Why The Egg Shortage?

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 12, Issue 49, 25 May 1948, Page 5

Why The Egg Shortage?

Beacon Gets The “Pukka Gen”: Barnyard Strike

Ask most grocers for eggs nowadays, and they just laugh. Simply throw back their heads and guffaw. The girl assistants giggle. The whole thing is rather embarrassing. Like it used to be in the early days of meat rationing when one slipped a cog and asked for a roast of pork. It appears there aren’t any eggs. Why ? , ,

“Why aren’t there any eggs?” A Beacon reporter wandered about from shop to shop asking the question that sounded sillier and sillier every time he asked it. The weight of evidence confirmed his early suspicions that it was because the hens weren’t laying. He got a variation of that obvious answer from the man who leaned his elbows on the counter, assumed a mildly pitying expression and explained slowly, patiently, as to an idiot child: “It’s this way: There aren’t any eggs because the people here don’t like duck eggs. It’s been so wet lately all the hens have grown webbed feet and started to quack instead of cackling. Now their owners are afraid the eggs will be like duck eggs, and they’re not game to put ’em on the market. So we’ve got no eggs.” That story didn’t seem plausible, but our reporter decided to submit it to the public for what it is worth as light entertainment. Strangely enough, it transpires that if the Government is responsible at all it is only indirectly responsible. On this occasion none of the people interviewed tried directly to blame politicians or tax-gath-erers, which is unusual. Most unusual.

Still, the evidence gathered is rich in dark hints that maybe some-one could do something about it. And who, if not the Government? It appears the hens have struck for better rations. They w;ant good, wholesome wheat, the stuff that keeps them warm and chirpy throughout the cold winter months, the stuff that puts fat on the back and eggs in the whatsit. Merchants blush coyly and become apologetic when , one wants to know what’s the matter with the present day hen’s diet. Even the strongest of Labour’s opponents admit there’s some justice on the side of the strikers this time.

Yes, they’ll confess, Madame Chook isn’t been getting a fair go, and you can’t expect a woman to work on an empty crop. Dash it all, sir, it just isn’t British !

New Zealand’s own wheat production is not what it used to be on account of a number of farmers having given up wheat growing for# more profitable lines of endeavour, and it takes the whole of our own production plus imports to keep up with the human demand. So Madame Chook has to scratch along on a mixture of barley and pats. This sticks in the old girl’s crop. She finds it indigestible. And her boss, the poultry keeper, finds the price sticks in his gullet, particularly when if comes to buying mashes.} So he quits. And Madame Chook quits. No eggs. Q. E. D. However, next year’s pullets might be dumb enough to take what’s dished up to them and work on it. After all, the poor kids have never had decent food.