RANDOM SHOTS

Auckland Star, Volume LVII, Issue 7, 9 January 1926, Page 22

RANDOM SHOTS

u\ XißtfX

No, Horace, I do not credit the report that the fine display of skins from North Auckland at the Dunedin Exhibition includes the skin of a soldier settler. A delightful new version of an old saying. An Aucklander was heard to say the other day that he was only a "prawn in the game." This might be described as a fishy opening. A Soviet football team, which wears ' red jerseys, is touring France. It is understood that much of the expected success of the tour has been spoilt by people taking the team for members of the Salvation Army. Also, it is to be noted that the team ■ has a captain. What, then, becomes of ■ equality? A complaint comes from Rotorua that motorists "thoughtlessly exceed a reasonable speed" in the Government gardens, thereby endangering the flowers by covering them with dust. Bless mc, if. motorists won't consider human beings, are they likely to consider flowers? Writing from Panama, a member of ! the Waimana's amateur crew says that when the ship left it had an orchestra ot a dozen instruments, but now only the bagpipes of a young Scot are left. A case of the survival of the unfittest. ) Talking of the Scots, a friendly correspondent forwards two recent paragraphs about his countrymen that have appeared in this column, and says he has. his eye on mc. So long as he does not put the bagpipes on to mc, -I don't . mind. Another correspondent gh'es mc a welcome opportunity of saying eoine- | thing nice about the Scots. From an Aberdeen paper that he sends it appears that Aberdonians can enjoy jokes against themselves. This is described by the paper as being "absolutely unavoidable." I "Have you heard that the Channel has been swum at last?" "No! Who by?" "An Aberdonian. He had been invited to stay in Paris for a week-end.", My attention is also drawn to the fact that last summer Aberdeen had a record number of visitors. Evidently what may be described as the keen business instinct of the Aberdonians does not keep people away. A by-law in England which is giving motorists'a good deal of thought, reads ; " When two motor cars meet at a street intersection both shall stop and one shall not move again till the other has gone." I don't quite know what thie means, but I think the pedestrian would welcome it here. A cable from London announces the invention of a device in the shape of elas-. tic hobbles to speed up pedestrians. The j inventor is entitled to congratulations for introducing a new method of "pulling the legs" of the public, but surely there is not a great demand for the invention. It seems almost as useless as inventing a device for attaching a tallow candle to an arc light to suggest that pedestrians can be further speeded up in these days of motor cars. , Rents aTe high on the New Zealand Railways. A labourer appeared at n, Police Court on a charge that he was | found by night "in an enclosed area, namely, a railway carriage at the station, but in circumstances which did , not disclose the commission of or the intent to commit any other crime," and was fined sixty shillings. The word "crime" might be a misprint for "grime," from what I read of the dust in railway carriages, but, if not, eurely it is a misnomer. Three pounds for use of an "enclosed area" for one night exceeds • Dunedin charges. THE HOLIDAY-MAKER'S RETURN. "Back to the Army Again" —this, or words to this effect, is the burden of the week. "E.A." sends mc the following verses on the subject:— I'm glatl to get back to work again, To take up the same old job. For holiday-time is a constant etram Away from the friendly mob. The simple life is a blunderbuss, And It hack-kicke when you rove Away from the hoot of a motor-bus And the smell of the old gas stove. I've been away from the dust and grime Of the city's rush and heat, And I've listened to the tui's chime, * In his leafy bush retreat. I've wandered along the moonlit strand And marvelled at Nature's sights, And now I'm back at the same old stand With a host of sandfly bites. j I'Te had free life and I've had fresh air For a crowded fourteen days, I've lived like a king or millionaire In the whirl of a giddy maze. I've burnt benzine on the open road And trodden the tossing deck, And now I reap what I madly sowed With a painful sunburnt neck. I beat the bookies on New Year's Day, They skinned mc clean at the trots; I've mortgaged the whole of nest%month's pay For taxis and sundry "spots." My slim bank roll I carelessly tossed For pleasure to reimburse, And now at my desk 1 count the cost And look at an empty purse. The call oi the primitive may lure From the old familiar round, But the milkman and the rent are sure On oar usual stamping ground, So we must come back. I'm glad I'm here, And I'll bet I'm gladder still That holidays come but once a year When I've reckoned up the bill. I find this rather cynical, and prefer the spirit of Swinburne's saying, th- " time remembered is grief forgotten.' So here goes:— The ledger blooms' with Christmas flowers, the figures will not add; Instead of "two and two males four," they dance about like mad, And give an answer, "South by East, and watch the tricky breeze," Or, "There's the epot for the tent, boys, up there by the friendly trees." My typist asks mc what of Jones, shall we ask him for a cheque? I answer that Otago seems to be getting It In the neck. And when she stares In her surprise and puts the point once more, I tell.her the set Is three to five, but see mc even the score! i "Your favour of yesterday received, in reply I beg to state, That I'm backing Lightly Como and Go for the Tilly of Tamakl Plnte. Xo! No! I think your price too high, so . 'Change the bowling, there!' And 'Tumble out, you lazy plgg, the water's rich and rare!' " The office is bright with memories, gay wisps of flowers and sea, The crowded course, the sun on the court, the furrow following free. Green of th<t grass, and blue of the -sky, and delicious hours by the way. I am yoked again to the plongh, boys, buf I cannot poll to-day!