THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 58, 9 March 1932, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.)

' Tie paragraph detailing , the fate of four "dead certs" at the races prompts "Hodge" to offer his list of winners. There are five, he

says, namely, the GovTURF TOPICS. crnment, the bookmaker,

the romanticist, who backs winners "theoretically," the crook mathematician, and last but not least, the man who stays at home. "Hodge" adds that he used to put money on horses regularly, but gave it up because he found the money used to fall off when they etarted to gallop. M.A.T. is tempted to quote the encrusted story of the melancholy racegoer who was asked why he looked so sad. "Well, it's like this," he said. "I met a pal, who gave .me a winner. He said, 'Now keep it to yourself; it's a real good thing.' I should have been quite all right if I 'had kept it to myself, but, like a fool, I went and told a bookie about it, and left my money with him!"

"No rhino seen, no 'rhino' paid," is reported to be the financial—or non-financial—basis on which picnic teas are given in Kenya Colony to see a family of tame "RHINO." rhinoceroses. By the way, what a clumsy plural that is. If we can. have "hippopotami," why not "rhinoceri"? However, that's beside the point. What M.A.T. set out to discuss was "rhino," not the abbreviation of the name of the huge African pachyderm (good one, that!), but the word as used to indicate money. Curious how 'rhino' has gone out of fashion. Way back in the 'nineties and "efVfiy noughts," as they were once expressed, it" was a common term, sharing its somewhat doubtful honours with "spondulicks," "dibs" and "oof." New Zealand's pet term appears to be "oscar," which is run a close second by "hoot." "Oscar" is an excellent example of Cockney rhyming slang, being derived from "Oscar Ashe," which is, being interpreted, "cash." Mr. Ashe was a very successful actor in former days, and a member of the famous Benson Shakespearean Company. He later made a pile of money out of "Chu Chin Chow," which had a record run in London.

That cheery little publication, the "Diomede Chronicle," or "Journal of the New Zealand Navy," to use its alternative, and much more high-sounding JACK ASHORE, title, seldom fails to supply that intimate and personal touch so beloved by gossip writers in more expensive magazines. An extract from the "Personal" column in the latest issue is worth quoting in full, though M.A.T. takes the liberty of deleting the names of the parties concerned: "Mr. and Mr. spent their summer vacation 'down on. the farm' among the Gold Nuggets of Waihi. In a recent interview by the sub-editor upon their return, much information was received regarding 'Don'ts for Sailors' intending to spend their vacations upon farms. "We hope this information will be of future use when land-lubbing: Don't think a reaper and binder is a plough. Don't approach a cow on the port beam. Don't, on viewing a pumpkin plant for the first time, exclaim, 'What lovely Soccer balls you grow here!' Don't try 'shinging a shong'; the cows go off their milk. Don't leave your No. l's within reach of the pet goat. Don't ring down 'Slow —Stop' when horse riding; just pull the reins, the horse does the rest. Don't ask the cows to give their milk up, take it from them. Don't take a fortnight's leave; it's not enough to become really acquainted with farm life."

At the risk or turning "The Passing Show" into "Racegoers' Gossip," M.A.T. ventures to relate the story of Moifaa, New Zealand's one and only winner in the MOIFAA. world's greatest steeplechase, the Grand rational, at Aintree, as told by an old-timer who knew the horse well. A trifle of "poetic license" is permitted to every man who tells strange tales of the turf, and the old-timer certainly struck a top note when he described the jumping powers of the Hawke's Bay lepper. "I was standing near the big jump at Ellerslie," he said, "when Moifaa came along. To eay he cleared it easily is putting it faruio mildly. He took off about a length in front of the fence, and there were many feet of space between the top twigs and his hoofs when he went over. He must have gained a good ten yards at that jump alone. Talk about jumping! It was more like flying. So I sez to myself, sez I, 'There's a Grand National winner if ever there was one.'" And, as all the world knows, Moifaa, in the colours of Mr. Spencer Gollan, "flew home" at Aintree. M.A.T. was reminded of a short conversation he once had with an Irish jockey who had made disastrous acquaintance with those terrible "grown" fences r.t Aintree. "Shure, 'twas a most interestin' expayrience," said the son of Erin. "The master 'ee brings me a glass o' bubbly wino and eez, 'Drink this, me bhoy, 'twill put courage into yez,' and, true enough, it did, but when we came to that awful jump at the Canal Turn the woine died out on me. I tell ye, sorr, a man who can go over the National courrse can jump planets with archangels."

Our Australian cousins have been catching it hot from a woman writer, who declares that men do not wear their clothes with grace. They dress themselves .FASHIONS eloppily, she says, and FOR MEN. walk about as if they had a burden to carry. Some retort that they have —a heavy financial burden—but the more liberal plead guilty to all the charges. There is nothing drabber than a crowd of men, almost all in suits of various shades of grey, and wearing felt hats to match. Looked down upon from a window or a roof, the sight is depressing. All of which is probably true and terribly sad. The lady goes on to implore a change in hat fashions, and she points out, with every reason, that the average hat of the average man is totally unsuited to the warm summer of Antipodean countries. Why not re-adopt the "boater," she asks, and her query will doubtless be echoed by thousands of unemployed workers in the strawplaiting industry, as well as by thousands of shopkeepers in every big city, who simply cannot sell their existing stock. Did you know that a perfectly good straw hat can now be bought for less than half its landed cost? Strange how fashion has deserted the "straw yard." The way of the dress reformer'is hard, particularly in the realm of men's wear. Some years ago there was a sporadic outbreak of hat fashions, fostered by London's most enterprising penny newspaper, and the nine days' wonder was the sequence of weird designs that adorned its pages. Nothing came of it, needless to say. M.A.T. humbly suggests that a certain. amount of space should be devoted to men's fashions in the public Press. Something of this kind ought to brighten things up: "A delightful display of fashions was seen amongst the men at Ellerslie to-day. Mr. So-and-so was tastefully attired in a tussore suit of/ cream, with faint pink stripes, shirt and socks to tdlie, white Panama hat with blue ribbon." And so on. That sort of thing would encourage the pioneers of fashion, and it wouldn't be' long before we saw a much brighter trend. After a definite break from the orthodox had been made it should be only a matter of t'me before the gallants strutted the lawn in doublet and hose and every man carried his sword and wore his plumed hat.

THOUGHTS FOR TO-DAY. Patience sweetens the temper, stifles anger, extinguishes and subdues pride; she bridles the tongue, refrains the hand, tramples upon temptation, endures persecution; patience overcomes all things. —St. Theresa. It is worth more to be the head, of a mouse than the tail of a lion. —Spanish proverb.