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Understanding Accounting
Principles
Seventh edition
Colleen Fisher
MBS (Massey)
Senior Lecturer, Manukau Institute of Technology
Jon Moses
MCom (Hons), CA, FCIS, FFIN, M Ins Directors
Senior Lecturer, Manukau Institute of Technology
LexisNexis NZ Limited
Wellington
2014
LexisNexis
NEW ZEALAND LexisNexis, PO Box 472, WELLINGTON
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ARGENTINA LexisNexis Argentina, BUENOS AIRES
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VIENNA
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CHILE LexisNexis Chile, SANTIAGO
CHINA LexisNexis China, BEIJING, SHANGHAI
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HONG KONG LexisNexis Hong Kong, HONG KONG
HUNGARY HVG-Orac, BUDAPEST
INDIA LexisNexis, NEW DELHI
ITALY Dott A Giuffrè Editore SpA, MILAN
JAPAN LexisNexis Japan KK, TOKYO
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JAYA, SELANGOR
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SINGAPORE LexisNexis, SINGAPORE
SOUTH AFRICA LexisNexis Butterworths, DURBAN
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TAIWAN LexisNexis, TAIWAN
UNITED KINGDOM LexisNexis UK, LONDON, EDINBURGH
USA LexisNexis Group, New York, NEW YORK
LexisNexis, Miamisburg, OHIO
Fisher, Colleen.
Understanding Accounting Principles 7th edition.
Previous ed: 2010.
Includes index.
ISBN 978-1-927248-14-0 (pbk).
978-1-927248-44-7 (ebk).
I. Accounting. II. Moses, Jon. II. Series: Understanding series.
657.044—dc 23
Colleen Fisher currently lives in Auckland with her husband and enjoys the
company of her two adult children. She studied for the professional
accounting exams on a part-time basis during the 1970s and ’80s while
teaching at secondary school level. After she joined Manukau Institute of
Technology, she completed her Bachelor of Business (Accounting) degree
there, and obtained her Master of Business Studies from Massey University.
Colleen was involved in running a successful building business with her
husband for twenty-five years, where she was responsible for the
administrative side of the business, including the preparation of the business
accounts. This provided many practical accounting and taxation examples to
use in her teaching. Colleen is currently a senior lecturer at Manukau
Institute of Technology and specialises in teaching all levels of financial
accounting. She has recently stepped down from being the programme leader
for the Bachelor of Business degree at MIT, but still enjoys the challenge of
teaching accounting as well as travelling.
Jon Moses was born in Auckland and obtained his Master of Commerce
(Hons) from Auckland University. He commenced his employment with a
firm of chartered accountants in Auckland and subsequently travelled
extensively. He worked in London in a variety of accounting jobs, including
in the commodity futures industry at its inception in England. After travelling
extensively throughout Asia, he returned to New Zealand and worked as an
accountant in industry and thereafter as a chartered accountant. After
venturing into the corporate banking arena, he returned to the commercial
accounting sector, working as a financial controller and company secretary
for several large listed companies.
After a major accident in 1989, which required a year of recovery, Jon
joined the education sector and has worked as a senior lecturer at Manukau
Institute of Technology since 1990, specialising in financial accounting,
finance, and banking. Jon resides in Auckland with his wife and adult son. He
remains a chartered accountant and holds several other professional
qualifications.
Preface
Detailed contents
About the authors
Preface
Contents
About the authors
Preface
Contents
Learning outcomes
1.1 Introduction
1.2 Accounting — a personal view
1.2.1 Xero Limited as a case study
1.2.2 Business history — what is business about?
1.2.3 What is accounting?
1.3 Financial accounting — a professional view
1.3.1 What is financial accounting?
1.3.2 Development of accounting practice — accounting as a
profession
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"Because you went at it in the wrong way. Stephanie Lorraine is the
easiest girl in the world to manage if you handle her right—but if
you don't——" an expressive shrug ended the sentence. "I think she
has become more so, since the Amherst affair—which is entirely
natural."
"I know it. I should have made every allowance for her," Pendleton
concurred. "I'll fix it up with her if she will let me."
Miss Chamberlain smiled satisfiedly.
"She will let you, never fear, as I said before." She drank the last of
her tea and put down the cup. "I just learned today," she said, "that
shortly after Stephanie's return a resolution was introduced, by one
of Lorraine's friends on the Board of Governors, requesting her
resignation; that after a desperate fight it was held over until the
next meeting—when it was voluntarily withdrawn by the mover. Is it
true?"
"It is true—but I didn't know it had got out," he answered.
