I imagine that my youthful friend, Bobby J., is getting a little restive and more than a little resentful under family discipline. What is worse, there seems to be danger that even I, an innocent bystander, may be drawn into the domestic brawl lest I tread delicately. Even avuncular indulgence, I find, may incur its own punishments.

Dear Uncle (writes Bobby) - It was very nice of you to say you would let me have the new wireless set in time for the Tests and before I had reely earned it by finishing these Shakespere tales. But what do you think has happened now, uncle. That overgrown big sister of mine has got snooping around like she does and she seen your private letter to me and has to go and blab it out to everybody how I was asking you for the wireless set too soon and I never did did I uncle only suggested.

Well uncle you would hardly ever believe that my own father after all these years could turn out to be nothing but just a harch tyrint. Because he says that if you send the wireless before it is earned he will lock it up like the bicicle till it is earned so I think praps you better not send it yet uncle and then praps I might come to your place and listen to some tests there praps on my very own wireless.

I only wish I could be a bit like this gentleman Mr Petoosho who I am going to write about now and I call this one:-

Well a long time ago an old gent called Mr Baptist lived in a place called Padua and he had two grown-up daughters and the youngest was a nice quite girl what knew her place but the oldest - older one was a proper nagger somethink like somebody's sister that I know better than anyone else's sister. And her name was Katherine and the other one was Banker.

Well Mr Baptist made it a rule that young Banker couldent get married till Katherine was married so it looked pretty touff for both of them because Katherine was just a nasty nagging cat who always wanted her own way and no reel nice fella would have her trying to boss him for a wife which ought to be a pretty good objick lesson for some people I know.

But to everybody's surprise one day along came a touff young chap called Mr Petoosho and he said to old Mr Baptist look here I'm looking for a wife to look after my place so what about your eldest - elder daughter.

Well old Mr Baptist could hardly believe his ears but he said of well all right but your blud be on your own head and just to make up for it a bit I will give away a bag of half crowns with her. So Petoosho says its a deal trot her out and we'll get married at once.

Well he done that and when his lawful wife Katherine starts to nag as usual he just cracks a big whip and says shut up you. So she was so surprised she shut up.

So then he took her home to his place, and every time she started to open her mouth he put his foot down, and yelled at her to shut up, and mind her own business.

Well, pretty soon she got sick of that, and thought praps she better obey him, because he frightened her. So that is what they call the taming of the shroo, because she was a shroo, and tamed by Mr Petroocho, who was reely one of the grandest fellas I ever heard about and I wish I could be like him.

Well, a bit later Petroocho and Katherine went back to Mr Baptists place to see Banker and another flapper married to a couple of fellas. Well after dinner that night Mr Petroocho said to the other chaps, look here, I bet you a million pounds my wife is more obedient than your wifes, but the other chaps smiled because they had heard about Katherine. So they said thats a bet and sent in to tell their wifes they wanted them, please.

But the wifes sent back to say they were in the middle of a game of Contrack and couldn't come. So Petroocho said to the butler you nip along now and tell my wife to come here at once pronto And in half a mo Katherine came crawling to his feet and said please sir what do you want.

So Mr Petroocho won the bets, and the old Mr Baptist gave him another big bag of half crowns for being so clever. So that just goes to show you it can be done if you are only firm enough and have a big whip.

And the moril of my story is like I heard a man say in the talkies treat em rouf. Speshilly if they are called Katherine. So that's that.

BOBBY J.
Orther and Writer.

P.S. - It was good luck that my big kid sisters name is Katherine wasent it uncle. Please can I come to see you next week.

"Den"
Herald, 1 June 1934, p6