In the Rest of Humour

Otago Witness, Issue 4032, 23 June 1931, Page 68

In the Rest of Humour

(Copyright.—For the Otago Witness.)

SAY IT WITH CARDS.

By

ELLIS PARKER BUTLER.

Not so long ago the only person who sent another a card was the one-eyed bandit who sent his victim the ace* of spades as a warning and then went around and shot six holes in his gizzard. Along about 1888 a lady named Fiffit—she was born a Blickoff, but married Emory Montgolfier Fiffit—was eating alphabet soup, and, when she got home, she found she had spilled four of her soup letters down her bosom, or “ buzzuni.” as it was then pronounced. Tlie question was what to do with the four letters.—which were P, R, S, and V—and she was pushing them around on her dresser, having removed them from where they had been, when they fell into the ord'er R.S.V.P. This gave her an idea, and she immediately had some cards engraved with the letters R.S.V.P. in one corner, inviting somebody to something. For quite a while Mrs Fiffit had everything all her own way. When people received her cards, they took a sheet of

note paper and a pen and wrote “ Sure, I’ll come! ” or “ You bet, I’ll be there with bells on! ” or “Not on your life! Take your old party and rub it in your hair.” But presently a lady named Oogleheim, who was in good society, but had a lot of trouble with her spelling—she always wrote “ You'res recieved ” — got tired of having her spelling laughed at and had some cards engraved to send to Mr& Fiffit and the other R.S.V. people when they sent her invitation cards. Mrs Oogleheim’s cards were engraved “ Mrs Montmorency Oogleheim accepts with pleasure Mrs ’s invitation for the th.” And down in one corner was engraved “N.Y., U.S.A.” This did not mean much, and she had not got it out of the alphabet soup, but it went Mrs Fiffit one letter better than the Fiffit “ R.S.V.P.” and it started the great card competition that is now reaching its climax.

It used to be that, if you wanted to do the thing right, you had to go to an engraver and have your cards engraved. If your dog got a new flea, for instance, you went to the engraver and had a card engraved with the words “Mr and Mrs Olean Shultz beg to announce that their rug-hound, Alice, has acquired a new flea. Please omit flowers.” Now all you have to do is to go to the stationery store and ask the clerk: “ Have ypu got a card I can send to folks? My dog has a new flea.” He will show you an assortment to choose from. He Will show you one that reads: “Mr and Mrs beg to announce that has ». Please omit .” All you need do is fill in the blanks. Thus you can make it read: “Mr and Mrs Olean Shultz beg to announce that Fido has the mange. Please omit jeers.” Or you can make°it read: “Mr and Mrs Shultz beg to announce that baby has a tooth. Please t»mit presents.”

The card has now passed out of the social sniff class into the great domain of modern efficiency and stands with the self-starting automobile and the canned baked bean as a symbol of progress and proficiency. Personally I think it is being carried a little too far, partaking somewhat of the flavour of the form letter that was sent to the man who, when he complained that he had found a wire nail in the last cask of cheese, received this answer: “Yours of the at hand informing us that you found a —in the shipment of • We regret that these accidents will happen. Kindly return the at your convenience and we will «nve you credit. We assure you that we — your business and consider you one of our best customers. Yours . truly/’ Even my butcher is getting the card habit, but he pins on the meat in his window: “ Fresh , cents per lb.” My electric light company has been at it a long while, sending me now and

then a little token of affection that reads: “ Unless your bill is paid by the —-th, we will shut off the juice,” or words to that effect. I can see that, if the card habit increases much more, we are going to be able to go through life without using our own intelligence at all. We will do it with cards on every occasion. My wife will sit at her desk and reach for card No. 98767 and, having filled in the spaces, will send it to o\r butcher, who will lead it: “Mrs E. P. Butler regrets to inform Mr Schmid that the chops sent .Thursday were too long in the shank and too thin in the bulge.” The same card, filled in properly, will do as well for our butcher’s reply:‘“ Mr Schmid regrets to inform Mrs E. P. Butler that the chops sent Thursday were the shortest in the shank and the thickest in the bulge then available.” I can see that for middle-aged flirts who have written love-letters that later appeared in court when the lady sued for breach of promise and one million dollars damages, the. engraved card will be a life-saver. The sappy old fellow who used to reach for a pen and so lose himself in the throes of composing a love-letter that he ended by inditing to the chemical blonde words like “Meet your poppa-woppa at Shelmonico’s at 8, my d6ar future wiffy-biffy, and there’ll be dinner and love and kisses. Your ownywoney Bunny-rabbit,”—that man will find the stock card No. 45376 worth its weight in gold. It is engraved “Mr requests the pleasure of the company of Miss at dinner at — at — o’clock, ■ , 193—. Matrimony not intended.” J

Life thus becomes more and more simplified. Instead of rudely shouting “Fore!” the well-informed golfer now sends his caddy to the slow foursome ahead of him, with card saying: “Mr

Ghills presents his compliments and begs to inform Mr Giffey and party that he intends immediately to drive through.” And one taxi driver—when bumped by another—hands the offending rival a card that has the blank places properly filled in to read: “Mr Sass>si begs to inform Mr Dunkwesser that he is a • . Kindly omit flowers.” Mr Dunkwesser then fills in a card and hands it to Mr Sassisi, who reads on it “ Mr Joseph L. Dunkwesser respectfully informs Mr Sassisi that he can go to . 8.Y.0.” In case the gentlemen’s fountain pens do not work well, and they remain too long inert, a man in blue uniform will come to them and hand them a card reading: “Mr Officer Casey begs to inform Mr that he is summoned to appear in the court at o’clock, , 193—.” And in the corner of the card are the words “ Bring cash.” The engraved card has come to stay. The evidence of this is that there has just been put on the market one that reads as -follows:—“President of the United States begs to inform inquiring parties that he does choose to run. The blank may be filled in or not, as desired.