"I heard it only this morning. It was pretty well kept—for a Board
secret."
"Yes—about four weeks overtime. Why is it that some one on the
Board always leaks?"
"Why is it that almost everyone on the Board leaks?" she amended.
"Talk about women not being able to keep a secret. If there is
anything more gossippy and leaky than a man's club, I should like to
know it."
He smiled tolerantly, with a good-natured air.
"Different sexes, different minds," he replied.
"But the same delight in gossip!" she retorted. "However, to return
to the road, as you would say. What caused Lorraine's friend to have
a change of heart, do you suppose?"
"Lorraine's accident and Stephanie's visit to him at the Hospital
occurred on the same evening the Governors met. The
postponement of the resolution was owing, I understand, to a hard
fight by a couple of her friends on the Board. The subsequent action
of the proposer was due to these facts—and to Lorraine's request."
"I see," nodded Miss Chamberlain. "Altogether that first visit to the
Hospital—and the subsequent one—were the two wisest, most politic
things Stephanie ever did. They accomplished more for her
rehabilitation than she could have effected in a year's time. Even the
Queen P's were mollified and were disposed to be nice—which
Stephanie hasn't let them be yet, however. She is a bit wilful,
Montague."
"She may be wilful in her resolve not to accept Lorraine's offer of
reconciliation," said Pendleton. "What is your opinion?"
"On the ground of expediency, it would be better, beyond all
question, for her to accept," said Gladys, "but if it were I—I'd die
first. I fancy Stephanie is of the same mind."
"I fancy she is," Pendleton agreed.
Just then Stephanie herself appeared in the doorway.
She saw Gladys, and smiled and came toward her—not seeing
Pendleton, who had his back toward her and was hidden by the tall
chair in which he was sitting.
"Hello!" said Gladys.—"Come and join me in a cup of tea."
Pendleton slowly arose and turned—and Stephanie stopped short
with a smothered exclamation!
XVII
DOLITTLE'S TALE
Just then Porshinger drove up in his car. The hour was early and the
east piazza was as yet occupied only by Mrs. Lorraine, Miss
Chamberlain and Pendleton. He sighted them at once—stood a
moment as though undecided, then came slowly toward them.
"Can it be possible he will dare to join us!" Gladys exclaimed.
"Anything is possible with him," Stephanie answered contemptuously
—and turned her back.
"Surely he won't have the effrontery!" Gladys insisted and looked
away.
"I can't think that even he is cad enough for that," Pendleton
remarked, busying himself with his cigarette.
That no one glanced up at Porshinger's approach did not faze him an
instant. It was one of the secrets of his success in life that, having
come to a decision, he always saw it through. He knew his own mind
—which is more than the average man does.
"How-de-do, everybody!" he greeted. "May I sit down?" suiting the
action to the word. "Miss Chamberlain, I salute you! also Mrs.
Lorraine—and Mr. Pendleton. Bully day for golf—what do you say to
a foursome?"
Stephanie arose, looked straight at Porshinger with a deliberately
ignoring stare, and turned to Miss Chamberlain.
"Will you come into the house with me, Gladys?" she asked. "Excuse
me, Montague, please."
Pendleton had instantly found his feet—Porshinger was a trifle
slower. Gladys bowed perfunctorily to the latter, and followed
Stephanie. Pendleton resumed his seat and slowly lit another
cigarette.
Porshinger laughed, a chuckling sort of laugh.
"I'm squelched, did you notice it?" he remarked.
"I noticed the intention, but not the desired result," Pendleton
answered very coldly.
Porshinger's small eyes flashed a keen look at him—had Stephanie
been telling them the truth—or only part of it? He had felt certain
she would tell nothing—simply let it be inferred that they had had a
disagreement; but there was something in the atmosphere that
suggested——
"A slight disagreement last night at the Croydens' over a trifling
matter," he laughed easily. "It's funny how a woman can make a
man pay up for a little thing. You might imagine from the way she
acted that I had done Mrs. Lorraine a grievous wrong."
Pendleton smoked and was silent.
In truth, he could not quite determine just how to meet the matter,
knowing the facts and of Lorraine's contemplated action—whether to
show he was aware of anything more than the actual incident of the
moment, or to tell Porshinger his opinion of him. The latter, however,
would entail the possibility of violence if Porshinger elected to
become offensive in his statements as to Stephanie. He wanted to
smash Porshinger's face into a nothingness—yet that would be only
a temporary personal satisfaction, and would complicate the matter
still more without accomplishing anything.
