THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 141, 17 June 1929, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.) MONDAY MORNING. Monday morning, horrid, yawning, O l'or Sunday day. Traill car, I pine for thro. TXisli it! Can't you wait for mc? Action! Run! Or late I'll Do. Yon tramcar, stop, I say! Monday morning, rain at dawning, Office, shop and washing day. Ffushing, pushing, jostling, tearing. Nagging, whistling, laughing, glaring, In and out the workers flow— North ahd south and west they go. Good old labour day. —A.H. "Moxrto" writes: The eight-year-old daughter of a semi-literary man had had a rather quiet evening. Father was too busy writing letters to the papers anent the THAT CHILD AGAIN. Transport Board and to the Borough Council with regard to water meters to indulge in the usual game of "Coon-can" and the other light diversions of Saturday evening at home. Glancing abstractedly at his offspring to see how she was faring, he noticed her take a volume from the bookcase. "What have you there, dear?" said father. "Faust" (pronounced "Forst"), said young miss. "I hardly think that is a suitable book," ventured the literary ane. "Why not, I've just finished 'Light Freights'," replied the youngster. 0 tempora, O mores! Evidently the .sombreness of Goethe and the light-heartedness of W. W. Jacobs are all one to the child of to-day. The literary man thinks it will be better in future to spend the evening at the pictures watching "Girls' Gone Wild" or something. The local orator, with a bias for transharbour communication, was responding 011 behalf of a North Shore borough for the kind remarks of the chairman EASILY DONE, at a convivial meeting in Auckland on Saturday night, at which politics were, of course, strictly taboo. "Your fraternal welcome, Mr. Chairman, has accomplished to-night something which has so far baffled the political sagacity of the ruling administration; your greeting has sealed a bond which up to the present has been too much for our leading financial institutions; your kindness ■ has undertaken a job far more effectively than the resources of the industrial world, with its ability to handle rods of steel and piers of stone—you have bridged the Waitemata." (Loud applause.) Air hcrroes are sometimes called down from the clouds by people who never by any chance fly. Awhile since Lindbergh, the American flying man, made such POPULARITY, a sensation that the world wanted to kiss him, Now some of the world wants to kick him. It was like this: He landed a 'plane on a Washington 'drome the other day, and girls and others, filled with emotion, chased the 'plane. To got out of the way, Lindbergh taxied across the ground, splashing the girls with mud. A Washington paper, which never flies and is never chased by adoring flappers, burst out with a leader. "Our readers want to know whether or not we intend to tell that young smart aleck where he gets off," and takes to hinl with the gloves off for not staving right where his machine landed so as the girls might he emotional all around him. It is conceivable that air people love a week or two now and again without publicity. For instance, at the time of Lingbergh's engagement 110 landed at Mexico City. Hundreds of photographers, movie men and snapshottists flocked to the gates of the 'drome to shoot the unfortunate person as soon as he showed up. The local authorities not only forbade a single picture to be taken, but posted guards inside and 011 the grounds to confiscate the cameras. Not a single record was taken. As Charles climbed out he said, "Oh hell, it's sure like paradise!" Highly interesting to read that the American Vice-President, "Hell and Maria" General Dawes, American inventor of the reparation scheme is to dine with THE BRIBE. the British Prime Minister at Sir Alexander Grant's Logic House. Cablegrams mention that all eyes aj - e on that house. You see, Sir Alexander is the man Who gave Mr. Mac Donald a motor car in 1D24, and it was alleged by political antagonists that there was a deep scheme about it, although it was proved that there was not. The eyes of antagonists will be on the Scots millionaire. He might give the Prime Minister a bunch of flowers to buy a peerage with. Anyhow, there must be a scandal in it somewhere, or else that motor car incident wouldn't have been dug up and broadcast throughout the Empire. People who pet politicians, filling their eager hands with gold (yea, with much fine gold!) may be surprised to know that our forefathers often beseechTHE LUXURY, ed the King to be allowed to do without Parliamentary representation. The point was that the boroughs had to pay the wages of their own M.P.'s, aaid as this payment often amounted to two shillings a day the luxury Was considered too expensive. Richard IT. was awfully pleased with the people of Colchester for rebuilding their city walls, and he wanted to make them a present. He therefore ■ exempted them from sending a representative to Parliament for five years! Times change. The Empire could never exist if Whangapapona forgot to send an M.P. to Wellington. A collection of old ship's figiireheads is being inade in the local navy yard. As the figureheads will be chiefly seen" by man-o'-wars-men trained to be couraHISTORY IN WOOD, geous, M.A.T. offers no objection. Harmless civilians, suddenly coming 011 a yardful of gigantic wooden images, might be excused for getting the willies. There used to be one looking over a hedge at Stanley Bay. Passing it for the first time, M.A.T. instinctively put his hands up and surrendered unconditionally. You remember that the immortal Qitilp possessed a yardful of old figureheads and used to amuse himself by driving nails in them, carving bits off with a tomahawk or insultiii" them. He couldn't have been a real connoisseur. In the vicinity of Foxton- there lived a man who would have been a boon to the nation in figurehead days. He possessed genius and a farm. The home paddock next" to the road struck horror into every passer-by, for it contained dozens of aniiiials laboriously carved out of timber. Horses suddenly catching sisht of timber tigers glaring over "thfe fences used to bolt. Dear little boys with pea rifles would steal on Mr. Waicelin's zoological collection and fill the animals full of lead. People who would have been teetotallers if alcohol had remained undiscovered avoided that road. It would add charm to the Calliope collection if these gavgaiituan figures could be sprinkled among the figureheads. THOUGHTS FOR TO-DAY. I raise my glass to the silent horde, Spread o'er the world's expanse. To the unknown man who might have soarcl Tt lie oiily had a chance. —Anon. * * * Cold hearts beat hot, hot hearts beat cold. And I beat 011. Yes, yes, t am old. —Thomas Hardy.