from 1923 Margery Allingham wrote regularly for her Aunt Maud Hughes's papers Joy and Girl's Cinema. There's delightful frivolity to some of her 'little scratch' stories (the office-based rivalry of a brunette and a blonde) and to the occasional verses she contributed, often under the 'Louise A' by line.




I didn't only hate her, I wished that she were dead,

That little wishy-washy thing with sleekly shingled head.

I wished she'd break her silly neck and bite her sillier tongue,

The little powdered blink-eyed thing that lisped of being young.


I wished she'd dye her hair at home and use a cheapish dye.

So that her eye-black would run down, I wish he'd make her cry.

I wished her hose would ladder and I wished her shoes would creak,

The squitty little bitty little PRETTY little sneak.


I wished she'd show her skinny arms and break her falser heart.

I wished that from her frilly skirts the lace would come apart.

I wished her all the trouble that a jealous tongue could say

For I wasn't ready for her and she pinched my Bill away.