrived one sundown at the tent of General Sir Bernard Montgomery, hungry and thirsty—particularly thirsty. He made his wants known, giving a drink of whisky number one priority on his list. The General—a noted teetotaler —said reprovingly that he personally considered alcoholic drinks exceedingly harmful. “Moreover,” added Monty, “I don’t smoke, I eat very sparingly, I get regular exercise and am therefore in perfect physical condition.” Churchill reflected briefly, then solemnly replied, “I eat whatever I can get, General. I smoke from early morning until late at night and never under any circumstances indulge in exercise. And I, to, am in perfect condition.” Then eyeing the discomfited Montgomery mirthfully, he added, “And now, General, what about that drink?” TALE TAILS After the close of the Spanish-American War, from The Philippine Islands came reports stating that Army explorers had discovered a tribe of savage tailed people in the jungle of Luzon. Later a photograph of a tailed man reached the outsideworld, and thousands of postcard reprints were sold. t : .'■■■• -; According to experts who saw the picture, it was a fake. But it is true that many of the Igorot head-hunters of Luzon wear fantastic costumes with tails, as do various aboriginal tribes all over the Malay Archipegago. But there is no scientific record of a race of people born with tails. Embryologists inform us that every normal human being has a tail during the embryo stage, but this tail is completely overgrown by neighbouring parts as the child develops. Occasionally, however,, a child is born with an external tail. There are many authentic cases. A baby born in 1928 at Knoxville, Tennessee, had a tail seven inches in length, and several years earlier a boy was discovered at Baltimore with an external tail nine inches long. The longest human tail oh record, however;' was a ten-inch tail found on a. twelve-year-old boy in French Indo-China. WAR AGAINST RATS To the inhabitants of Tristan da Cunha, farthest flung outpost of the British Empire, the war meant but one thing—that their supply of rat traps was in danger of being cut off. Since 1882, when a shipwreck brought the first brown rats to their lonely South Pacific island, they have waged an incessant war against the -intruders. Then they had no cats, traps or poison with which to combat them and the rats multiplied so rapidly that one year half of the potato crop was destroyed and it was futile to attempt to grow any grain. The people had to resort to “ratting days,” when, they all went out with clubs and massacred hundreds of rats. If Tristan were not far from the steamer lanes, the situation today might not be so critical. But as it was 1920 before the 156 inhabitants ever knew of the first world 'war, it is very doubtful tbday whether ships are going out of their way to bring them their desperately needed rat traps. . THE SHAVIAN WAY At Ayo.t, St. Lawrence, 'in England, Postmistress Mrs Jisbell Lyth has a'full-time job handling only one individual’s mail. It’s that of George Bernard Shaw. For the past 14 years the famous playwright has bought his stamps in five pound lots, writing out each order. One day Mrs Lyth asked him why the longhand; “My dear woman,” Shaw replied, “don’t complain. You’ll get five shillings for each autograph when I’m dead.” “I’m not waiting for that,” she retorted. “I have a market now at 10 shillings.” Part of Mrs Lyth’s time is devoted to directing Shavian pilgrims to the shrine, for which she usually receives generous tips fromdhe grateful tourists. She mentioned to Shaw that she believed she could make a living sitting outside his gate and charging a penny for the privilege of walking up the avenue leading-to the shrine. “Make it half a crown,” Shaw replied, “and I’ll bring a chair down, sit beside you and split the spoils.” Mrs Lyth te’ls the reason for Shaw’s coming to live at Ayot Ft. Lawrence. Many years ago hejourneyed th’ough and was struck by its rusticsimplicity, ar 1 charm. He took a stroll and cameto the village graveyard. Studying the tombstones, he found that the average age of the dead was well up in the 90’s. He rushed to her nost office and demanded a real estate agent, crying, ; “This is the place for me!” "