THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 116, 18 May 1932, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.)

THE- HARDY ONES. On a frozen winter nwmiing. Half an Hour before the dawnUMS, When the rest of us are J'"«» m S' As they take their exercise. I said. ' Yes, I p&a-bacfc into hed! _ JQB ■ What is life without a-. fWUt £Jg GRASS-GROWN. gate. He was armed with a with, Sut any prelim^> 08 Voff a. and began digging With the ome moment the lady n^ u ld the piooceds nefarious person tfho had bunott to I Bear M.A.T.,— Reported that a white ALBINOS. these birds having been seen near Auckland. J.ne lectioS of stuffed New Zealand birds. It 18 still in my possession, the only white bud my collection. I have seen many, white, and partly white New Zealand birds, j nc ™| itgJn, kaka, crow, pukeko and hawk. Whig sparrows and white blackbirds aie tairiy common.—Old-timer.

Sedulous search for open-air exP ressi ?"* of art make it apparent that something has opened to the mural debtor. Jn tim e MURAL ART. $**£»$£ %%}£ wall with trophies of his caligraphy, and there wS linked hearts and rudely-carved initials everywhere. So persistent was thisi haMt amoii* people whose pictures will ne\ei be for Youii" litterateurs or mural decorator. [°Ll walls remain excellent »«{«£»'£ «H-ikin" wax matches on, but are to the } oun e artfS .One has recently looked in vain for new specimens of_this ciatte Unship, and it occurs to one that.either «ta modern boy hasn't the money to buy a knite to ca vo park sc.ats or excormte wooden wattj or that his citizenship is in fuller flower Die passion for carving public property 01 Jtaltil* [ing the same with a pencil is not J reetr cted to the hoodlum class. The seats and furnitme of the greatest schools in the Empire and elsewhere are excoriated with the names and comments o£ boys who have since becomo leadtei» of thought. Literary expression has been instinctive in humankind from time when the ancient Egyptian wrote a letlei to his lovo on a bit of hard clay with a hammer and chisel to the day of the young New Zealander who links his name with that of his true-love on a seat in Albert laiK.

Differences of opinion, as you so often see, involve the people's leaders in more or less Sue altercations. There is the classic example of Sir Philip THE CHALLENGE. Game and Mr. Lang. Coming nearer home, there is the case of the chairman ofl the Bfojpftal Board, who declares he will not be dictated to by the Mayor. In reality all government is dictation, and one feare that it will remain so It occurred to one, as one reflected on the widespread nature of verbal and written battle, that variety might be given to it. in the social revolution that is unquestionably taking place it may ultimately occur that dictators and dictatees will settle their d ilerences in the good old medieval fashion. Apprentices used to settle their little affairs with cudgels and gentlemen oftener with rapiers. Much more epeetacular, however, would it be to get a Mayor and a chairman adequately clothed in armour mounted on nrancina steeds, and, carrying lances, joust merrily"on the greensward of the Domain cricket ground. A few "By my halidoms and that sort of thing would be infinitely preferable to long verbal arguments in board or council. How exceedingly romantic it would be to bebold the chairman of a board, armed cap a pie, clank into the Town Hall council chamber, lift his steel visor with a bang, tear hie steel gauntlet from Ins hand, and throw it to the ground in challenge to the Mayor. The worst of it is, however, that in these degenerate times most people would think it was a rehearsal, for a talkie.

Here is a letter from an Englishwoman who has never been in New Zealand in her life and who has therefore never seen a noxious weed. In six or eight NOXIOUS WEED, pages of communication she doesn't mention taxes, relief work, politics or misery. Here is an extract: "We drove for miles into the New Forest (Hampshire), full ofi gorse, primroses and sweet little wild ponies." Gorse, ye gods! and very likely blackberries, ox-eye daisy, ragwort and so forth. And there sits Sir Thomas Wilford in his London lair absolutely supine as to what is going on in England in the noxious weed line. In this Englishwoman's letter there is not a single protest at the squirrels biting the trees to death in the New Forest, or a call to the gunmen to wipe out the ponies which are nibbling the grass, or a word about the necessity for wiping out the deer in Great Britain, or anything. People who imagine that an airman dropping bombs on England would be bound to hit something nuiv be interested to learn that the New Forest, where the lady saw the gorse growing, is one hundred square miles big, not including the forty-live square miles of private forest. Tt may be new to you that it was William the Conqueror who enclosed this bit of bush and that very few "improvements," such as ringbarking or burning, have taken place since. There are no 'possums to bite the oaks and beeches down. William 111. and George 111. had the forest replanted. Here arc Brockenhurst (of which New Zealand soldiers will tell you), Boldrewood, Mark Ash and Burley, some of them, particularly Brockenhurst, being mentioned in Domesday Book. Hero, too, are the King's House and the Verderers Hall and Nilfus' stone, the traditional spot whore the rod-hoaded one perished, not to speak of Beaulieu Abbey. One wonders whether they still sell good ale at Minstead and why sonie--1 body doesn't tell 'cm gorse is a noxious weed.