THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 10, 13 January 1931, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.)

FATHER'S PICNIC. Who loads up the family bus While his critics just lock on ami cuss,. Who drives all the way On a warm, sunny day Next to Archibald, Cholinondeley and ous. Who obeys every family wish And .similes with cui>. plate and disli, And totters around, Putting things on the around. Who hammers "the tent ill possisii . Who sees that all works out to plan? Who acts as the property man. Who sees that the rest (Jet tlits best of the best. And nibbles a bite when lie can. Who gets out ami sees to the car, When homeboiind, it stops witli a jai, And takes all the blame Kor the whole bally same.' Without any doubt, it's nana. _ AH . Sir Douglas Mawson informs as that the soutli magnetic pole is peripatetic and has moved from the spot provided for it by sive scientists. Scientific ABSENT. will pardon laymen for being just a leetle bit frightened, or exhilarated, as the case may be. For instance, if thU Polar vagrancy continues, one liHd only to sit still for an aeon or two to come round to London.. A noii-ecientiet -roes so far as to say "that Macaulay may have been right when he predicted that some future New Zealander would sit on a broken arch or London Bridge surveying the ruins >of St. Paul's, the south magnetic pole being tne tourist agency. Scientists are extremely frightening. One immensely celebrated geolo.riet once Took a look at Wellington Harbour and remarked casually that as New Zealand had rtaen out of the sea it might retire again into the same element. Nothing in Nature (including the Poles) seems to stay still in these upsetting times. By the way, when the above geologist predicted the disappearance of New Zealand a deep-sea skipper remarked that it would be rotten luck if on one of.his trips he arrived and found nothing to tie to.

It's very hot in Adelaide, both meteorologically and industrially. People go about with waddies in their lists and police have revolvers near at hand, and all is HOT SHOP ! not well. Adelaide has always been a pious place, but it breaks out periodically like a junior Chicago. It is even more cosmopolitan than Auckland, hence the peevishness. What used to strike a stranger to Adelaide in earlier times was the frequency of- the German language, young Crowea'ters born in the country 0 often using either English or German. The warm city at one time even went SO far as to use German Mayors, and the surrounding terrain often had colonies of people from Wilhelmland who were, however, regarded without venom. It was in South Australia that the ways of the old-style Vaterland were common. Fritz believed in work for women, and one might sometimes see Fritz with an heirloom pipe in his mouth and thick spectacles leaning over a paddock gate seeing that G-rcitchen ploughed a straight furrow or chopped the bush down properly. Adelaide has the undeserved reputation of possessing more churches and hotels than other Australian towns of like size. It stops work and closes all its shops sometimes while the dust storms blow, but for all that it is a very charming town, the majority of the people being as harmless as you are yourself. Adelaide was the first town to welcome the first New Zealand troops to return after the first foreign war in which they were' engaged. Adelaide was more vivacious than one would have thought possible. Its ladies literally parted the raiment of the brave lads among them and bore away buttons, puttees and other necessary equipment. When New Zealand troops marched up King William Street thirsting most frightfully a party of men-o'-warsmen fought through the crowd bearing bottles of beer to the fainting warriors. Beer was threepence a "butcher" in Adelaide at the time. Ah, them was the days!

Tons and tons of paper have 'been used in the registration of taxable men under the Unemployment Act. Nobody has worked it out in terms of trees, SCRAPS 0' PAPER, but it would be about as many as an ordinary farmer would burn off in a successful afternoon. There was a time during the black period, 1914-18, when ijhere was hardly a scrap o' paper about and people were implored to turn their used-envelopes inside out and send them on again. If you remember, it was when there was no paper that the prevailing Government, having registered everything possible (including fighting men over iifty), called for a registration of fruit trees on voluminous forms printed, no doubt, on the paper that didn't exist, or words to that effect. It seems to be remembered that all citizens harbouring more than two trees were considered to be orchardists within the scope of the regulations, and therefore were forced to use the paper that didn't exist. Thousands of anxious fruitgrowers, with anything up to three peach seedlings, might be seen in State offices frantically aiding the paper shortage and helping to end the war by rilling up the forms. The inventor of the war measure has never been decorated, as far as one knows. Since then, of course, paper manufacturers have made some more paper, and the time is ripe for some inventive genius to make us register our blackberries, goree, broom and other crops.

Man at his best is predatory. Remove the hand of authority and where are you? He had a bach, he had a lien. She covered thirteen eggs exactly, and UNLUCKY 13. there was rejoicing when sho produced the whole baker's dozen of chicks. He watched them grow day by day. They waxed fat and edible. In the vicinity picnickers do greatly abound. One day the chicken raiser with a bag of feed went down the section making inviting noises. No responsive music came from the chicken enclosure. Indeed, there were no chickens. He searched for them and called affectionately, hoping to see yellow legs splinting towards breakfast. He searched outside his section where picnickers had most abounded. In a little ghastly heap lay thirteen chicken heads. The picnickers had returned to town. Even the most polite picnickers rarely screw a chicken's head completely off. As he told M.A.T. the story, the chicken rearer's hands worked convulsively. It is clear he desires to close them round the neek of the stray bird who clutched his clutch. "I took a trip to Motuihi," he said. "It is lovely down there. Every prospect pleases and only man is vile. There is a cow trough. The water in the trough WASHING UP. was as clear as crystal, and so was the water coming out of the tap. I had a beautiful drink from the tap. Coming back from my wanderings j I went to the trough again. Picnickers were washing up their luncheon dishes in it." Father was wielding his sevenpence halfpenny fly swatter with diabolical enjoyment, and little Bertie with a folded newspaper was his first lieutenant. BerFORGETFUL NOAH, tie paused in the slaughter to ask dad if it was true that Noah took two of everything into the Ark, and father told him yes. "Flies, too?" asked Bertie. ''Yes, two flies, , ' answered father brightly. "Why didn't Noah swat them before they got ashore, dad?"