The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 7, Issue 8 (February 1, 1933)
The Business of Living and the Living of Business
The Business of Living and the Living of Business.
Nature never intended Man to roost under a roof. The only dome he needed was the airodome. But when he began to sacrifice the business of living for the living of business, he was afraid to accept the fact that the sky was the limit; so he undermined the sky with roofing material so that his activities should not be distracted by ideals higher than himself. But deep down below his internal cashregister there always lurks the old Adam who prefers the greenwood tree to the grim roof-tree, and A.I.R. to L.S.D. Thus whenever he can square his conscience and his creditors, he chains up the cash-box, double-crosses the double entry, and throws a picnic. Lambasted liltingly, the situation is as follows:—
When the liver's limp and languid
And the mind is blank and bluey,
And the spirits shift and shuffle
Like a flounder flat and “fluey,”
And the outlook's dank and dismal
So it seems it can't be damper,
These are ample indications
That it's time to pack the hamper,
And to woo the subtle sandwich
Where the periwinkles wink,
Or to dally with the doughnut
By the burbling brooklet's brink.
For it's good to roll and ramble
In the wide and open spaces,
Thrice divorced from tie and collar
And the tyranny of braces,
While you sun the superstructure,
Raising blisters on your skin,
While the sand-flies get entangled
In the whiskers on your chin,
There is bliss as well as blisters
In the ample out-of-doors,
Where the only mild exertion
Is exertion of the jaws.
Oh it's good to throw a picnic,
When conditions are O.K.,
And to diddle Dad Depression
In the good old-fashioned way.