Mundane Musings

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 101, 20 July 1927, Page 4

Mundane Musings

Wet Paint

Written for THE SUN.

I wonder why a notice board bearing the words “Wet Paint” will so provoke the human race that all who see its kindly warning must immediately prove to themselves the truth of the statement. Why must you and I, and Mr. Brown, Mr. Jones, Mrs. Smith and all the little Smiths just touch it to make quite sure it is wet paint? The thoughtful painter hangs out his board to tell us that it is w’et paint, and yet faithless unbelievers that we are, we must make certain for ourselves. Our finger-tips must prod and disfigure the painter’s work to satisfy our curiosity on this point. I remember when at a school, the doors of which were newly painted, some five hundred sets of little fingers successfully proved to their owners the unimpeachable truthfulness of notice-boards. All the little Smiths and Browns and Jones left their fingerprints upon those doors; my own being not the least conspicuous. Another warning exhibited for our well-being “Do not talk to the driver” has just the same provoking tendencies. I, for one, instantly think of several things I would like to say to that driver, but, fortunately, my sense of duty here steps in and bids me obey the order. Nevertheless it is provoking. Such is the perverseness of our nature that to prohibit any certain thing is to instantly make it the more desirable in our eyes. Our eyes read “thou shalt not,” but our inclination reads it “now I want to do it.” It can’t be helped—its human nature and, in short, its Us all over! Ask us to keep off the grass, or keep out from some ex-citing-looking excavations going forward, and we will all be there pushing and shoving to see what’s to-do; while to hang the irritating “Silence” notice up is to taunt and goad us to rebel. We must say something when we see that order! Say to us “Don’t look round my dear, but there’s that awful Mrs. So-and-so sitting just behind, and find the man or woman who won’t look! It can’t be done! Like Lot’s wife we’d have to look behind: though we should be transformed into pillars of salt we’d have one look. And Lot’s wife proves to us what an ancient trait in our characters this perverseness is. We must make certain for ourselves: we are all followers of the creed that seeing is believing. I somtimes think our churches might be fuller if their pews were freshly painted now* and then, and a “Wet Paint” notice hung thereon. Would we have to go to church and touch that paint and thus make sure it was not quite dry? Were I a clergyman with a dwindling congregation I’d be inclined to paint a different pew each week, and test the theory out: - DOROTHY LITTLE