In the country, much more, no doubt, than in the
towns, there has all this week been a general and soul-searching review of tasks to be done and people to be seen "before the petrol goes." Friends who will soon be out of reach must be visited or asked over ; the last visit to the cinema must be paid by those who follow films ; or the last visit to the hairdresser by those concerned with coiffures. It is too soon to realise yet what life in the village will mean without petrol. In the last war private cars were comparatively rare. Today, in the country at any rate, all life is based on them. People build houses in remote spots they would never have thought of without a car to maintain communications Many of them will be virtually marooned. Social life, too, will be enor- mously restricted. Hitherto anyone within thirty miles or so was well within the circle. Now the radius will shrink to about two, and to people employed in the day to nothing at all, for no one is going to drive unnecessarily after dark, even if he has petrol to spare. We shall be thrown com- pletely in on ourselves ; that may be good or bad.
* * * *
Previous page
