Feminine Interests

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 634, 10 April 1929, Page 5

Feminine Interests

THE GREAT SLUMP!

I had read of the great slump in the stock market, so I was not surprised to see George wander in one evening with that 2-per-cent, expression that generally accompanies a depreciation in his fortunes. ' Well, George,” I said thoughtlessly, “what’s the news?” X realised at once the slip I had made; but it was too late. George is not generally a talkative man, but it took 10 minutes by the clock to reply to my merely formal question, which he must have known I never meant him to take literally. “But, George,” I said at last. “I thought I saw in the paper somewhere that steel was looking a little brighter?” . “Haven't got any steel,” growled George. “That’s why it's looking a little brighter.” “Well,” 1 pursued, “what about those compressed coal shares you were so keen on last year?” “All gone up in smoke,” said George gloomily. I did not seem to be doing very well as a ministering angel. I tried another line. “I see,” I remarked intelligently, ‘that cements are hardening.” “Ah!” George drew a deep sigh. “But beer's going down!” “Still, George, you’ve got those Amalgamated Dyers’ Debentures, haven t you? How are they looking?” Pretty black,” said George in a grey voice. “I thought from the report that they were a shade better this week. And, after all, George, as Peter Pan said. To dye will be an awfully big debenture! ” It is no use trying to be witty with Geoige when shares are low. George's sense of humour follows with unerring exactitude the rise and fall of the stock market. You can almost tell, by the promptness with which George sees a joke, the state of yesterday’s closing prices. I thought it better to change the subject altogether. “What do you think of the weather, George?” I asked. “I think the temperature’s risen a bit, hasn’t it?” “Not appreciably,” said George, who seemed to be thinking of something else. “There was a big drop reported yesterday.” “Yes, but there was quite a sharp advance to-day. Several points.” "Was there?" asked George, eagerly. “Where did you see that?” “Why, in this morning’s paper.” “No, really? Was there a report published?” “Yes, the usual one, you know. Rain over most parts of the country, with brighter intervals in the south-east.” The brighter interval on George’s face gave way to a deep depression. ' “I didn’t know you were only talking about the weather.” “Of course. Wero’nt you?” “I was talking about tin,” said George, in a voice that bled.

Single mindedness is a very desirable quality, no doubt; but I began to wish George possessed it in a less estimable degree. I searched my mind for a more favourable topic than finance, for I knew there was no consolation for George in Consols, nor was he in the mood to find in industrials any gilt-edged security. “Wliat books have you been reading lately, George?” I asked, using the formula that has filled a thousand gaps. “Books?” He appeared to recall himself from a vast distance. “Oh, ah! Books. That reminds me. I picked up a rather good book the other day about South Africa, called ‘Kaffirs in Clover.’ ” “It sounds like a mining report,” I said without thinking. “Or a revue,” I added hastily. “Talking of reviews,” said George, T saw one yesterday.” “Good. Did yon enjoy it?” “Not a bit. It was rotten.” “Bad luck. What was it about?” “Kaffirs,” said George, miserably. “Not in clover.” He sighed deeply. Poor George! I longed to offer him a cigarette, but [ was afraid it might stimulate some wild speculation in the tobacco industry. Then a bright thought struck me. “Have you ever been introduced to the Binkson-Bells, George?” I asked. “No. What are they? Gramo phones?” “Don’t be silly. And do stop thinking stocks and shares for a few minutes. The Binkson-Bells are friends of mine who live just down the road.” “Ordinary or preference?” I was determined to ignore George’s morbid obsession. “Suppose,” I went on, “I telephone them to come along? They’re awfully keen on bridge. We might have a rubber——” It was an unfortunate remark. It opened up like a magic spring George’s deepest industrial emotions. By the time George had finished expressing himself on the rubber situation it was too late for me to do anything but urge him to go home.