Porshinger, on his part, had sunk his desire for vengeance into his
desire for Stephanie. He could not understand a woman with her
flagrant past except on one hypothesis—and he was willing to forget
Pendleton's recent attack if he could supplant him in her affections.
He had no possible doubt that Pendleton had taken Amherst's place
—and he aimed to displace Pendleton. That a woman could make
one bad step and then right herself beyond even the possibility of
making another was, to his mind, utterly absurd. And the last few
weeks had but confirmed him—she was playing him, to be sure, but
coming closer every day, until he had only to put out his hand and
take her. He had put out his hand last night at Croydens', but
something had gone wrong. He had been a trifle premature—
possibly because he did not quite understand these society women's
ways. However, it was only a question of a little time. He would
pluck the fruit eventually, of that he had no doubt. Stephanie was
not really angry—only piqued at his awkwardness and want of
appreciation of the proper situation. He would show her that he did
not mind a temporary rebuff, would, in fact, disregard it entirely. If
she was inclined to punish him a trifle, she should have her way.
Money was king in the end —and money would win. Her present
conduct—this leaving him without a word, but with an ignoring look,
was somewhat disconcerting and altogether unexpected. However,
he assumed it was simply another exhibition of a society woman's
seeming reluctance to yield, and the desire to make her conquest
worth while. Yes, it was a trifle disconcerting. He was at a loss what
to say, because he did not know how much, if anything, Stephanie
had told of their quarrel.
He glanced covertly at Pendleton—Pendleton was smoking and
looking dreamily up at the sky.
"My idea of a foursome didn't seem to take well with the ladies," he
adventured.
"No, didn't seem to," Pendleton answered dryly.
"Do you think Mrs. Lorraine and Miss Chamberlain are coming back?"
Pendleton's patience was fast slipping its moorings.
"Judging from Mrs. Lorraine's manner, I should say she was not——
so long as you are here," he replied.
Porshinger refused to take offence.
"I thought so myself!" he chuckled. "Have a drink, Pendleton?"
"No, thank you!" Pendleton declined sharply.
"Do you mind if I have one?"
"Not in the least."
"Do you mind if I stay here?"
Pendleton blew smoke rings and made no reply.
"From which I might infer—a number of things," Porshinger laughed.
"But I won't. I had one quarrel with a pretty woman over nothing
last evening; I'm not going to have another quarrel with a good
fellow this afternoon."
It was evident to Pendleton that Porshinger never suspected that
Stephanie had told more than the simple fact of their quarrel, or else
he was trying to draw him out so as to know what story he had to
meet and overcome.
Just then Dolittle's voice came around the corner.
"Have you heard the latest scandal?" it enquired.
"No—what is it?" said another voice, which Pendleton recognized as
Emerson's.
There was a moving of chairs and the two men sat down.
Pendleton took a long draw on his cigarette. He saw what was
coming. Porshinger, however, did not see, and like the majority of his
class, he craned his ears to overhear.
"It's pretty hot stuff!" laughed Dolittle. "Were you at the Croydens'
last night?"
Pendleton glanced at Porshinger. The latter's face was suddenly
creased by a frown.
"No—but Marcia was," Emerson answered, with the parvenu parent's
pride in the daughter who has been included.
"She didn't tell you, I fancy?"
"I've not seen her.—She takes her breakfast in bed, you know."
"No—I didn't know," said Dolittle airily—then hastened to add:—"but
most women do so, I understand."
"I don't know about most women," Emerson returned bluntly.
"Of course, you don't," Dolittle interjected pleasantly. "An old
married man isn't supposed to know about such things. Hey!" and
he laughed. "But to return—have you ever been in Croyden's
country-house? It's down the valley."
"Sure, I have," said Emerson.
"Then you know how spacious it is, particularly the conservatory,
and how the lights are arranged so that you seem to see all about
you but you don't—the palms and the other big plants are
concealers."
Porshinger stirred uneasily and whipped a glance at Pendleton—who
had gone back to surveying the clouds and pushing smoke rings
toward them.
"Yes," said Emerson; "I remember the conservatory perfectly. It's a
beautiful room, a beautiful room!"
"Well be that as it may," Dolittle went on: "it was just before the
Cotillon, and I was in the conservatory with—never mind her name—
when Stephanie Lorraine came in with the fellow Porshinger——"
Porshinger half arose; then sank back and his eyes sought Pendleton
—who was still occupied with the clouds and the smoke and his
reverie.
