THE MAN ON THE LAND

New Zealand Listener, Volume 1, Issue 18, 27 October 1939, Page 42

THE MAN ON THE LAND

Take A Note Of These Talks: 1YA: Paspalum and its Management, by E. H. Arnold, Instructor, Dargaville. Monday, October 30, 7.40 p.m. 2YA: Live Stock Judging Competitions, by C. J.Hamblyn, Fields Superintendent, Palmerston North. Tuesday, October 31, 7.40 p.m. 4YZ: Fescue, by W. Faithtul. Tuesday, October 31, 8 p.m. A Deal in Maize The South African native suffers many disabilities, political and industrial, and to these (a South African paper says) there has lately been added an economic hardship that is causing grave misgiving among those who watch his interests. This year the Union is faced with a maize crop that will probably yield almost twice as many bags as can be consumed at home. The Maize Control Board has decided that the excess shall be exported, and that to compensate the growers for the low price reigning in the world market there shall be a levy of 4/- per bag on all maize consumed by non-producers in the Union. A recent estimate puts the amount so affected at 5,250,000 bags, the levy on which would yield a sum of over £1,000,000 with which to compensate producers. But of this 5,250,000 bags 3,000,000, it is reckoned, will be con- sumed by the poorest sections of the community, poor whites, coloured people, and natives. The native share is put at 2,000,000 bags, and thus a people whose poverty had already led to grave undernourishment will be further handicapped in obtaining adequate food. The case of the native producer

is little better, for the levy is not paid to him in cash but into a general fund for native welfare. It is, moreover, his habit in many cases, because he lacks storage accommodation, to sell his crop to the country store and buy it back as he needs it. He will now be forced to sell cheaply’and to buy dearly. The "Cape Times" asks: How long in the name of justice can the Maize Control Board continue to inflict this grievous penalty for European over-production on the poorest and smallest of all producers? Plums And Petrol Most garages on English country roads show tables of fruit for sale to people who are stopping there for fuel, and at many bends of the road, where cars are slowing, you see stalls, neatly laid out, stocked with plums and apples at bargain prices. One small garage with a very rural look had the sign " Plums free to customers." Cafés, tearooms, and refreshment bars with enticing names have sprung up along the new highways. "Wings of the Morning" is the biggest commercial heart-throb on the Maidstone road. Roadhouses with swimming-pools are becoming as common as windmills once were in Kent. Great new inns, most of them nicely built in the brick Georgian tradition, have replaced small alehouses at road junctions, and seem to do much more business than the inns in the towns. Poem On a Pig The "Manchester Guardian," in response to an appeal for a "poem on a pig printed many years ago," made the following reply:

The following verses were first printed in this column a long time ago. They are now reprinted, partly in order to save the trouble of writing any new ones, but chiefly to meet the touching appeal of a reader who writes to say that she has lost her original cutting and now wants to croon "said verses" to a grandchild. So here goes-and may the grandchild prosper! :- ("Vacancy for Pupil-Herd of Pedigree Middle White Pigs in Berkshire. Terms, 7 guineas a month. Write Box --. An "Agony Column" advertisement). Diddle, diddle dumpling, my son John Never could settle a career upon, x Till we sent him away, as merry as a grig, F For to larn him to be a Middle White Pig. Seven gold guineas a month seems dear, Seven gold guineas for John’s career; Each month-end it’s a big lump gone, But it’s cheap when you think what they’ve done to John. First month there they taught him how to grunt, Second month there his nose grew blunt, Third month there he filled out fine Till you’d scarce know John for a son o’ mine. Now they write that he’s all complete, Middle White Pig from his ears to his feet, | And they'll finish him off on a handsome scale With a jolly little squiggle in his pigwig’s tail. Diddle, diddle dumpling, John will be A Middle White Pig of PedigreeLord, how the neighbours will stare and shout When John comes home with a tail and a snout!