THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 85, 11 April 1933, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.)

HAMMOND—EGGS! A contemporary quotes "Punch's" poet's efforts anent the great Hobbs:

Can nothing be done for J. B. Hotohs To make him go out some time for blobs ?

"It is a neat and pretty poetic fancy," continue* the paper, "but try to substitute W. R. Hammond, and where are you? Well, M.A.1., here's luck:

It seems when figures are examined The laurels are -with Mister Hammond. The prize for bowling also goes With honours to the wily Bowes f'Tis said in point of merit he .Should share the Crown with Verity). Tho* critics, ever lofty handed. Deplore New Zealand's cricket standard, The hardest one I think exempts a Man who plays like Mister Dempster. In fact, to give him full reward he Rivals even their Pataudi. is.v—u.

Aliened humorists who smash fire alarms, rin« up "doctors and send them galloping .to non-existent patients are the fleas on the body politic and a nuisance WRONG NUMBER, that never ceases until the humorists are in _ a mental hospital. The genuine telephone mistake, however, sometimes has a humorous side For instance, in a large provincial town of the South an exceedingly harried man was dashin"- into his accumulation of work when the telephone rang. A business-like female voice called, "This is Mrs. Brown; will you send up twelve pounds of rump steak, a torequarter of mutton, six pounds of sausages and about ten pounds of tripe?" The harried worker bellowed rudely, "No, I will not. Why. annrily asked the proprietress of the local boardinghouse. And the harried worker wearily replied, this is the Daily News' —we don't keep it.'

Public performers ought not to have relatives in the audience, for relatives are o-enerally much more nervous for the performer than is the perAGONY FOR former for' himself. One AUDIENCES, remembers many instances of this. For instance, there is a small boy soprano who has made good who used to sing at little local things until lie went away to a larger world, with bigger halls. His numerous brothers and sisters would occasionally sit in the audience, pale, fidgety and with downcast eyes for fear" little Alec would break down and make a hash of it. Little Alec never did break down. One remembers the case of Sir Douglas Mawson, the intrepid and apparently nerveless Australian, who came to Auckland among other places and lectured with appropriate films. Lady Mawson sat in the audience, and so nervous was she at the perfectly unnecessary thought that Douglas would break down that she herself broke down and, with a friend, retired. This perfectly natural family feeling —a desire that the genius of the family shall do his best—is shared on occasions by the general public. What man and woman lias not at some time listened to the meaningless drip, drip of a political speech and felt almost sorry to tears and ashamed for the performer, at a moment, too, when the performer is kidding himself that Demosthenes as an orator was merely among the also started?

Dear M.A.T., —In some interesting recollections of boxing published in your column you are slightly at fault. The writer was in error when he said that SOME FIGHTS. Bob Fitzsimmons and Billy Murphy were the only New Zealand world champions. Danny Creedon, an Invercargill-born boy, held the middle-weight championship of the world, just prior, I think, to Torpedo beating Spider Weir for the light-weight crown. I cannot, for the moment recall who took the title from Dan, but he made several attempts to come back. He challenged Bob Fitzsimmons for it when Bob held it, but Bob beat him in eight rounds. Torpedo Murphy was the only New Zealander to bring a world's title back to his own country, though both Bob and Danny returned to it. Dan Creedon was considered the best stylist and most graceful boxer (not excluding Jim Corbett) that the States ever saw. The last time I heard of Dan he was boxing instructor at the Otago University. Griffo was a boxing freak. His senses so co-ordinated that it was impossible for anyone to land a solid blow upon him. No boxer was ever known to do so. When he fought Kid Lavinge just after the latter's return from his triumphant tour of England, where he beat pointless the hitherto unbeatable Jim Burge, Griffo had a "bay window" on him bigger than Fatty Arbuckle ever boasted, yet Kid Lavinge was very pleased to get a draw with him. From the day he left Foley's hands Griffo was never more than half trained; usually went into the ring half drunk. It was notorious in the States that he had no punch, but he certainly had when he took the title away from Torpedo, because Billy complained during the fight that Griffo had a weight in his glove and made the referee remove the glove and examine it. Perhaps lack of training cost Griffo his kick.— Wanganui,

Dear M.A.T., —The par in the "Star" re the closing of the Okarito gaol recalls the fact that the zone was at one time a famous goldfield. In the days of EAST AND WEST. "The Golden Legion" there •was in the vicinity of Okarito a strange partnership. A Scotsman ("Billy" McCue) and a Chinaman (Ah Hong) worked as partners in the same mine and lived in the same hut. The partnership worked harmoniously. The Caledonian had ong_ grievance. He told the miners: "I hae a braw mate, but I canna get him to cut off his pigtail." Ah Hong protested that the loss of his queue would debar him from re-entering his native land. Both men were partial to the cup that inebriates, and freely patronised the nearest bush shanty. One day the Caledonian returned home to find that his partner had had a drop too much. He found him asleep on the wood pile in the backyard. Seizing the opportunity, "Billy" f took his axe and, using a piece of wood as a chopping block, severed the precious pigtail close to its roots. When the Celestial awoke his wrath knew no bounds. Seizing the axe, he chased hi* mate out of the hut and down the road. Several miners interfered, and a reconciliation was effected. It was a long time, however, before Aih Hong fully forgave this outrage. His partner consoled him with: "Dinna fash yersel'. Mon, ye're much better wi'oot it." One day a raw Irishman (just out) went south from Hokitika prospecting. He called on "Billy," who gave him a generous meal. "Gie me a call when coming back," said "Billy," and the Irishman said he would. The Hibernian on returning called at the hut (knowing nothing, of course, of the partnership). "Billy" was out, and the caller was received by the Chinaman, who started to prepare his visitor some food. In response to his guest's queries Ah Hong said that the hut was his and he had lived in it for years. This uncanny transformation was too much for the Irishman, who took his swag and hurriedly departed, and made for Hinde's Ferry. Here he told the people: "Be jabers, the divil's in it—or I'm seeing things. A raw Scotchman gave me a meal going down, and when I returned I called on him, and, bedad, he had changed into a Chinniman! This is no place for me!" And so he made a bee line north for civilisation. The partnership was not broken until the death of "Billy," who was nursed by the Chinaman in his last illness. The Caledonian showed his gratitude by leaving his strange partner Ms all—£3oo.—H.M.