THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 80, 5 April 1933, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.)

Not too late to mention that beloved and remarkable journalist,. James Edmond, a, noted editor of the "Bulletin," and almost as well remembered as Archibald THE DEPUTIES, himself. For some years the illustrious James and M.A.T. swapped scribbles in spare moments, for James, who worked like a galley slave, found time to write copious, amusing and treasured letters. He used to visit New Zealand once a year, if possible. M.A.T. had never seen him until he telephoned from his hotel. Would M.A.T. breeze along and have a yarn? The scribe breezed. In the hall of the hotel, barring a man servant, there was a modest clerical-looking man wearing spectacles and whiskers. "I wonder, sir," said M.A.T., approaching the clergyman, "if you can tell me where I can find Mr. Edmond, editor of the 'Bulletin'?" The "clergyman" cackled delightedly. "That's me!" said he. Then James mentioned that on several occasions he had stayed in wayback Australian hotels—and had frequently met "the editor of the 'Bulletin'," usually not too sober and frequently desiring temporary financial accommodation. Lesser literary lights have had similar experiences.

Accidental entry into air obscure room disclosed a gardening expert, surrounded by tho trophies of his art, engaged in replying to correspondents who

THE wish to know the name CAULIFLOWER, of the enclosed bug and why the delphinium herewith is turning up its toes, and if "Gardenia" thinks diluted rain water can be administered to chrysanthemums without danger. The fragrance of embalmed leaves, deceased aphis, tired-looking lepidopterae and an agonised specimen of grape fruit, reminded a bystander of the Fiji cauliflower. Some years ago an ardent gardener in "the Islands" produced for the first time locally a cauliflower. Proud of his triumph, he showed it to all hands, and even invaded the official quarters purring gladly. Among those present was a Fijian orderly, a stalwart darkie of the best type. An officer showed the Fijian this strange product of the earth. He had never seen such a thing before. He staggered visibly. The officer invited him to take th& cauliflower in his hands. The native shuddered and refused blankly to touch the terrible thing. His upright hair quivered in terror, Wis lips trembled, his eyes protruded like bumps on an M.L;C.'s head. With a shriek he bounded for the door to escape the fearful sight—and as he reached the door he fell fainting. Sjnce those days, however, Fijians even eat cauliflowers.

"G.H.L.," having read the story herein of the attack by tree leeches on Dr. Torrance's party in Sumatra, retells the tale of the English gamekeeper and his BLOOD PRESSURE, wife. Phlebotomy being indicated, the village doctor ordered the wife to apply "two good strong leeches to his temples," and lent her a couple. Next day he called and found the patient worse. "Did you apply those leeches?" he asked the woman. "What's the good of a couple of silly little slugs to a big, strong man like Bill 1" she said. "I threw them away and set a couple of ferrets on to him." Australians, by the way, suffering from high blood pressure may reduce the same by wading through any of the billabongs, sluggish cheeks or backwaters of the great Australian rivers. The lecches—fine, fat, green leeches—will instantly hail his legs as friends and suck them lovingly. Trained Australians squeeze the necks of these adhesive little beasts and choke them off, but as a leech has hosts of brothers of a clinging nature, waders of the creeks have a busy time between banks. In plilebotomonic days barbers (that is the men who bled patients with a barb and cut hair for a living) could make ah excellent living with a bottleful of leeches, a lancet, comb, scissors, soap and razor. Doctors and barbers did all the bleeding in those days. Nowadays Governments have the monopoly.

Lord Bledisloe, of New Zealand (and Gloucestershire), in his nice way has given Hammond, the wonder batsman, a silver cigarette case commeniorTHE CIGARETTE ating his recent great batCASE. ting feat. One toys with the notion of an appreciative Gloucestrian awarding that other great Gloucester cricketer, "W.G.," a cigarette case. The old giajit was "bearded like the pard," and watching him pounding the ball one often wondered in a small boyish way how on earth the great man could see the ball through the undergrowth. He couldn't possibly have smoked a cigarette with that beard. Even his smaller brother, "E.M.," who used to bowl underhand, was bearded—and didn't smoke cigarettes. Whiskers, even in Grace's day, were not abundant on the countenances of cricketers, and Gilbert Jcssop himself, unlike his ponderous father, was a bare-faced youth and therefore available for cigarettes. Those were the days when cigarettes were taboo to small boys, and so Gilbert (who never became a gTeat smoker) would with other boys escape to the Cotswolds (Cleeve Hill, where the Devil's Chimney and the Three Sisters are), and there "roll their own" and have a devil of a time, returning to town a pleasant shade of green. There was a rather diabolical brown cigarette sold for a ha-penny in Cheltenham. When Gilbert (and others) were in funds they had many pleasant illnesses together. Mr. J. Keilly, formerly of the 41st Regiment, writes asking what troops received the military decoration after the South African War (1899-1902) known AN OLD SIEGE, as the "Kimbcrley Star," and whether it was awarded to the armed defenders of the besieged city alone or "to certain officers of the relieving forces" as well. The Star "was awarded only to the armed men of the forces within the besieged area, which is to say that if anybody else possesses such a decoration he has obviously obtained it from one of the relatively small body of men under the late Colonel Kekevvich. It is recalled that Queensland and New Zealand troops were the first of the relieving troops to enter Kimberley, whereof an excellent and true story is told. A New Zealand trumpeter claims the honour of being the first man in, and as Slim Piet was plastering the scenery with shells the trumpeter is proud of it. Long afterwards the trumpeter was detailed temporarily for post office duty in Pretoria or thereabouts. He was, in fact, in charge of the military telephone, and one day a field officer entered and said he wished to use the 'phone. Among other things, the officer said through the telephone was, "Is that Watervaal? This is Kekewicli," and conversed with the person on the other end of the line. Having hung up, Colonel Kekewicli turned to go. The trumpeter saluted and said, "Are you Colonel Kekewich?" "That is my name," replied the defender of the diamonds. "Glad to meet you!" said the trumpeter. "My name is Blank; I helped to relieve Kimberley." Colonel Kekewich» grasped the trumpeter warmly by the hand. "Thank you ever so much," he said.

THOUGHTS FOR TO-DAY.

If men would permit their minds, like their children, to associate freely together—if they could agree to meet one another with smiles and frankness, instead, of suspicion and defiance —the common stock of wisdom and happiness would be centupled.—Landor. There exists ?n human nature a strong propensity to depreciate the advantages, and to magnify the evils, of the present times. — Gibbon.