PERSONALITY OF THE WEEK.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 287, 3 December 1932, Page 8

PERSONALITY OF THE WEEK.

Dudley, in Worcestershire, is a jolly nice •town to be born in, with which fifty thousand townsmen, including Mr. Archibald Joseph Charles Fisher will agree. NO. 367. There's a castle there begun by Dodo, a Saxon prince, in the eighth century. Mr. Fisher, who is director of the School of Art in Rutland Street, remembers it no further back than thirty-six years. The Worcester Regiment is famous, too. He served with it in the Great War and drafted to the R.A.F. and saw the war in the clouds. Mr. Fisher received his art training at the Birmingham School of Art, the Royal College of Art, the Slade School and with Leon Underwood. The great Augustus John advised" him to go to London, and ho went, and, being recommended for his present post by Sir Bertram Mackennal, the famous Australian, and Sir William Rothenstein, "he happily came to Elam.

Dear M.A.T., —The recent by-election, full of bitter crossfire, recalls the fact that political contests nowadays are entirely devoid of liumour. In the old days LITTLE DOUBT, political humour at election time was always looked for, and, in a degree, always entered into the speeches of candidates. In the days of McNab, he was opposed by a rather. clever political adventurer—a "Jingle" of the period, who, although a man of straw, was an orator, but, alas! unscrupulous in marshalling his facts and prepared to promise anything. He was at question time interrogated by a brawny Scot as to "whether it was a fact that McNab told lies." "If you have any doubts about Mr. McNab's veracity," said the candidate, "vote for me, and you will be on safe ground." "Dinna fash yoursel'," said the Caledonian. "I always knew you were a d liar. I just had ma doobts aboot McNab!"—H.M. Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings cometh forth wisdom, and although you may cackle at the local school child who recently wrote in a composition AN OLD BOOKIE, that "William Caxton was the first man in England to start business as a bookmaker," the young scholar offered a good double. The late lamented bookmaker did not, one fears, like some of his modern brethren, buy rows of suburban houses by making books, although a book he made in 1476 or so turned in a divvy of £1950 a few years ago. The name of this winner was "Chesse," not now included in Ruff's "Turf Guide." Old Bill the bookmaker of 1421 and onward set up his bookestablishment against great odds near Westminster Abbey, and although the local police smelled some nefarious plot—bookmakers not being licensed in those days, either —he escaped raids and was never sent to gaol. The police might well have been suspicious, as William printed all the books in black letter—and only about one per cent of the people could read, let alone pick winners. In all, Bill and his offsider, young Wynkyn de Worde, made ninety-nine books, and anyone who liajjpens to have one could get a jolly good div. out of it yet. A fox terrier whose residence is off the Great North Road, interviewed lately, intimated that he perfectly- agrees with his human friends who declare the THE BLUE Alsatian is a ferocious ALSATIAN, animal. It seems that the terrier had merely bounded out from behind a hedge to sample a passing trouser leg. He almost cannoned into the local Alsatian, a gentleman who stands about thirteen hands. It occurred to the terrier to refrain from sampling trouserings and to try Alsatian for a change. He therefore snapped at the large dog's leg. The Alsatian looked around, but not seeing his own, his only man, gently rolled the terrier over, placing a massive paw on him, holding him down for a moment, and gazing thoughtfuily at him. Then he gave him a slight push with his nose, removed his paw, and told the terrier to get back to liis trousers. It was a lesson in self-control. Dear M.A.T., —Your recent paragraph about the lack of any memorial to Costley at the Auckland Infirmary reminds me that I have been asked by a WHO KNOWS? resident there to try to find out who Ann Gamble and Robert Godard were. In one of the smaller buildings at the infirmary there is a tablet with an inscription on it to the effect that it was erected with money bequeathed by these two, but nobody there seems to know anything about them. Can any of your readers satisfy my friend's curiosity?—M.A. THOUGHTS FOR TO-DAY. Stand firm and immovable as an anvil when it is beaten upon.—lgnatius. 'Tis an old maxim in the schools— That flattery is the food of fools; Yet now and then, your men of wit Will condescend to take a bit. —Dean Swift. Cheerfulness is the best promoter of health, and as friendly to the mind as to the body.—Addison. i 1