VOICE OF LONDON

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 11, Issue 55, 18 July 1947, Page 6

VOICE OF LONDON

J HOT—AND COLD ;■ HUMOROUS COMPLAINTS What Londoners think about the shortages of good and coal, particularly during the terribly cold winter experienced in England, is summed up in letters taken at random from those appearing in a February issue of the “Evening Standard”:— I get up at 6.30 and find there is no gas. I cook breakfast on an oilstove and go out to. queue up for paraffin. I try (in vain) to buy meat and fish, and soap. I walk f of a mile to buy two coal bricks and sortie logs—and I have to push them home in an old pram. I try to do some washing, but the water is frozen. I prepare an evening meal and the electricity goes off. Then the Evening Standard arrives, and I read Mr Beverley Baxter. He tells us that in Chicago work, and so I did not have to listen cereal and cream, eggs and bacon, rolls, marmalade, coffee with cream. Finally my husband comes home and says to me: “You seem rather depressed tonight.”—Mrs N. Pearce, Parkfield South Ruislip. Sunk! Once I sat in an open boat after a brawl in the Arctic Sea. This morning I woke to find no electricity in the bedroom. I went downstairs to make tea and found no gas. Fortunately the wireless did not bother about hot meals. We wash in to a fuel economy appeal. But there .was a discouraging letter from my coal' merchant. So I went back to bed and read “Three Men in a Boat.”—Alfred Wist, Warwick Avenue, Edgware. She Enjoys It

Fortunately my husband and I can still laugh—in spite of the cold and in spite of having been bombed out five times. We use candles. We don’t s If the Army had asked for a milpenny numbers and make a joke of it. In spite of all the difficulties I enjoy my life.—Mrs Emily Sowley, Stanley Road, New Southgate. War And Peace What is the matter with us?—Gerald lion gas mains to be moved to Berlin the job would have been done. For that matter, if Shaef had demanded the electrification of this entire island, that job would have been done too. We could do big jobs in wartime. Why not in peace time? Now, apparently, all we can do is to talk of having enough electricity by 1950 and enough clothes in time to get up and dress, for the Last Trump, they thawed. Then I had to use W. Lodge, Horn Lane, Woodford Green. !. Unlucky For the past few days we have been almost without lighting, heating, or water' in our house. Yet, strange to say, most of the districts round here had no cuts last week until Thursday. Why is it that some districts go almost without cuts, while others do not? Surely, these cuts could be more general, and thus less frequent.—Miss T. Segal, Hampstead Garden Suburb. On the Rafters

On the first night of the freeze- . up I spent three hours stretched out on the rafters (one slip, and"l would have been through the ceiling), directing an electric heater towards our frozen water pipes. In the end they thawed. I Then I had to use the heater to make myself thaw—it took almost as long. When I am able to buy a house I shall first consult not an architect but a plumber.—Robert, Fellows, Northway, Kinsbury. Candlelight

We kept our waste pipe from freezing by putting a block of cooking salt in the sink. And we bless our old-fashioned open-range kitchen; I bank up the first at night with a mixture of ashes and coaldust, so that when we get up a poke gives a cheerful blaze. We put water on to heat overnight. So we manage. Our main grumble is that the gas is too low to read by and we have to use candles — W. Willmott, Osborne Bldgs., Cato Street, W.II. In Darkest Streatham I am the mother of four children, writing from the North Pole, Streatham. We have had no water for three days, as well as gas shortage and electricity cuts. But I keep the same. Hot meals can be cooked slowly on low gas pressure, if you use foresight.—Mrs Irene C. Sayer, Estreham Road, Streatham. „ Tea—One Hour I am elderly and I live in a oneroom flat. It now takes nearly an hour to boil a kettle for tea to warm my bones. After that I wrap up and sit over a flicker of gas. - There must be many elderly people like me in London. We cannot afford to go out for meals. Now we can get neither warmth nor properly cooked food. I am tired of

hearing that there has been a war on. —Letter from Hampstead.

Where’s the Rest?

