"WANTED A PIANO": A New Zealander

New Zealand Listener, Volume 2, Issue 33, 9 February 1940, Page 42

"WANTED A PIANO": A New Zealander

watering-place, Douglas, with its wide sands, splendid Parade and impressive Front. But apparently the Manx people share with other small Island » countries-including our own-a _ naive friendliness and a delight in correspondence and exchange. "Wanted to Exchange: A green parrot for a child’s perambulator" is a reasonable and typical paragraph in any of our "Personals." I doubt, though, if I have seen such a willingness to please as is shown in these replies to a Manx advertisement, " Wanted to purchase a piano." One reads: "Have no piano but could offer small harmonium organ, one bellow going and the other has been seen by Mr. Morgan. Also could sell small poultry house, little used." ; ; Another: "I am sorry I have no piano, but I have got a sewing machine not bad condition (loose treadle) and a set of Dickens which I am. willing to exchange for anything within reason. The sewing machine is by Singer and the set of Dickens is by Dickens himself. David Copperfield has a loose back. If none of these are suitable I hope you won't upset yourself. P.S. I have some old gramophone records for disposal." And brief, but definitely kindly, is: "A friend of mine has a piano for sale. She is away on holiday." I have a friend, a New Zealander,.who went off to London without any ideas about why, or what \ LL Manxmen are proud of their sophisticated

and a Job she wanted to do. The first three days she just lay in bed in a comfortable private hotel in Bayswater, had her meals served to her at satisfyingly regular intervals, and "felt" herself in London. Also, daily, she glanced at the "Times" which every morning was laid on her bed. On the third day she idly marked with a pencil an advertisement which stated that an artist, newly arrived in England, would like to be assisted to find a suitable studio. Without any plan regarding her usefulness she replied that she regretted that she hadn’t a studio, but had he a job of any description? The reply came from an exclusive private hotel in the form of an invitation to take breakfast on the following morning. And the job that evolved from the meeting was an interesting one. The artist was a Swedish-born American citizen with a studio in Paris. He specialised in exorbitant prices for flattering portraits of prominent (but otherwise, dull) people. He suggested that she should go at once to New York, re-open his studio there, live in it and entertain on his behalf any and every social celebrity she could get hold of-and book them for a sitting against his return in six months. Seven pounds a, week, fare and expenses, and_ thirty pounds commission on ‘all business! ‘Anti-climax is this. She was in love and wouldn't take it. Did anyone remark that New Zealanders

were romantic?

Ann

Slade