THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 106, 7 May 1934, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.) A notable and popular headmaster lately retired after teaching the young idea how to shoot ("sprout" would be the juster word) for two score years or SAID THE more. And of course SCHOOLMASTER, schoolmasters at the valedictory shivoo told yarns -against schoolmasters. Here is a schoolmaster's yarn. The headmaster turned up at school one morning bright as a button sparkin- wonderfully, smiling profusely. He goodmoVnbu'ed the children, rubbed his hands, and said "I'm very happy to-day, and I want you ■to be very happy, too. Why am I happy? The kiddies thought hard, but notlnng came. "Well, it is mv birthday!" smiled the head. "Now how old do you think I am?.' .Without hesitation a boy said, "Forty-four, sir. The surprised headmaster replied, \es, yes, you are quite correct, George, but how do you know" "Well, sir," said George, "my brother is twenty-two—and he's half-mad. And every schoolmaster within _ hearing laughed heartily at this sum in division. Quaintest news note to come undersea to New Zealand is from Vienna, where prizes are to be given for new jokes about little Doctor Dolfuss—the Pocket ChanTOKE REWARDS, cellor—flret prize six months in gaol, with lesser awards for other jests. If the new system of award becomes universal the building oi •■i"-antie "aojs i" every country will stimulate the building trade to* bursting point. Thousands of jokers, jesters, clowns and politicians must inevitably'be imprisoned for life as a rich reward for spoken or printed jests That enormous army of solemn searchers who dig into the better-dead pnst and exhume the jests of jokers who have been dust for centuries would all get the highest reward for their services and wings would be built on penitentiaries in every capital on earth. Under the circumstances, it seems a pity that the finest gnol In New Zealand (the Mount Cook pile erf bricks in Wellington) has, been destroyed to make place for a museum. Perhaps, 'however, there will be a fossil department there for the brightest jeux d'esprits from "Hansard." Dear M.A.T., —In these days most impetuous or hard sayings are attributed either to George Bernard Shaw or to Winston Churchill. Let me quote something "WINNIE." now forgotten which AVinston Churchill did say. AVinston had a commission in the 4th Hussars, then stationed in India, when the South African War was started. As disorders, scrambling*, bickerings are his very life, he resigned his commission in order to go to the war as t, newspaper correspondent. His mess, knowing well his headstrong nature, wired to him: "For God's sake don't-make an ass of yourself." The unexpected reply was: "Impossible since I left your regiment." I remember once seeing "G. 8.5." and Winston arguing with each other on the Duke of York's Steps. Had I had a camera I would have made a little fortune out of the newspapers.—Safdar Jang. Dear M.A.T., —It has been brought to my notice that as a result of the cut-throat competition among our peanut vendors they are about to petition our SHELLSHOCK. worthy councillors and plead their cause, hoping thereby to get the vending of peanuts put on a sound economic basis (where the weevil cannot get). It seems shocking in this age of enlightenment such things are so; as one moves about our fair city it is painful to see these overworked, underfed vendors putting up such a heroic fight for existence. A little while ago these self-same nuts were (id a pound; now if you have as much as three you can get sfxteen ounces. I fetrpe you will use your influence to remove this evil from our land and put the kernel back to a paying proposition. Now that there is no unemployment and the wages "cut" has been restored we should pay a fair price for our peanuts. The whole position in a nutshell is this (a kernel): Let's have a Municipal Peanut Council (and if you like you can have the job as chairman).—Fair Play All Round. In copious circulation there is the photograph of two enormously important Dominion statesmen smiling wryly at the camera, and therefore at tens of thou"MY sands of the public they PHOTOGRAPH." so ceaselessly work for. Both of these eminent men are shaking hands with ladies. When common men shake hands with ladies they invariably at least glance at the lady and intimate in the conventional manner that it is the lady and not the voting power of the people they are concerned with. Very likely the politician means no harm when he shakes hands before the camera and looks everywhere on earth but at the shakee, for there is no doubt that the publicist photographer is sometimes dictatorial even to an ex-Prime Minister of a Commonwealth or a Prime Minister of a Dominion. The fashion of shaking hands with a citizen as if the citizen's hand was a pump handle —and looking straight at the photographer—began (as far as New Zealand is concerned) with a celebrated Premier who was caught welcoming a general home from a war by pump-handling him and staring straight to his front at the machine. Beforehand since that time no Governor or Governor-General has been caught posing as a hand-shaker, gazing ardently at the photographer without the faintest thought of the presence of his vi.s-a-vis. One sometimes wonders if' great statesmen might not occasionally imitate humble Governors-General or modest Governors.

Very likely the late gale did a Lit of good, as well as a good deal of harm. For instance, a suburban man was battling hie way against the aereamBREATH OF ing elements along his HEAVEN, home road, thankful to eee that the tin top of his dear young home was in place. The shriek of the tempest was accompanied by a persistent hum like- a flight of bomb-dropping 'planes in torment. He could not for a moment identify tins large clamour until the gale deposited on the alleged footpath myriads of storm-driven locusts, crickets, cicadas,'or whatever they are, in his path. One forgets what theeo rather dismal-looking black leapers chew for dinner, hut whatever it is the storm-tossed hummers were not eating it —hence Nature was at her usual game of striking a balance. Maybe those insects, humming in terror and deprived of the dear old home by the gale, survived, hut it is certain there were fearful casualties, for the man herein mentioned crunched large numbers 'to death before he reached his gate. It occurred to ope that Nature might have staged a natural disturbance to deal with the white butterfly pest, or something to blow the purple aphis over, or a panacea with boiling oil in it for wood lice, cod!in moth or canvassers. As it was, the relatively innocuous black leapers trodden on by man and kicking up a devil of a noke were the chief sufferers. This is an appeal to Boreas to be more catholic in his onslaughts. There is a colony of Maori bugs on a patch who deserve a windy death if ever insect earned it. But the windiest wind refrains..from-driving ( Maorj^ug^aroinaifa.wa.^