TASTE 



THERE is no accounting for taste. A heavy fall of 

 snow followed by a thaw has made most things and 

 most people miserable. A strangely weird piece of 

 humanity I found cutting down or ' laying ' an old 

 overgrown neglected hedge ; as the blows of his 

 ' hacker ' fell on the stems of the overhanging boughs, 

 wet melting snow r shattered upon his head, his old 

 bent back and down his neck ; his scratched and 

 bleeding hands were wet and cold, his feet deeply 

 buried in the sloppy snow. Not far oif a number of 

 school boys were tobogganing with an ecstasy of de- 

 light and much noise. He paused ' That job seems 

 to go w r ell ' he slowly remarked, indicating the boys, 

 ' but I would sooner have mine,' and, turning his stiff 

 old body, far less able to bend than the hedge stakes, 

 he continued pursuing his operation with surgeon- 

 like precision. No there certainly is no accounting 

 for taste. 



15 



JANUARY 