"It's amazing how such an infernal bounder can get intimate with a
woman like Mrs. Lorraine, even if he has more money than brains—
and even if she has a bit unsavory past," Dolittle continued. "There
are plenty in her own circle who have sufficient money to occupy her
attention. However, as I was saying, she and Porshinger entered and
took a sheltered little nook, which apparently was concealed by the
verdure——"
"Where were you?" asked Emerson.
"I was just a little way off, and could see through the leaves.
Presently I happened to glance over and saw—what do you think I
saw?"
"Give it up," said matter-of-fact Emerson.
"I saw—Mrs. Lorraine in Porshinger's arms!"
"You don't say!" exclaimed Emerson.
"Yes—and he was kissing her well, I can tell you."
"Hum!" reflected Emerson. "Did your—companion see it, too?"
"Sure, she did."
And Pendleton knew from his tones that Dolittle lied.
"Hum!" muttered Emerson again. "Is she discreet?"
"Do you mean, will she tell? Certainly she'll tell. Do you fancy a
woman would let such an opportunity slip?"
"Or some men either!" Emerson remarked quietly.
"What do you intend to imply by that?" Dolittle bristled.
"It's not particularly hard to understand," the other answered.
"You mean you question my telling it?"
"I think it would have been kinder to Mrs. Lorraine if you had
cautioned your companion not to tell—and followed your advice
yourself."
"Well, I'm damned!" Dolittle sneered. "Learning propriety from a bar-
tender."
"It doesn't make a heap of difference where you learn it, so long as
you do learn it," said Emerson good-naturedly. "The only trouble
with you is you never can learn it—you're too all-fired conceited and
satisfied with yourself, my young friend."
Pendleton came suddenly to life.
"Do you hear what they are saying, Porshinger?" he demanded
curtly.
His tone angered Porshinger, who had been at loss what he should
do.
"Your conversation wasn't likely to drown it!" he retorted.
"And do you propose to sit calmly by and hear a woman maligned,
with you named as the guilty party?"
"What if she wasn't maligned?" sneered Porshinger.—"What if it's
true?"
"You miserable cur!" said Pendleton.
"Oh, you needn't think that you're the only one!" Porshinger
laughed.
The next instant, Pendleton had him by the throat—then he released
him and flung him in the chair.
"You're too contemptible for a man to touch, even in fight," said he.
It was no use for Porshinger to struggle physically against Pendleton,
and he was well aware of it, one experience had already proved it
beyond the possibility of doubt. So he sat back and carefully
straightened his tie.
"The Board of Governors shall have a report of this affair," said he. "I
overlooked your previous assault; but you'll have to pardon me if I
decline to overlook this one."
"Report and be damned!" Pendleton exclaimed. "I'll be delighted if
you do."
"And meanwhile, there are other ways of reaching you, my friend,"
Porshinger added. "I've already reached you through the lady we
both admire, so you may have my leavings if you wish them. They're
not so bad—as you doubtless can vouch for."
Again Pendleton sprang forward; Porshinger instantly cringed deeper
into his chair.
With his cane raised to strike, Pendleton recovered himself.
"You are not worth even a broken stick," he declared—and turned
away.
The noise of the scuffle had distracted Dolittle and Emerson from
their own quarrel, and they had come around the corner and were
staring in amazement at the other two.
"I'll break you, you snob," Porshinger sputtered. "I'll take every
dollar you have, if it costs me a million to do it."
Pendleton shrugged his shoulders indifferently and continued
straight over to the other two men.
"Mr. Emerson," he said, "I want to compliment you on what you
have said to this cad Dolittle. Yours was the conduct of a
gentleman." Then he turned to Dolittle. "As for you, you miserable
retailer of scurrilous gossip, I'm going to give you an opportunity to
finish your tale."
His right hand shot out and seized Dolittle by the top of the
waistcoat; at the same time his left hand grasped the other's left
wrist. In a twinkle Dolittle's arm lay extended palm upwards across
Pendleton's right arm, and Pendleton was standing close beside him.
It was all done in an instant—and before Dolittle realized what was
happening he was absolutely helpless. Pendleton had but to press
down and the arm would snap like a pipe-stem.
Dolittle's first struggle was also his last. His right arm was free, and
with it he swung heavily at Pendleton's head—only to be lifted off his
feet by a slight downward pressure on his left wrist. The pain was so
excruciating he cried out.—The blow was wasted on the air.
"It's no use, Dolittle," said Pendleton. "You can't touch me and you
can't break my hold—though I can break your arm as readily as I
can break a commandment—and what is more, I'll do it unless you
finish your tale!"
"It was finished," Dolittle answered, balanced uncomfortably on one
foot and perfectly helpless.
