I was reminded that Rushden Feast had come again by instructions from the Editorial department to write some more flapdoodle about the Feast.  Mercifully I am not ordered to read it when I have written – that is the penalty of other readers of the “Rushden Echo.”

  To a native of Rushden this task ought to be an easy one, yet a reader draws my attention to a serious omission from an article recently inflicted on the public, and purporting to describe Higham Ferrers Feast.  Nothing was said about the whelks.  For the satisfaction of my critical informant, I hasten to say that there were quite a lot of whelks at Rushden Feast, but they were giddy whelks – better known as “flappers.”  However, they were only part of the conglomeration of individuals and heterogeneous matter included in the Feast and feasters.  They were not the only people who cheerfully sought to be asphyxiated in the dust that “stews” up, paying, of course, for the privilege of being choked!

  Rushden Feast is the Mecca of all pleasure-seeking pilgrims, and everybody seemed to “Mecca” point of going there.  “Are yer bin on the dunkey?” someone asked.  I found there was a four-legged ass trotting round with bipeds on its back.  So that although you might not ride along the beach at Rushden Feast, you could make a miniature cavalry charge through the crowds, and perhaps, with some inducement, get the solemn-looking beast to take you on the swings, or rush (?) round and compete with the motors.

  The Feast may hibernate for twelve months, but so long as it is forthcoming in its appointed season, with all the multiplicity of its paraphernalia, Rushdenites and visitors of all ages will be there.  You can try at darts that have an affinity for wrong numbers, rifles that crack but don’t strike, hoop-la rings that bounce off the best prizes, cokernuts that defy all throwers, motors that threaten your life if you dare to enter the surging crowds to get a ride – (Why is the Riot Act not read at every round, by the way?) – side shows of human marvels easier to see than to believe without seeing, learn astonishing things about yourself by showing your palms to the Silent Lady, or about somebody else by putting pennies in the slot machines.  In fact, there is fun for children, giddy kippers, and elders, but the latter assure each other that they seek not pleasure for themselves, but go for the amusement of the youngsters!

  Rushden Victory Feast rightfully held its own as it always did, and I hope always will.