The Central London wife is sitting pretty. My hot water geyser has not worked since last November. Now my gas stove will not light, and I must cook for a family of four on an open fire. We are told that gas has been cut up to 50 per cent., I would like to know what becomes of the other 50 per cent. None of it comes through my pipes.—Mrs Mary Stoneman, Shepherdess Walk, Shoreditch. Soldier’s Dream For five years I have been sweltering in the Far East, longing for home and a cool spell. Not in vain. I came back just before Christmas; since then I have carried coals, stood in queues, made the beds, washed up, scoured the district for paraffin, chopped down (and up) a tree. Who said England was a better spot than Burma? I did, and I still do—but please don’t publish the name of such a mutt.—Ex-SEAC, Pinner. Pet Schemes Life is becoming almost unbearable—particularly for housewives. This lack of food and fuel shows lack of foresight by the Government. A - good housewife does not wait until her cupboard is bare before replenishing. But that is what the Government are doing. It is impossible to get the best efforts from the workers if they are cold and hungry. The Government must put our physical welfare before their pet schemes of nationalisation. Let us have more liberal and varied rations. It will be well worth while. —Mrs Mi. Coles, Longland-drive, Totteridge.

f That Scoundrel

We miss the comfort we were accustomed to in the bad old days of Tory misrule. But it is unfair to grumble about the weather—the Government have not yet nationalised that. Better a good Socialist Government with no food,. no fuel; no light and no clothes than plenty of everything with that scoundrelly. Churchill in power.—A Bunting, Verulam Road, Greenford. Housewife’s Joy It’s no great joke to run a house when you’re out of coke, with the current off as it is tonight and a dinner to cook by . candlelight. There’s not enough food for man or boy, and Mr Strachey (that housewife’s joy) offers small hopes of our getting more. I’d like to ask, if it isn’t a bore. Did we lose the peace when we, won the war?—M. H. C. Smith, Putney. It’s Fun—at 11 I am a child, and I have literally revelled in my first electricity cut because it brings back the delightful custom of sitting by candlelight. I thought that the shadows were far more friendly than those fluorescent lights, and nothing would have pleased me more than to have eaten our evening meal in this ancient manner. But no, . the electricity came on an hour later.

It is far warmer to go out in the snow than to huddle around a faint glimmer of gas. There is nothing warmer than to face the cold, and that is my answer to the grumbles of all those housewives.—Sylvia Maizels (age 11), Sheridan Gardens, Kenton.

Hungry, Too I have no - gas, no electric light, no water and no coupons. Also I am hungry—the rations are not enough. Fortunately, I can still laugh.—May Lemon, Addison Gardens, Kensington. Good Old Days For seven days we have had no water, hardly any electricity, and burst pipes. Life was much easier for our grandparents. At least they had plentiful coal, wood and oil. It was all cheap, too.—G. F. Murray, End Way, Surbiton. Test Score England v. “The Rest” Days Pipes c Burst b Frost 8 Water, retired 8 Bathroom b Flood 3 Boiler st Fuel b Rations 5 Electricity b Shinwell 7 • Father c Cold b Flue 6 Mother, not out 10 Junior c Chilblains b Snowball 4 Butcher, ran out 7 Milkman st Snow b Over 1 To bat: Plumber.

The relentless English attack caused early demoralisation to a side of which Mother was the mainstay. Several times there was a maiden over, due to the slippery condition of the wicket, which showed signs of continued flooding at close of play. It is doubtful, moreover, whether Plumber will be available tomorrow.—Mrs V. J. E. PAGE, Aragon Road, Morden, Surrey.

TE TAHI Te Tahi’s praises have been sung For centuries in the Maori tongue. Te Tahi’s fame will still live on When future centuries have gone; For Te Tahi, championed love and truth Defying persistent demands forsooth For aquisition by aggression Deceit and craft to gain possession That have cursed the sons of clay From Adam down to present day. Te Tahi, persisted in his claim Putting his crafty foes to shame; A shame that outlives its perpetrators Who rise to fame in Hell’s elevators. An abnormal love for sinful self Concentrated on this world’s pelf. Mankind’s best friend or enemy When it is used accordingly For ’tis love that makes the world go round Envoy and avarice will ’ere rebound The Te Tahi’s of the world today May go serenely on their way For kindliness and fellow feeling Will eventually succeed in healing All the ills to which flesh is heir For love knows neither defeat or dispair. H. SERGANT.