Pettipoint

This Was Small Ad Week. Wot wonderful things small ads are! Pulling power. Selling power. Don't gather dust gather cash and all that sort of rot. That's why Small Ad Week is being advertised by a series of half-page ads in the local daily.

Salient are much more practicable. They are going to reduce the size of the columns to five-sixths the previous. In this way you'll get less Pettipoint, which may be an advantage. (Thinks— heh hell, I wonder what is the smallest print size the printers have.)

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Architects, you know, are not really silly people. They do sensible things like putting lights in places where it is dark. In the Library, you know, and, oh yes, between Easterfield and Hunter. Seen them there? They look quite pretty, especially in the daytime, when you can see them. Mind you, they would be rather delightful if they lit up at night. I believe that some lights do that sort of thing. Wot a good idea!

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This Is well-timed political move week. Seen the new student paper? Strange that it should come out just before Easter Council. You know what happened at Easter Council, don't you? (Happened by the time this comes out, actually.) Good editorial eh? Clash gongingly thy forehead upon the red carpet before King Alister ... or King Ross as the case may be. Join the Press. And speaking of well-timed moves, how inconvenient that national student headquarters are in Wellington. Must be a nuisance to change your university to attain high office in student politics.

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Been Down to the Railway Station lately? Try a ride on our exciting suburban units. Tonight let's try a nice . . . let's see . . . yes, a little Lower Hutt unit. The first thing, of course, is to find out when the train leaves. For this purpose the Railways Department in its wisdom prints "timetables" wherein the times of all trains may be observed.

"Could I have a timetable, please?" I plead, timorous and naive.

"Not available!" gleefully cries a grey little man, safe behind his bulletproof glass.

"When will it be available?"

"When it's printed."

That's what I like about these state organisations—their helpfulness and charm. And that personal contact — no plain, common notices saying that timetables are out of print and will be available in six months when the administration realises this fact. Let the people ask! is the cry. I first asked about a fortnight ago. I'll keep you informed.

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It's Good to see all the buildings around the town being finished, painted, washed. Town Hall, Government Buildings, all those buildings on the Terrace. We are having a Visitor, you see. I am always amused on these occasions by all the little parishes around the country saying "We want the Visitor." All the little borough councils, composed of the local stationmaster and half-a-dozen lawyers, demanding that the Visitor should come and wave and smile and exude charm. Why, they might even shake that revered hand, or have addressed to them a word from those lips— the lips of the Empire. That was the empire that was.

Actually, the problem has been solved this time, rather well, one feels. The main centres will receive a wax effigy—wind it up and it smiles, waves, and makes charming noises. Small centres are to get a mere brown paper image.

by Latent