ANECDOTES AND STORIES.

Auckland Star, Volume LV, Issue 307, 27 December 1924, Page 18

ANECDOTES AND STORIES.

CORRECT! "What is a man-of-war?" "A cruiser." "What makes it go?" "Its screw, sir." "Who goes with it?" "It's crew, sir." ACTRETH WITH A LITHP. Miss Jose Collins tells a good story or a minor actress who was given a small speaking part in a curtain-raiser. Although apparently herself quite spoke with a pronounced lisp, and the writer of the playlet, who evidently knew this —he had probably heard her conversing—worked in a lisp in the few lines that were allotted to her. After the first rehearsal lie asked her how she liked her part. '■Fine, ,, whs the reply, "but there'th one thing I think rather thilly about it. Why do you make mc play it with a lithp?" THE DEATH OF LIBERTY. Ralph Nevill, the genial chronicler of "The Fancies, Fashions, and Fads" of j society, to quote the title of one of his earlier books, and whose "Paris of Today" is being widely read, records this haracteristic French view of prohibition : as made by a distinguished Frenchman on a visit to the United States:— "What the French think of the latter (prohibition) ) may be gathered from the remark made by one of their public men as his ship pas.-cd the statue of Liberty, outside New York Harbour. "'I see, , said lip, speaking to American friends, 'that you, too, put up monuments to jour great dead!'" A WAGNER STORY. Wagner had a magnificent silk cos- ; tume, of no particular period, which, ' ■ complete with headgear and undercloth- I ing of the same material, he always wore when he composed. Alexandre Dumas, calling upon him one day, was kept waiting some time, and at length | Wagner, thus gorgeously attired, I appeared. The two men did not hit it ] off, and Dumas left somewhat annoyed. ! Wagner returned the visit, and was ! in his turn Kept waiting, until the novelist swept into the room wearing a | beplumed helmet, a lifebelt, and a I dressing gown. He apologised for j appearing in "working costume," but explained that he derived all inspiration i from the helmet and a pair of topi boots, which he put on specially to write love scenes. A "BLIND" JOCKEY. Of the famous jockey, Jim Snowden, there is an amusing tale. Snowden was at his best a great jockey, but he was rather too fond of the bottle. Once at Catterick Bridge Jim was riding a good old plater called Aragon. By the time he came into the paddock to get up he had been doing himself pretty well. He looked at the horse walking round and said to the boy leading him: "Take those blinkers off." The boy said ' that the horse always ran in them. I "I tell you," said Snowden, "take those blinkers off; it's bad enough to have a blind jockey, without having a i blind horse as well." He won the race! CROSS-EXAMINATION. "Halloa, Pat; I heard your dog is dead." "It is." "Was it a lap dog?" "Yes, it would lap anything." "What did it die of!" - ---"It died of a Tuesday." "I mean how did it die?" "It died on its back." "I mean how did the dog meet its death?" "It didn't meet its death, its death overtook it." "I want to know what was the complaint?" "Xo complaint. Everyone for miles around seemed to be satisfied." "1 wish to know how did it occur." "The dog was no cur, he was a thoroughbred animal." "Tell mc what disease did the dog die of." "He went to fight a circular saw." "What was the result?" "The dog only lasted one round." "MY DEAR WATSON." Recent publication of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's reminiscences has of course, renewed interest in Sherlock Holmes and his creator. In the palmy days of the great detective it was often supposed i that he was a real person—an obvious 'tribute to the realistic powers of his ! author. But the only prototype from which Doyle worked up his creation of a superlatively clever detective was a surjgeon at the Edinburgh infirmary, a j Joseph Hell, whom Doyle met in his stuident days. J Bell was a remarkable man in body j and mind. lie was a skilled surgeon, but his strong point was diagnosis, not only of disease, but of occupation and character. In one of his cases Hell said to a civilian patient: "Well, my man, I you've served in the army." "Aye, sir." "Xot Ion;: discharged?"' "Xo, sir." "A highland regiment?" "Aye, sir." "A non-enm. officer?" "Aye, sir." Stationed at Barbadoes? ,, 'Aye, sh\" ''You see, gentlemen," he would explain, "the man was a respectable , man, but he did not remove his hat. They do not in the army, but he would have learned civilian ways if he had been long discharged. He has an air of authority, and is obviously Scottish. As to Barbados, his complaint is elephantiasis, which is West Indian and not British."