THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 216, 12 September 1929, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.)

THE PHILANTHROPIST. The will of Mr. Bernhard Baron, tobacco manufacturer and philanthropist, has been sworn for probate at £4,944,220. He has left ; some £2,000,000 for public purposes.—London cablegram. They told me, when a prattling child, About the sin of wealth, How noble poverty can be If backed by robust health. How money is and always was The root of every evil, And how the rich man always went Hot-foot towards the devil. How easier for a camel to Walk through a needle's eye Than for the rich to go to heaven When their turn came to die. But now I think that could I choose A new job, in my prayer I'd ask, on philanthropic grounds. To be a millionaire. Unselfishly I shall amass Five millions as a hoard In order that philanthropy I'm able to afford. In a land flowing with milk and money it is usual to talk about the "dual-purpose cow," but a man with three professions and one wage is seldom heard PORTMANTEAU of. A recent advertiseJOBS. ment is therefore of interest to those Admirable Crichtons among the unemployed whose versatility can be proved. Thus among the Wanteds: "Hairdresser.—Able to do watch or boot repairs.—Apply ." In days gone by [that menace to the Musicians' Union (a oneman band) was a feat; of the streets. A combination hairdressei ./iirber and boot repairer may lead other jacks of all trades to become three-purpose employees. Thus ' a ledgerkeeper could employ his hands at his books, his feet at a sewing machine and his brains in thinking out new avenues of wealth for his employers. The super-hairdresser, who during the day soles and heels Bill's bluchers and in his spare moments fits hairsprings to gold watches, shall have M.A.T.'s one-hundred-

guinea chronometer to mend —yes! Other commercial combinations, such as ledger clerks who add figures with their hands and run a treadle machine with their feet, or policemen who walk the beat and employ their hands in knitting, would add variety to existence, and, it is hoped, capital to their employers.

Three men, according to "Taffy," were engaged in trade. It is a long time ago and elsewhere, so nobody need fit any caps. It

unfortunately occurred THE PRESCRIPTION, that unpleasant allega-

tions ensued, and true it is that the business closed down. It preyed on the mind of one of the three and it became necessary to send him to a mental hospital. He was surprised one day to meet his erstwhile partners in the grounds of the hospital. They had come to see him and chatted in a friendly manner for quite a while. When they had gone the inmate said to an official, "What are those two fellows doing in my hospital? They ought not to be in a hospital; they ought to be in gaol." "There must be mice in the house," said father, observing small caverns in the loaf. "Oh, that's Minnie!" replied mother. "She loves new bread," which NEW BREAD. will explain the incident. Minnie said to mother, "Mum, the baker didn't leave any bread today." "No," said mother, "I didn't put a note on the door for him, we had a loaf left." So Minnie was robbed of her little luxury, obtained by digging a new loaf with little finger nails. But Minnie intended that this sort of thing should not happen again. Next day she pinned to the door this message: "Baker, half a loaf is better than no bread."

Long, long ago a pair of partners, addicted to business and other ways of passing a pleasant day, used on occasions, when clients hesitated to arrive, to THE KEY. stroll across the street

and there refresh themselves with restoratives and conversation. One evening, having done so, they bade a bright farewell to the ministering angel and regained the open air. Hesitating on the step, the senior partner said. "You've got the office key, haven't you?" "Xo! I haven't got the office key," said the junior partner. "Well, why haven't you got the office key? I saw you put the office key in your waistcoat pocket!" "You never did see me put the office key in my waistcoat pocket. I saw you put the office key in your trouser pocket." They gazed sternly at one another. The senior partner went so far as to assert that the junior partner was a liar. The junior partner retorted hotly that Ananias was a prefect George Washington compared to the senior partner. They tripped slightly on the mat and marched steadily shoulder to shoulder across the intervening road. The junior partner savagely pushed the office door. It flew open. The key was in the lock.

Dear M.A.T., —While riding in a service car recently between Pirongia and Whatawhata the car stopped at a place where there

were a number of letter RURAL DELIVERY, boxes in a row, those

known as rural delivery boxes, somewhat out of line, uneven in height, minus a lid or two, and all more or less dilapidated-looking. There was a Yankee traveller sitting next to me, and he said: "Say, what are those things for ?" I told him, and he said, "Wal! I thought it was a New Zealand bee farm!" The passengers laughed quite heartily for a while, and also the driver, whose steering was erratic for a minute or two. My turn came later on, when we passed a dilapidated-looking cocky with red hair and blue overalls on. He was driving a skinny, roach-backed old horse harnessed to a homemade sledge, loaded with two battered and somewhat rusty milk cans. The Yankee traveller said, "Say, now what can that bloke be ? And then there was more laughter than before when I told him the bloke was a retired American globe trotter.—J.B.D.

Constant Reader," inferring that several dog stories immortalised here have fallen short of the truth, mentions the intelligence of a A tuttttt-o- kel P ie slut reared and A MILKY TALE, worked on a northern . farm and owned by two Irish gentlemen. At milking time Lassie would without being told round up the cows and bring them to the yard. On a certain day she had difficulty with a cow and calf and at last brought the cow with the mob, but left the calf. Lassie waited for some time until the milking had begun pnd then backed up to a full bucket and dipped her tail in. She raced down the paddock to the lonely calf and successfully brought it to the yards adhering to her tail.

Several bright young men sat in the look-and-listen picture theatre and gazed at a moving drama of military life. A connecting tnn o legend thrown on the -LOCAL COLOUR, screen said something to this effect: "Infantry on tne move in the famous Khyber Pass." It interested the young men immenselj'. Said one of tneni: "Garn! I don't believe they ever took that talkie in Auckland! It ain't a bit like Khyber Pass!" A THOUGHT FOR TO-DAY. Earth yis not earth without heaven, as a landscape is not a landscape Avithout the sky.— G- K. Chesterton.