THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 57, 9 March 1931, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.)

Dear M.A.T., —As the whole world knows (or ought to know) there is a freemasonry of fishermen. Nothing could be nicer than to see how an angler who A GOOD SCOUT, meets with misfortune is befriended by his fellows, and it is not only the deep-sea experts who experience it. During the golden evenings of the present (or should it be the past?) summer I have spent many a happy hour piper fishing from one of the harbour wharves, and often enough I have been given a helping of bait when my own supply has run out. Occasionally, too, I have been helped when, through laziness on by own part, I have come unprovided. But the prize instance of unselfishness happened a few mornings ago. An enthusiastic youth had spent the whole night fishing for vellowtail. He arrived at nine o'clock and was there until breakfast time, but his catch was small. Then surprising things began to happen, though not to him. Two more enthusiasts, both of maturer years, came down to try their luck, and one of them promptly hooked and landed a fine kahawai. He had heard of the patient one's unproductive night out, and promptly gave him the fish. If that man wasn't a Boy Scout in his early youth, he jolly well ought to have been. He certainly did his good turn on this occasion, for the young man went home rejoicing.—Piscator. Lucky New Zealanders, whose facilities for fishing would turn most anglers in the Old Country green with envy, would be amazed if they saw one of the ONE SHRIMP! big matches in progress The most elaborate preparations are made, the array of tackle is £■ thing to marvel at, as are the skill and patience of the competitors, to say nothing of the smallness of the "bags." It is no uncommon event for an All-England match to be won with a catch of three pounds, or less, and there are on record "All-England" days when the title of champion has been secured with less than a pound! Think of it, ye sclinapperseizers, with your hundredweight catches Even the sea occasionally fails to yield-up its treasures, as witness the latest: "At SouthI wold, Suffolk, a sea-angling competition was organised, the prizes being a goose and a duck for the best and second best cod caught there on the Wednesdays and Saturdays between November 8 and December 23. But nobody caught a cod on any of those days. The committee met; thirty-four competitors each paid ore shilling entiance fee; and they fished for another two hours on Boxing Day. Still no cod came out on the end of a hook. The posii tion was now getting desperate, so the committee decided that the largest fish of any 1 and should win the first prize. Another i >ne shilling entrance fee was paid —and tensa ■5 ilenee reigned for a further hour and a half. 1 "hen the piermaster landed a shrimp —on a aod hook—and won the Christmas goose! The cB uck has not yet been won."

The old-timers were chatting over their adventures on the racecourse long years ago, ai id one of them recalled the day when, as

he put it, "backing lowers EINAL FLUTTER, was a pleasure." It had been somebody's birthday an d the festive spirit prevailed, for it was ah o Yuletide. What a combination! "After evt Jry race we cracked a bottle," said the veteran. "We had started with one good winneibut there our luck had ended, and for the res t of the afternoon it was simply a case of i handing back the shekels. I remember how we> pinned our faith on a gee named Napper, but he must have taken a nap, for he camo str( illing home long after the race was over. My pal said he was one of those polite horses —yi ou know, always turning round and saying to ithe others, "After you, my friend; after v'oul" Anyway, we continued the good work in t$ le booth after each race, and all of a sudden my partner said: 'I've got it! We'll run i a sweepstake on the last race. No more backjing losers for us.' So out he goes and begifs to shout, 'Now, boys, who says a ticket in tlie sweep? Roll up for the last flutter.' We coticed people were laughing a bit, but we wore not in the mood to worry about that, anyhow. After a few minutes I heard the band 'playing, and it dawned on me that the ' were over. We had been organising a sweeps take on nothing. However, Ave got a lot of fun out of it. You don't need to back all the- winners if you're in good company— and alas in the right mood!"

Dea' r M.A.T., —The following in an Aus

tralian t newspaper seems to convey a message for New' Zealand. It is from the wife of a

Civil servant in a Vic"FIGURi 4.TIVE torian country town: "I Fll ATHERS." wish Mr. Scullin would

reduce the wages of the Civil Ser vice. One way and another nearly everyone is on half-pay here, so we are like pariahs. When our friends meet to chat socially off hard times what can we say? They aren't du r Lard times. Our income has really appreciati'jl with the decreased cost of living. I feel likii a highwayman when I buy fruit at its prasent low price, knowing what the grower is '.up against. Voluntary giving will not rehsbU itate our self-respect.' If we subscribe royrn'ly to some deserving project the local verdici: is that 'It's easy for them that's sheltered to be generous.' Or 'The way they can throw i s oney about with just as good folk nearly brok<>!' At every turn, so to speak, we are prt sented with figurative white feathers. Na, Mr. Scullin isn't so much our friend as pcj haps he thinks he is." —AntiYowl.

Dear M.A.'T., —I was rather interested in your paragraph "Umbrella Heirlooms" because all my friends .laugh and look doubtful when I tell them that I have EVERLASTIH G. only had one umbrella in my life, carrying and using the same one for forty years. * I bought it in Melbourne, and it has had many neys and adventures. The faithful old friend only has his wla'te ivory handle left of his original make-up. lam still continually using it and am in hopo 3 of it seeing me out. —W.P. (Remuera). "W.P." broughs b in the veteran for M.A.T.'s inspection. Its veu arable handle reminded one of the story of the old cricketer who showed his favourite bat to a friend. "There's a bat for you!" he said. "Had it for fifty years. Fifty solid years; 3 nd it's only had two new blades and one new handle in all that time!" THOUGHTS FOR 1?0-DAY. We live in deeds, notyears, in thoughts, not breaths; In feelings, not in fig ures on a dial. "We should count tiui e by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most, ft * ils the noblest, acts the best. Where imperfection craseth, heaven begins. —Philip James Bailey. * «■ * * The rose is fairest when 'tis budding new, And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears; The rose is sweetest wrtfsh'd with morning dew, And love is lovelie 81 when embalmed in tears. —Sir Walter Scott.