THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 61, 13 March 1929, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.) The two tiger cubs which were born in the Auckland Zoo on January 14 have died. It is stated that their mother neglected them and they had to be hand ZOO NEWS. fed. They succumbed to a disease akin to pneumonia. However there is good news altout the Siamese wildcat triplets, which are doing well, about the young wildebeeste, which promises to outgrow its mother, and. best of all, about the baby hippopotamus, which, says the Mayor, is flourishing and is not causing the attendants any anxiety. Auckland's tiger cubs have perished. Mourn with me their hapless lot. Disregarded by their mother They have simply gone to pot. But though dark the clouds may lower There is good news yet to tell; Tell it from the Town Hall tower. Baby Hippo's doing well! Willy Wildebeeste frisks and gambols. Soon hie mother he'll outgrow; Winnie Wildcat proudly ambles, Bonny triplets she can show. Send the news to veldt and thicket. Ring Siam's best temple bell. Tell them, too —ah, can you lick it?— Baby Hippo's doing well! Safe from papa's nasty tushes. Close to Bella's side he stays. Sometimes in the Zoo pond's rushes Mother with her baby plays; Tragedy no longer threatens, Auckland hearts with rapture swell. Ma with pride her whistle whettens, Baby Hippo's doing well!

Dear M.A.T.,—The other day "Choom," now bailing-up and stripping on a dairy farm near Te Aroha, waxed eloquent on the English cricketers in Aussie. Two"HISS GRACE." up being my long suit, I was not particularly interested, but when he asked, "Anyhow, who was the greatest evert" I could answer promptly, "Miss Grace," because I'd read about her so often. "Miss Gran'mother!" snorted Choom. "Ho was an old man." Then he let loose. "What abaht 'Obbs, an , 'Irst, an' 'Aywood and nah this 'ere 'Animond? An' then there was Bobby Habel—made more'n 3000 funs in a reason." I said it seemed a lot to run. With that out came the North Countryman's reserve artillery, the "Athletic News Annual." If you want to know how good George 'Irst was, M.A.T., you'd better get one. You won't be able to talk cricket to a Yorkehireman unless. Well, anyway, unbiased ones, who was the greatest ever? I'll bite.—Trebla.

A pair of philosophic Auckianderg stood at North Head and watched the Aorangi ploughing her majestic way past Rangitoto and on to the open sea. BEAUTY OR Steadily and surely the EFFICIENCY? great vessel steamed down the channel, her bow wave keeping its regular curve of snowy spray, whilst the smother of foam astern indicated the precise and ordered working of the propeller. There was something amazingly impressive about it all. Under Providence the Aorangi will reach Vancouver almost within an hour of the time which, long weeks ago, was planned, and she will steam back into Auckland's harbour on another day which is also appointed. Philosopher number one ventured to express something of this kind to his friend. He, however, was not impressed. "All the romance has gone from the sea," he declared. "I'd sooner see the old Olivebaqk being towed down the channel than see a score of floating steam engines." Number one admitted the grace and beauty of the old windjammer, but pointed out that there was some advantage in mechanical efficiency and in the knowledge that one might reasonably count on the arrival of self, letters or goods at a foreknown time. "Poor old Olivebank," he said. "Took her four months to get here from the Seychelles, took two tugs to tow her in, two days in dock to have the barnacles scraped off, two days to load a. bit of the Civic Square into her for ballast, and then two more tugs to take her down to TirL Four weeks then to Australia." The champion of beauty was not subdued. "Never mind, she's genuine, anyway," was his final shot. "She doesn't have dummy funnels and pretend to be coal-fired when she's really a motor ship. What they ought to do is to design a really artistic chimney." Number one suggested that something in the Elizabethan style might go well, but he was withered with a glance. And so they took the ferry back to town and saw, away to westward, the old Rewa pointing her bows towards the ocean, which she once sailed so proudly, but may never sail again. Eheu, fugaces! The queer blue marks which startle you when some brawny sailor's arm is thrust out beside you on shipboard, to which reference was made in a recent issue TATTOOING, of the "Star," are not always made for pleasure. Sometimes they have other and more sinister origin. One of these is the remarkable blue marks to be seen on a miner's face. These are the gentle tokens given him by a fall of coal, when some sharp piece cuts his head open and remains in the wound. But one man had carried the painful pleasure further. Hβ was tattooed all down the right leg, and his explanation opened up a queer tale. It was many years ago and a circus which came out of the East had this gentleman as its town agent. He was one of those interesting souls who cannot remain in one place, and he had toured the world, chiefly on foot, nearly all his life. Talking to him one day, a youn« art student asked how many tongues he reallv did speak, and he said if by tongues the questioner meant dialects, he 'spoke twentvfour. If languages, he spoke nearly all the European languages, Urdu, Tamil and Japanese, all of which he read and wrote. The talk turned on Burma, and he told this queer tale to explain why he was tattooed all down one leg. The dress of the Burmese, being flowing was worn exactly alike by both sexes in th~e days long before King Theebaw boiled his loving subjects alive and did other little amusing things to them, so that England had to interfere, and there was much fighting in the land. A chief could call on his followers on any pretence to fall in and ground arms, or what took the place of the gun barrel in those days. Now the Burmese have alwavs been an advanced people; their women take the same status as their men and often do most of the buying and selling in the marts of their towns. This constant state of unrest did not appeal to these people, so they took to the bush and all appeared dressed as womeu He marshalled them, but could not pick his me, from his women, either by looks or dress so an edict was issued that from that time everv ""it T ea^ a robe Which °P en «l over the rijrht thigh when he walked and nave his who!* leg tattooed. This legend had wrlisted in that part of the land ri|ht down present age, and when the student of languages and manners of strange people wished to n a *s as a Burman which he had done for some year Tr more, he too, had to submit to the painful 1,, " g h J ' S " ght ,e & tattooed from the thigh downwards. m

THOUGHTS FOR TO-DAY. Happiness is a perfume you cannot nonr • • • As for thy burden, be content to K» B?nvan° U C ° meSt tO plaCe ° f deli "™«.~ • • • Though we travel the world over t« * n A the beautiful we must carry it with d find it not.-Emersoo. mth "» or w *