THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 262, 5 November 1931, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.) THE FISHER'S PRAYER. This is the season of the year when the fish that got away was the biggest fish the gentleman with the rod. or line never caught. A disciple of Izaak, "J.W.W.," sends a variation of the "Fisherman's Prayer": Lord grant that I may catch a trout So large that writing to the "Star" about Its size and weight then even I Will have no need to tell a lie, ° Though editors my maths, may doubt.

There was a jolly little concert at Mount Eden prison not long since, and outsiders who attended it enjoyed it very much. 'When it was over the gaol chapTHE CONCERT, lain, Mr. Moreton, in thanking those present for coming, among other things, said: "Come again when you can. When you come I hope that none of us will be here." Succinct, hopeful, helpful. Dear M.A.T., —In a recent "Passing Show" column reference was made to the firm of Knock and Hyde, who were in Newton Road a quarter of a century NAMES. ' ago. The schoolboys then for a joke used to knock at the door and hide in the alleyway. Half a century ago in Marton was a legal firm rejoicing in the names of Cash and Easam. In an Auckland suburb is a Chinese fruit shop and the names on the window read "Kum and Sung." In the dim long ago Masterton had a drapery and millinery business the proprietors of which were Hooper and Schroeder. In an Australian temperance lodge eight members were named thus: Hand, Mee, Hay, Little, Moar, Brown, Beere, Quick. —Firefly.

This is the time of year when crafty parents flit from bargain basement to bargain seventh storey to buy presents to be stored

away what time there is PRE-ORDAINED, peace and good will to

men. This thrifty habit in parents naturally necessitates the discovery of some place within the home where the anticipatory treasures may be stored away from the eagle eyes of the potential recipient. There is the little story of small Freddy, a child of three or perhaps a little more, who, on being given the desire of his heart at Christmas time, found it alongside his wee sock. He rushed into the presence of his parents, exclaiming joyfully, "Oh, look what Santy Clans found for me on the top of the wardrobe in mummy's room."

An observer of men and beasts abides in the vicinity of the Blue Cross Hospital, and, in fact, by gazing through one of the windows, may see the potential "PUSS, PUSS!" patients as they are driven

or carried up. One is assured that the procession of people's pets to the door of hope is interesting and often touching. One day the observer noticed a motor car pull up at the gate of the hospital having a large covered basket on the back. A lady, obviously the owner of the potential patient, lifted the basket cover and anxiously looked inside. It was patent from the look of surprise that the patient was absent, and ultimately, after apparent consultation with the authorities, the lady drove away. And the observer, merely* from the visual evidence adduced, reconstructed a possible story. The lady, owning a cat of enormous proportions (on the evidence of the large basket), rose that morning to find dear old Timmy off colour. Fearful that Timmy was ill, she had instantly abandoned lier matutinal duties, carefully decanted Timmy into the big basket, and with him in the car had driven rapidly towards New Lynn. There would probably, thinks the observer, be a traffic jam in Karangahape Boad, a seasonable moment for a "s?c*t cat to revive, push up the lid of the basket, escape among the wheels, and make his way back to the good old home. The observer and inventor of the probabilities finds himself unable to add a touch of pathos, except that possibly when the disappointed lady returned with the empty basket she found Timmy lying on the hearthrug too full for words and in perfect health.

Mr. and Mrs, "Pegasus" have been interested in a paragraph herein calling attention to the comparative dearth of saddle horses and bold cavaliers in or about TO HORSE! Auckland. Mr. "Pegasus" sends an excellent pen and ink drawing of a Takapuna rider (obviously not belonging to the haute ecole of horseman-, ship) seated on a very nice horse indeed, the nag being accoutred with cavalry saddle, shoe pocket, numnah, bit and bridoon and cavalry head rope. The hatless rider is going hell for leather and is in the act of smiting his horse with a sjambok. The legend appended is: "'Aramer, 'ammer, ammer, on the 'ard 'igh road." Mrs. "Pegasus" adds that the art of horsemanship flourishes'in Takapuna and that scribes who foretell the demise of the hack arc misinformed. She can count twenty-two regular riders. These do not include the concrete hammerers from the fort, Mr. "Pegasus" believing that a War Department mount is provided by the Almighty with legs of steel. Although "he smelleth the battle afar off and is not affrighted," there would be every excuse for him to have the wind up. M.A.T. "is asked, should he know anybody who hasn't seen a horse- for years, to send him to Takapuna, where he can sec plenty, including Red Lion, who has not yet joined the band ojE hacks. M.A.T., who has heard "the shouting of the' captains," too, craftily devised the complaint about the disappearing hack to draw some protesting admirer of the good old prad. He is glad it drew Mr. and Mrs. "Pegasus," and Mr. "Pegasus" drew the dead spit of a troop horse that smelt the battle afar off in 1599.

Conversation with a valued if bald-headed friend induces one to retail the tale of the eminent engineer with the chestnut hair. Ho was singularly devoid of THE PARTING, facial herbage, and the

absence of eyebrows aided in distinguishing liim from tlie common herd. Necessarily a man of mathematical tendencies, it was a habit of his once in every three weeks to confide to any friend within hearing that he must really have his hair cut. This little confidence, no matter to whom it was made, was invariable. In the absence of any superior person in whom to confide he would brightly say to the lady who "did out" his office,°"My word, Mrs. X , I really must go out and get my hair cut," and immediately went, returning half an hour later with his hair decidedly shorter. He was an amiable man and in great request in consultation. One day his professional services were obtained by a firm with works across the harbour in the town where the engineer resided. It was a breezy day. The eminent engineer wore a cloth cap. The wind not only whipped off the cap, but with it his chestnut hair, and. of course, there was no come-back. Once denuded of his locks, the eminent engineer franklv explained, and, incidentally, gave a "lowin'nverbal testimony to his wig-maker. He men° tioned that he possessed a series of four wins each having hair of a different length, and was' thus able in some degree to simulate the efforts of Nature in the matter of growth. i T e told present scribe that his one regret during a hairless career was that no wig-maker coukl artificially reproduce eyebrows that would <leceivc the uninitiated" and popular world which wore real hair and genuine evebrows.