. WHAT SORT OF PEOPLE ?
Sta,--Considering the record of housewives in this war, is it presump- tuous to ask that the Government may cease to regard us as morons? During the last few years the Ministry of Food propaganda has assumed a remarkable lack of intelligence in the home. Take carrots, for instance. In inter-war years " Eat more fruit " was the accepted slogan. When the luscious yellow pyramids in the shops dwindled to a memory, when now there were no bananas, the erstwhile humble carrot became the theme of Freddy Grisewood and Co.'s lyrics. Sow carrots, grow carrots, dice carrots, slice carrots, eat more carrots or die was the running motif. Then Franco, of his clemency (or his fear) spared us a few cargoes of oranges. T'ae stock of the carrot fell to par overnight. The paeans ceased.. Now the vitamin-packed wonder has assumed its former role of food for donkeys, as indeed it has been all along if we swallowed thF propaganda cum the carrot.
Again, in our hard-beset years when shipping space was as scarce .is mother's I.Q. came the panegyrics on dried egg powder. This was, indeed, an excellent second-best to the vanished egg, but why claim it as more? A spoonful of the yellow dust plus twice its displacement in water was loudly boosted as equal to any hen's effort. Now the Germans are beaten, eggs are not, and a strange sgence sets in anent the miracle packet. Down the Hun, up the hen! Was the storming of Berlin as great a victory for the Rhode Island 2s for the Russian Red? The
Case of the Missing Wheat Germ is fresh in memory. The millers' crime in milling white flour was a Nazi-like atrocity. To eat white bread was the tummy's descent to Avernus (as in many cases it was). Today we are expected to rejoice at the reappearance of our beautiful white loaf. Shucks to our dyspeptic bodies! The unsullied slice will restore our souls. What sort of a people do they think we are?
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