The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 4, Issue 7 (November 1, 1929)
The Typographical Tourist
The Typographical Tourist.
But we must apply the Westinghouse to our exuberance, lest you, temperamental reader, react as did the gentleman of Kalamazoo, Mich., who, having accumulated a bankful of dollars, desired to test the national theory that the Benighted States occupies nine-tenths of the globe, by galloping over the remaining one-tenth touristically. To his amazement, while running the microscope over the terrestrial sphere (made in U.S.A.) he discovered a rugged little piece of land which looked as if it might have slipped off China during a gale, but which bore a name lending colour to his theory that it had drifted out of the Zuder Zee at spring tide. “Little old Noo Zealand,” he murmured, and called for “literatoor” on the subject. Unfortunately, owing to a run on such printed matter, none was available, so he wrote to Enzed and received enough typographical information to fill a truck. For a week he locked himself in his dollary (American equivalent for library), refusing to see even his favourite footwear merchant. Finally he emerged, a changed man; he looked entirely “kruchenised”; his cheeks wore the ruddy glow of health, and his brow was tanned; at intervals he cried, “haeremai,” and demanded mako-shark on toast.
“Say pop,” queried Sadie, his youngest and most expensive issue, “when air we going to li'lle ole Noo Zee?”
“Going to Noo Zealand,” shouted her dollarous parent. “Why, kid—I've Just Got Back.”
Which just shows the power of the printed word.