THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LIX, Issue 119, 22 May 1928, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.) "And do you know anything?" asked M.A.T. of his young friend of the hyperion curls, "that would make Auckland people ropablo if they read it?" WHAT'S IN "I do," replied Geoff rubA NAME? bing his pudgy hands. "Yesterday the son of an American millionaire was leaning over the rail of the Aorangi talking to his indulgent paw. 1 "Say, paw!" he murmured, "Elmer's sure lost. I haven't seen him for ten minutes. Last I saw of him he was walking down the jetty." "Jetty!" Ye gods and little fishes. "Jetty!" This is the Prince's wharf on which Mr. Mackenzie spent seven hundred thousand pounds (and extras). When Mr. Coolidge reads his "Passing Show" it may shock him to know how persistently and cruelly his fellow countrymen belittle us. Does Calvin know that we have a Wharf at Stanley Bay? The family, including (shall one say, Essie?) sat within the magic circle of the hearth, and the family cat sat on it, wrapt in sleep, maybe dreaming THE CHILD MIND, of heaven with mice emerging from every golden hole. And Essie, dreamily contemplating the fire and the cat, said, "Oh, Mother, I do wish I was a cat!" "Good gracious, Essie," said mother, "whatever do you want to be a cat for?" "'Cos cats don't have to go to school," said Essie with thoughts on to-morrow. On these sporting trips guns, cartridges and other lethal wave are all secondary or tertiary to the tucker hamper. When a trio of sportsmen left the city THE to eradicate bird life they GASTRONOMISTS, packed a basket with provisions both dry and otherwise and left it with Jack to bring down to the train in the morning. He paraded pronto at the appointed time with the basket. At three in the afternoon, being sick of slaughter, the three men in a punt were ravenous and sat beneath a tree. Jack, with glistening eyes, unstrapped the hamper, squeezed the top lid off, dived in and produced a pair of bowling shoes, two bowls, an oily rag, a measure, a_ club blazer, an elaborate hat with a club band, etc. But what he produced in greater abundance was the unpardonable language of his confreres. Jack miserably concluded that he had picked up the wrong basket, the exterior of which was identical with that of the casket containing tucker. Sullen with hunger and sick with slaying they punted towards the swamp edge. There with tightened belts they met a fat and frolicsome Hone, who guffawed loudly at their misfortune. But he was a good chap. They were exceedingly hungry and ate heartily. Arriving at the respective homes that night their respective wives threw all the windows up and sprinkled disinfectant. It was the first time any of the three had dined oh dried shark topped off with the succulent eel, with kumara dessert. "Silver King": Mum and I celebrated our silver wedding lately, and, although we modestly intimated months beforehand to a large circle of acquainTHE FISHERS, tances that the affair was imminent, the net results do not, I should imagine, exceed in value four pounds ten. Among the "handsome and costly presents" were duplicates—two plated cream jugs, to be exact. Now in London I understand they arrange for these duplications and one may swap a fish server for a door mat or a couple of salt cellars for a pair of vases. Many shops confine their activities solely to this branch of business. I fancy, however, that young couples contemplating marriage are hardly as frank nowadays as their great-grandparents. Here is a newspaper announcement dated Carmarthen, April 29, 1834: "As we intend to enter the Matrimonial State on Tuesday, the 27th day of May next, we are encouraged by our friends to make a BIDDING on the occasion, the same day, at the sign of the Albion, situate in Dame Street, at which time and place the favour of your good company is humbly solicited, and whatever donation you may be pleased to confer on us then will be thankfully received, warmly acknowledged and cheerfully repaid whenever called for on a similar occasion, "By your most obedient Servants, "William Llewellyn "(Tailor) "Mary Davies " (Late servant at the Old Ivy Bush.)"

A bishop (Dr. Furse, of St. Alban's) has suggested a fearful possibility. He foresees the day when by television he may be seen on a screen in New York THE BATH. taking his morning bath in his palace bathroom. He told his flock that the only place he can secure privacy at the present moment is in the said bath. Sooner or later every Englishman boasts to the interested public of the fact that he does indulge in complete immersion every day, for this bathing business is really a new toy as far as the race is concerned, and it is only within recent times the ablution in the "altogether" has been at all common. One searches still in vain in oldfashioned houses for any evidence of a bathroom. A century ago a man who threatened to wash himself all over would have been regarded as a suicide. Pepys, in his diary, makes quite a song of having his head washed by the housemaid and grumbles quaintly at the cold he caught. There is the story of the horny-handed tenant looking over a new cottage and coming to the bathroom. " 'Ere's a nice little room," he says, "wot can we do with it?" A certain New Zealand mining company put bathrooms in all its cottages. With a few boards and a mattress laid over the bath they made fine little bedrooms! Remember Bindle? His "missis" insisted on him taking an "altogether" and supplied the movable bath, water, soap and so forth. From the room came delighted hisses and loud song. Bindle, having poured the water down a hole in the floor, sat in his clothes until the time he calculated a bath lover would take in immersing himself had elapsed. Then glowinjj with face friction he emerged triumphant, holding a sodden towel and wet soap in his hand. MAY. Th e rich brown earth drinks luscions draughts Of rain from out the gracious skies; Sin pa to the music of the spade, _ Laughs with the cleansing west wind's sighs. The teeming soil, astir with life. Whispers its secrets to the seeds, Super-magician making man. And making all for all 'his needs. The homely sod, kissed by the Father Sun, Mothers the myriad flowers, paints petals rare, Calls to her children, "Wake, my little ones. Open your eyes upon an earth most fair." A million million forms will beautify The gladsome spring when the Earth-Mother speaks, ® bud, the blossom—finished fruit— The miracle of but a few short weeks. So Nature's noblest work, the Common Man, Delves so that full fruition be his meed, a i 8 wonder seeds within the magic earth, lowwith hope that they may all succeed, loving care he tends the tender plants, t«ii « 5 a n ? fairer place than his dear plot, »rtS n t^?. re^ r ? y he screams aloud to heaven, oa, hell, the slugs have scoffed the blinkin' lot "CHAOTICS." Well, how did you get on with it? No headaches? Here is the solution of the starter: Nicartha Thracian Here's a bobby dazzler for to-night. Looks more like a Hindustani swear word than a respectable matter in which every father and mother is vitally interested: H*tt«rrbi