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Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 7, Issue 404, 27 August 1918, Page 2

A writer in an Australian paper becomes jocular at the expense of the painting trade He says: "Have you ever observed the way of a painter with a fence ?" The way of a man with a maid is straightforward compared with it. He stands deep in thought for a while. Then be mixes bis colour, with frequent pauses for meditation He puts on a brushful and steps hack, lighting his pipe, to observe the effect. If there is an hotel handy, he sends his apprentice for an inspiring pint. Drink* mgtbis, with his eyes still on the splash of colour, he shakes his head and mixes more umber into the paint, puts on another brushful. Too dark! More white lead is put in. Too light! More umber. Too dark! More whitelead. Too cold! More ochre. Too warm! More umber Too dark! And so it goes on. Each brushful requires consideration. He has lunch, still considering. I tell you, painting a fence demands as much thought as lying under a fig tree."