UNDERGRADUATE PAGE
Their Gap and Mine
By J. A. FOWLES (Emmanuel College, Cambridge) R. ATTLEE'S recent announcement 'of economy measures to be taken has woken me from a state of moneyless stupor, where I dreamt of a golden future, and his stirring words (after all they did wake me) have encouraged me to set about my own affairs with courage and fortitude similar, I trust, to that defiant air so beloved by His Majesty's Government. For you see, Sir Stafford Cripps is not the only one to find himself in financial trouble at the moment. But as both he and Mr. Attlee can utter perorations in the confidence that we shall all pull through, so I, for my part, may do a little to help this pulling through to the bitter end by an attempt to sort out my own difficulties along the lines suggested by these two eminently practical economists. I must, so it seems, equate my modest grant with moderate needs. I, too, must balance my budget. stupor, where I dreamt of a golden future, and his stirring words (after all they did wake me) have encouraged me to set about my own affairs with courage and fortitude similar, I trust, to that defiant air so beloved by His Majesty's Government. For you see, Sir Stafford Cripps is not the only one to find himself in financial trouble at the moment. But as both he and Mr. Attlee can utter perorations in the confidence that we shall all pull through, so I, for my part, may do a little to help this pulling through to the bitter end by an attempt to sort out my own difficulties along the lines suggested by these two eminently practical economists. I must, so it seems, equate my modest grant with moderate needs. I, too, must balance my budget.
I will not bore you with an account of the reasons for the difference between my expenditure and my income. In higher spheres such an account is necessary and bears repetition—or so it appears from my perusal of the speeches of the Chancellor and of his colleagues. Suffice it to say that it is the result of excessive spending in the past few years. Clearly what matters now, and what I propose to attempt, is to close the gap so caused, without reducing my standard of living. In other words, I shall introduce economies which will only be " a retardation of progress in certain directions "—I quote from the Prime Minister—but which will " enable us to overcome our immediate difficulties." Transferred into terms relevant to university life, I do not propose to reduce the number of my appearances in its social circles and I intend to be present at the May Ball next year. Making cuts is as simple as that.
First, then, a drastic measure: I shall part With my typewriter. It represents my invested capital, and its departure is the end of my literary hopes. But needs must where the devil drives, and the Editor will testify to the efficacy of this step when he receives a clearly-written article instead of a jumbled mass of mistakes in type- script. But even when that is sold at a price commensurate with my hopes my monetary affairs will be unbalanced. The services I shall receive this term will still exceed my meagre reserves. With no more assets to sell I must begin to economise els.:where- and this is where I really begin to tread on the Prime Minister's heels.
To start with, there are those critical books to which my supervisor continues to call my attention. Instead of buying them, I shall borrow them from the library. I shall invest only in texts. I say "invest" deliberately, for after all a well-stocked library is an asset in life. If "the precious life-blood of a master spirit" is a book, then a library is a whole blood-bank. And as part of the equipment of a man going out into the great wide world, it is useful—if only to dispose of in Charing Cross Road. Since I shall be borrowing critical books from the library, I shall be unable to borrow the texts, and therefore shall have to buy more than last year. But as I have explained, their purchase is an investment, and you can't have it both ways, can you ?
My next economy is in entertainment. Although I cannot cut out the theatre and the cinema (The Third Man and Streetcar Named Desire must be accounted cultural activities), I shall only go to the pictures once a week (unless, of course, something excep- tional turns up) and I shall sit in the cheaper seats. This will involve eye-strain and I shall have to have spectacles, but the saving effected will more than outweigh- the shilling I shall have to pay for the prescription. Next, instead of trotting down to the Little Rose' twice a week at 9.30 for a pint and a sandwich and a game of darts, I will go at 9.45. By this delay I shall obviate the price of the drink which I incur when my opponent throws his usual double top to deprive me of victory, since there won't be time for a game. Again, if, instead of going out, I get the beer from the Buttery and drink it in college, I shall then have cut out the expenditure on sandwiches well. In fact P11 go a stage further and buy a bottle of Madeira
instead of the beer. This can go down in the " further education " column of my account, since I do not doubt that I shall have to drink Madeira in that golden future of mine.
Now for my charities, for charitable expenditure must be slashed when there are bigger things at stake. Church collections, that almost weekly purchase of a flag for some cause or another, these must stop. This saving should go a long way towards the price of my May Ball ticket. But my conscience pricks. I will not cut them out altogether, but wait until after Christmas (when the bills arrive), before I begin to incarcerate myself at week-ends in order to avoid Saturday's collect- ing-box and Sunday's gilt plate—for I shall have to avoid them to keep my conscience still. So this becomes a half-economising gesture to deal with both sides of the question.
As the Prime Minister pointed out, these measures are not enough. With them alone the prospect is not very cheering, and I certainly should not be able to attend that May Ball next year. But did I not hear in Mr. Attlee's speech a point, perhaps put forward cautiously and for serious consideration only, the question of working hours ? I don't want to suggest that an increased output of essays for my supervisor would help matters—indeed it would probably cause him grave anxiety—but there is that darling protege of the Chancellor and of the President of the Board of Trade, the export drive. Hence indeed this article. And thank heaven for the Undergraduate Page of the Spectator, which enables a few pounds to be earned outside my normal path in life. Alas, it is but one article, and I must look elsewhere for means of succour.
There is, it seems to me, only the tourist trade left. Since, and I have no doubt on this point,athe college would not approve of the conversion of my room into a hostelry, or even a night-club for American students, I shall have to utilise my knowledge of the build- ings of Cambridge. My aunts will be glad to know that I am pre- pared to escort them to King's College Chapel, and, if my uncles appear, I have a nodding acquaintance with the grounds at Fenners and Grange Road. And I might as well extend the scope of my offer and say that I am prepared to suffer in dealing with questions on English sport from any extravagantly rich American.
Rich Americans, why didn't I think of them before ? After all, that macrocosm which the Chancellor of the Exchequer, in his rale of guardian angel, spins around with heavy hand, has fruitful connec- tions with the United States. What this microcosm needs is just a little of that fruit-juice. So if there are any rich Americans driven towards the encouragement of culture by a morbid preoccupation with their own wealth, they need not be told where to dump it.
And if this fails, if the American doesn't turn up trumps ? Nonsense! How could he be so mean ?
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