"Not at all!" said Pendleton easily. "You have forgotten the most
important part—please listen, Mr. Emerson—the most important part,
I say. Let me remind you what it is."
"It isn't anything, I tell you!" Dolittle exclaimed.
"Think again!" Pendleton admonished, accompanied by the faintest
pressure—which instantly brought a spasm of pain to the other's
face. "You will, I'm sure.—Now this is what you omitted to relate.
You told Mr. Emerson that you saw Mrs. Lorraine being kissed by
Porshinger last evening in the Croyden conservatory, but you forgot
to add that he kissed her by force and despite her struggles.—
Repeat it, please."
Dolittle was sullenly silent.
"Do you hear?" asked Pendleton, beginning to apply the pressure.
Dolittle stood the agony for an instant—then he wilted.
"I neglected to add, Mr. Emerson," he gasped, "that Porshinger
kissed Mrs. Lorraine by force and despite her struggles."
"I thought you could be depended upon to tell the whole truth,"
Pendleton remarked, easing up a trifle on his grip so that the other
stood at ease.
"Then if you want the whole truth, why was it that the lady went
back to the ballroom with Porshinger?" Dolittle sneered.
"I'm coming to that," said Pendleton, tightening his hold again.
"Repeat, please—and immediately Mrs. Lorraine was free and out of
Porshinger's grasp, she ordered him to take her back to the
ballroom, so as to avoid the comment that might be provoked by her
returning alone."
With a scowl of fury, Dolittle repeated the words.
"Thank you," said Pendleton. "And one thing more—if I hear of your
telling this story any other way than with these truthful additions—
and if you don't amend, before this day is over, the tales you've
already told, I shall cane you within an inch of your life—understand.
I don't think the woman with you saw—but if she did, better warn
her also—though I don't doubt, if she did see it, she will tell the
truth. Now, go!"—and he flung him away in contempt.
"You damn bully!" Dolittle choked.
"As you wish!" Pendleton laughed. "I've found my muscular
development of much use for such abominations as you.—Mr.
Emerson, will you do me the honor of joining me in a drink?"
"That I will, sir!" exclaimed Emerson. "With pleasure, sir, with
pleasure! Where shall it be, Mr. Pendleton?"
"Here, if it please you. This is preferable to indoors on such a fine
day." He touched a bell. "Take Mr. Emerson's order," he said to the
boy.
"My dear sir, it was great—great!" Emerson exploded. "You deserve a
vote of thanks from every man who has a wife or daughter. You're a
credit, sir, a credit to your class and to the Club—by God, sir, you
are!"
"It was a difficult situation to handle," said Pendleton—"and I'm not
so sure I handled it properly; however, it was the best I could think
of on the spur of the moment. Moreover, it was the simple truth that
I forced Dolittle to tell."
"I haven't a doubt of it," Emerson declared. "And what is more,
Dolittle knows that it is the truth, if he actually didn't see it. He's a
pup, sure enough."
"You slander the pup, Mr. Emerson!" smiled Pendleton.
"I do, indeed. I beg the pup's pardon. He's a—what is he?"
"He is the same as Porshinger—an abomination."
"That expresses it exactly—an abomination," Emerson agreed. He
glanced quietly around. "He has joined Porshinger—they are
scheming trouble for you, I'm afraid."
Pendleton smiled indifferently, and lit a cigarette.
"I wish I had your nerve," said Emerson admiringly. "To flout both
Porshinger and Dolittle—make them both your vindictive enemies,
and not to seem to care a damn. That's what you fellows call
noblesse oblige, isn't it?"
"Most people would call it rank idiocy, I fear!" Pendleton laughed.
"Then me for the rank idiots. Here's to more of them, Mr. Pendleton,
here's to more of them!" He put down his glass. "Who's this burning
up the speed regulations? Gee! he certainly is hitting it up some."
"It looks like Mr. Lorraine's machine," Pendleton replied.
The car dashed up and made a spectacular stop—to the injury of the
tires and the machinery—and Lorraine jumped out, followed by a
man in a shabby uniform with a shield on the front of his waistcoat.
"What's this?" said Emerson—"a plain clothes man in disguise—or,"
as Lorraine and the man drew near, "a constable in regalia?"
Pendleton smiled slightly but did not reply.
Lorraine, his eyes on Porshinger, made his way directly across to him
—giving Pendleton a preoccupied nod as he passed.
"There is Porshinger—the man with his back to the railing!" said
Lorraine. "Serve your warrant, Officer Burke."
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