YOUR PROBLEMS SOLVED
Dear Mary.. .
Your correspondent M.A.B. (17 August) did not set the record straight. What Mr Berlin wrote, and Mr Astaire sang, was 'simply reeks with class'. Perhaps the mias- mal mists of Birkdale have affected his memory. J.H., Thaxted, Essex 4. Thank you, J.H., for being so kind as to supply photocopied proof of Berlin's lyrics to 'Top Hat, White Tie And Tails'. May I take this opportunity to reproduce them here as they are rather enjoyable.
I just got an invitation through the mails.
Your presence requested this evening, it's formal, A top hat, a white tie and tails.
Nothing now could take the wind out of my sails.
Because I'm invited to step out this evening With top hat and white tie and tails.
I'm puttin' on my top hat, tyin' up my white tie, — brushin' off my tails.
I'm dudein' up my shirt-front, puttin' in the shirt studs, polishin' my nails. I'm stcppin' out, my dear, To breathe an atmosphere That simply reeks with class.
Q. Have you any suggestions for dealing with the awful manual fatigue one experi- ences when reading a book? Do any other readers find, as I do, that the slog of hav- ing to hold the pages down interferes with one's full potential for concentration on the text?
T.H., London W2
A. Yes, indeed, but many thinkers deal with this problem by simply clipping metal 'curl grips', as used for hairdressing purposes, onto the edges of the unruly pages. This enables one to sit back in comfort, even to knit, while absorbing the contents of one of today's lightweight volumes. Q. My four-year-old son and I recently stayed with friends in Norfolk for a week- end. Although my son has been 'nappy- free' for almost two years, he inexplicably wet his bed. He was very embarrassed and begged me not to tell our hosts. I had to promise I would not. This meant that I had to spend virtually a whole morning dousing down the sheet and then ironing it dry with a chair up against the door to his bedroom. What would you have done, Mary?
Name and address withheld
A. I would have given the little chap a bath and allowed a corner of the bath-towel to become sodden. I then would have flung the sodden towel on to the bed, in the way that little boys do, and summoned the host- ess to show her. 'I'm so sorry, but Archie [I presume he is called Archie, like most four- year-old boys] has just flung his soaking bath-towel on the bed and now I'm going to need some new sheets,' I would have said. 'If you just give me a pair I'll fling them on myself in no time.... '
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