THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 123, 26 May 1932, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.) Three hearty cheers for the Christchurch clergyman who told his audience there aio so many silly asees about who think.that those who profess religion SHEEP must lie saints." It recalls AND GOATS, soineliow the innumerable cases in which the most blasphemous have been veritable saints, lor instance, when there is firedamp in the « o"the wall has fallen in ami. impnsoned men, or there is a smashed-up bushman to b a ried twenty miles through bush to when the ship is sinking and it b * ««» « abandon ship for lifeboat*, when, nabort, retcuer says "Damn!" or "Bless!" and there lee me to bl no doubt that when the rescuer is mustered for final selection the selectors won t him by his language. There are those ffi cXmJlating the ultimate separation of the sheep from the goats, would be glad.to have some of the wicked old rescue goats mixed in the mob. • A fellow nib of Melbourne mentions that the box plan for a coinedyf™» opened at the vicara^ s^hinch, OVER THE STYX. d % •has written the Book of Job in terms of the modern drama, and calls his play Jo.) and ob" The world has had many miracle and pUsion plays based on the Bible, including the most fan.Jus periodical one at OberanineV.au Even in New Zealand we have had present on the occasion when unintentional comedy was introduced. Everyman in_tue JeTson of Julius, was shown in the final tab eau on the stage above a trap door. The idea was that this was the last appearance, on earth of the man, and he was seen slowly descending into the grave. On the occasion the instant Mr. Knight disappeared amid the absolute silence of the audience, there was the sound of a cork popping oil. me strunUp audience relaxed, and screamed with faughtcr. Everyman was being welcomed ot the far bank of the Styx with liquid refreshment.

There is a bleak and immense Sahara near the summit of the Chief Post Office attainable by passenger lift, a lift by the way, that has * F lately been highly « n ' THTT TOP FLAT, popular, but extremely 1 Crowded. Even "newpoor" M.P.'a have been observed in that lift clutching documents in re unemployment tax and searching frantically for shillings "> trouser pockets. Arrived at the desert, which, one feelfl, might have been used to house the Parcel Department (now stored away in Albeit Street up a hill), one sees a mirage of deputyBedouins on the skyline sedulously occupied in raking in the tinkling brass, making triplications for the benefit of the printing trade and the Commissioner of Taxes. The great pub he, including M.L.C.'s and merchants, wander lonely as stars over the immense space between ho Bedouins at the counters and the Hit in the rear It is fair to say that except for a trembling lady here and there, the public in •bins Sahara take what is coming to them (or .robin- from them) with distinct good humour, most of them having computed the damage before coming to the Sahara and being ready with the exact amount. It is interesting to watch the variety in expression on the faces of the persons being stung. Sonic do it with a smile, as of one who, having millions, can well afford it. Others proffer their money with a facial groan. The Bedouins (who themselves are liable for tax) are so busy that they never look at a taxpayer, but merely at his papers. It cheers the wanderer on that immense plain to note that people he knows are also there, that the impost is for him who has five pounds on fixed deposit and him on whom thousands are rained from sources other than wages. Taxpayers, having done their duty and having said "Good-bye" to their silver, may be seen wandering back over desert wastes looking for the lift, hoping to reach Queen Street, where the air at least is free. You'd hardly expect to find good comedydrama in the "Mercantile Gazette," yet the story ofl a comb is all that. An elderly gentleman with grey hair looked into THE COMB. the window of a London shop where there was a sample of a comb, the function of which was to restore grey hair. At the foot of the card announcing this boon there appeared the words "Guarantee £500." Elderly gentleman asked shopkeeper if the comb would really restore the pristine pigment of his locks. Shopman said he didn't know. Gentleman bought a comb. But "whether the pigment cells had died twenty years before," or whether gentleman's "head was unsuitable ground for the experiment," his grey hair remained grey. A lawyer told gentleman the manufacturer was liable to pay five hundred pounds, damage. Gentleman sued. Manufacturer held that the words "Guarantee £500" didn't mean that he would pay that sum if the comb failed, but the judge held that is exactly what was meant and found for plaintiff. It appears that one hundred thousand people presumably with grey hair which they desired shall return to its pristine hue had bought those combs, but that only thie one gentleman had objected. The point for the comb makers is that ifl nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine buyers of combs each sue the manufacturer for five hundred pounds and succeed, the comb maker will want about fifty million pounds to settle the little matter.

As a sequel to a painful reference herein to home-grown tobacco, its flavour and aroma, a light shower of home-grown or home-manu-factured tobacco has THE SMOKER, fallen on M.A.T. These range from a dank, dark plug, redolent of molasses, to a baking powder tin of desiccated leaf that looks like flakes of the good, coavso gold the fossicker loves so well. It has been the pride of the receiver to award pipe lots to daring smokers, to watch the effect and to revel in the perfume. Some have exhibited a valiance wholly praiseworthy and not a single one has up to the moment sought sanctuary in the casualty ward. Introducing tho Westfleld blend to an habitual smoker, who, by the way lived on the famous Honeysuckle brand of cigarettes during four years' bloody war, he reverted to the days of his youth when he was a barefaced pupil in the seminary of My Lady Nicotine. He recalls moniciite of ecstasy in Scotland when little )ads were able for twopence to buy a miniature pipe and a bag of "iShillogie." He says that the "tobacco" was such a good imitation of dock seed that he really believes it may have been. He has boon magnificently sick on a pipeful many a time. He further avers that the cigarettes on which himself and juvenile friends trained their palates were '"Lucky Stars," which were sold in packets of two, the whole outfit costing a halfpenny. Jealous of these Scottish tobacconalian illnesses, M.A.T. himself boasted of the splendid days when he with other budding Barrios smoked brown cigarettes called "Vevy Fins" (one penny), climbed tall trees, and, sitting in a fork, became so ill as to be almost incapable of descending to earth. West Country lads, too, used to achieve nice headaches with "honesty," a flowering tree that grows in hedges. It tastes as much like tobacco as cheese tastes like roast beef.