THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 81, 6 April 1933, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.)

"Jock," who served with the Seaforth Highlanders for twenty-one years, is keenly reminded of the old regiment by the cabled news of the young officer THE SEAFORTHS. under arrest in the Tower of London for alleged breaches of the Official Secrets Act. Jock says that of all the Highland' regiments the &eaforths are the proudest. They were formed officially in 1778 by Kenneth Mackenzie, Karl of Seaforth. The first regiment had ten Mackenzics serving as officers, besides two Irasers and a Macrae, names inseparable from the Mackenzie clan. Unlike many of the Scottish regiments, the Seaforths recruit* almost solely from the Highlands, and when they meet Irish or English regiments headquarters shriek for interpreters. There are more Scottish names among the officers than in any other regiment in the service.

A posthumous decoration has been awarded to the late Reginald Montague Grey, of Becliuanaland, who tried to save the life of a friend by pulling a lion BIG GAME, off him with his hands. Reminds one that when a lion is disturbed he is likely to be a nasty old cat; and of the historic story of Oora Paul Kruger, who was president of the Transvaal when the 1890-1902 war was 011. Paul was twenty-one years old at the time of his lion hunt. He was mooning about the veldt alone 011 his pony looking for buck when he came across the spoor of a lion and followed it. He found the lion in a kloof, and, taking a sight on him from the back of the pony, he found to his horror that the rifle jammed. The lion charged, bowling the pony over. Young Kriifjer scrambled clear, and, having nothing but his hands to fight with, actually wrestled with the beast, and although badly clawed, put the fear of death into him. He must have been an active sort of young fellow, for he beat the lion by knifing him and then bashed out his brains with a rock.

The three men drifted into talk about their schooldays—and their old schoolmasters. The exceedingly tall man with the blackrimmed spectacles (one BESETTING SINS, ear-piece missing) boasted of the piety and other excellencies of his dear old dominie —a cleric of great learning. Church in this school was compulsory, and the dear old man prepared the boys himself for the confirmatory rites. The "head" inhabited a small and pestilent room in -which he sat poisoning the all-to-infrequent air with tobacco of the deepest dye. On a certain day he interviewed all the candidates for confirmation seriatim in this dreadful den. The boys knew the formula, for the head always asked each successive boy the same questions. As each boy came in he would thrust his face forward and bellow, "Well, what is your besetting sin?" Twenty boys, separately interviewed in this way, replied, "Smoking, sir." "And what did the head do?" asked the other two men. "He knocked off smoking a pipe and took to smoking Indian cheroots," said the tall man with the wounded specs.

"Patsy" writes on patronymics, inquiring anxiously why so many Clarkes are affectionately called "Nobby" by their intimates, and so many Taylors " NOBBY." rejoice in the nickname

of "Scratch." Owners of the respected name of Carr, lie declares, "are invariably 'Slip'." He knows several Messrs. Brooks who rejoice in the pseudonym of "Monkey,"*not, of course, because the members of this unusually handsome family resemble the simian, but because of a rather well-known soap advertisement. There are platoons of "Ta.ssie" v Morgans, battalions of "Massa" Johnsons, and army corps of "Spud" Murphies. M.A..T. has unhappily no intimate knowledge of these derivations, but it is obvious that when a series of Jacksons are lovingly referred to as "Stonewall" or "Stoney" it is in complimentary reference to the late American general, and possibly some kind of compliment is intended in the case of some bygone Clarke who forced his name upon his generation by some act or peculiarity. The reasons for "Scratch" and "Slip" are beyond speculation, but undoubtedly some remote Taylor or Carr distinguished themselves in some notable way and the distinction has been handed down by an admiring public.

Dear M.A.T., —I read your entertaining par on James Edmond, which recalls one of his famous "Bulletin" stories. It was at the

time when two men, one DEAD OR ALIVE? of them Victor J. Daley,

were contributing their brilliant verse and prose to the columns of the red-covered weekly. Like many of their type, they never had any money, and their accounts at the "Bulletin" were considerably overdrawn. One day in a "pub" they met and devised a ruse for extracting from the editorial department a sum of money. It was arranged that Victor was to "die" and the other was to announce his "death" to the "Bulletin" editor and ask for a monetary loan for burial expenses. They celebrated the proposed financial coup d'etat with so many cups that they became confused as to which was to die or live. However, one sought the editor, and with weeping eyes told him: "Poor Victor's gone. I saw him die. He had a happy death. He hadn't a penny. How are we going to bury him ?" The editor generously gave Harold two pounds. Weeping and bemoaning, he went down the stairs disconsolate at the loss of his beloved confrere. Daley, who confusedly thought it was Harold who was to die, some few hours afterwards, to the amazement of the editor, hurst into the sanctum with: "Poor Harold's gone. I was with ." But he didn't get any further. The amazed editor ejected him.—H.M.

Mr. W. H. Hemingway, addressing local accountants, indicated that it is not the AngloSaxon alone who specialises in figurative accuracy, wandering momTHE YELLOW entarily from the beaten TELLER, track to tell of the bank teller of Siam—where the white elephants do dwell—and where money is money, too. A business man handing up his day's takings at a Bangkok bank found the teller as usual attired in his loin cloth, but otherwise "altogether," efficiently sitting at the receipt of custom. In the rear at easy distance was an assistant linked to the counter by a silver chain. The teller, with remarkable rapidity, counted currency both in notes and coin. At intervals he stopped at a coin and nonchalantly handed it to the monkey on the silver chain. The simian gentleman took it in his hand and bit it well and truly, handing it back to the gent, in the one-piece garment. If there were toothmarks on that coin the teller rejected it definitely without explanation, and made the necessary alteration in the slip. Reminds one rather of Crosbie Garstin's mention of the gambling house in Macao, China. This place had every comfort according to Celestial taste, and little baskets stuffed with notes and coin flew constantly from floor to floor. The gamesters were mostly Chinese—the finest gamblers on earth. Down below, shorn as to head, cigarette ends drooping_ listlessly from lips, their yellow bodies stripped to the waist, the croupiers dealt smoothly and swiftly with five different currencies and fifty separate transactions at once. Garstin remarks: "To me, to whom any calculation above ten involves ,! the removal of my boots, and the calling of my toes to the aid of my fingers, the spectacle appeared little short of miraculous."