June Gordon
/We're Off
Before we were indescribably smitten by a fair maid from afar, we were thinking of settling down before our winter fireside in a state of soporific hibernation.
Then we saw JUNE GORDON. She was just going home to Scotland. So, we cancelled the order for winter fuel and gave up all idea of hibernating. A rush of vibrant corpuscles to the head had sent us all agog and it was like Spring in the park again.
In other words, we're off.
We're either off to Scotland or off our head.
June is a secretary and the girl we'd most like to be lost in the typing pool with. What grace, what charm, what fair elegance.
As the coalman said when a hundredweight sack fell on his head, "I've gone all fragile.' It's a feeling of being far, far away.