THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 98, 28 April 1933, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.) A -roup of old soldiers on Anzac Day found time during the muster to mention the inspirational effect of march band music, and it was agreed that -Lne SAVANNAH. British Grenadiers" was the best-known quickstep and one of the best marches in the long category of soldier music. Is one of the old fellows knew that the song was first sung in a pantomime, "Harlequin Everywhere a Covent Garden on January 17, 1780, by a man named Reinliold a month after the publi cation of a dispatch extolling the braveiy of the 60th Grenadiers. The supposition genle ally is that the Grenadiers mentioned m the son"- are the Grenadier Guards, when as a matter of fact, the reference was to grenadier company—the men who heaved the n-renades—of the Sixtieth Royal American Regiment (now the King's Royal Rifle Corps) in the action at Savannah (Georgia) October, 1779. The Grenadier Guards pinched the march. It is comforting to learn that despite the buffalo of Banghaing, Mrs. Bonney, the Australian airlady, is safe in Rangoon _ or- elsewhere in the vicinity, it SACRED BULL, appears from cabied information that Mrs. Bonney's crash was due to her regard for native susceptibilities, as a heavy storm compelled her to land on a beach as a buffalo was cioSs in- her path. "Thinking the animal might be a sacred one," the lady endeavoured to avoid it. You are therefore to presume that it Mrs. Bonney had not thought the interfering animal to be a sacred one she wouldn t have tried t avoid it and would have crashed into it, just as an ordinary motorist might run over rabbit. Reading between the lines, however one feels that any airwoman would, should even an ordinary everyday unsacred beef bullock cross her path on the Banghaing (o other) Beach, have swerved just as if " had been a sacred cow or a white elephant, btm, the colour of piety does serve to illuminate the cables. Dear M.A.T.,—The following gems are original .and from children. Elsie, aged : "How would you rather die, daddy? Would ..you like' to be shot or THE CHILD MIND, drownded? I'd rather be snot, 'cos it's quicker, wouldn't you? What would you?'' Dad; "Well, I haven't been shot or drownded, Elsie, I couldn't say." Elsie: "Well, I'd rather be shot, 'cos it wouldn't hurt." Turns to brother, a dunce, aged five. "What would you rather be Owen?" Owen: "Oh, I'd rather be shot, too," shortly. Curiously, "Why would you rather be shot?" Owen: "So s I wouldn t have to go to school." Lena, aged nine, desires to attend the health camp, and is reminded by inother it will be necessary to daily say prayers in such a case, and mother asks Lena, ocularly, "But surely you know the Lords Prayer, Lena? You know it 7 Ltmfi (hastily frowning): "Oh, I know; isn t that where it says trespassers will be prosecuted, mummy? Poof, I know that. —Constant Reader. The two friends had finished their day's work . X , who had to call at the grocer s for some provisions, mentioned it to \ , and said he would meet THE AROMA. him at the Better Times Hotel and they'd have a three-per-cent ale before turning suburbanwards. So they went to that hotel. Immediately they were in the bar Y — evinced abhorrence and pinched his nose. "An unpleasant aroma," he said. "We will go somewhere else." They departed. They went to the Rooster and Ragwort on the corner, and had almost called for their three-per-cent when X said, "My word! The odour is here, too —let's go to the Eclipse and Carbine, in Kin<» Street." It is history that the same scent pervaded the place, but they drank their three-per-cent and caught a tram. The people in the tram were ill at ease and shuffled about. X and Y were equally disturbed. "Blowed if it hasn't followed us here!" they chorused. At the terminus the twain parted. X hurried homo with his groccry parcel, and ultimately sat down to the evening meal with his family. "My word!" said the eldest son; "what a smell! 5 ' X looked pained. "There's been a smell following me about ever since I left the office. Wonder what it can be?" Mrs. X appeared with the parcel her husband had brought home. "What kind of cheese did you say this was, my dear?" Recent reference was made herein to the number of telephonists who get a wrong number in their heads and startle innocent subscribers. The case of the RING OFF I person who rang up one of the busiest doctors in Auckland and offered him a job at two shillings a half day to weed the garden is not unknown. There is a suburban fruit grower whom some persistent ringer-up appears to believe is a jockey, for the voice day by day and week by week gives much equine news, and, indeed, 'imparts secrets whicli are no use at all to the pious family which hears them. Robert Lynd, tho exceedingly busy writer, notes the wrong number, too: "The only person with whom I ever really sympathised as an infuriated receiver of wrong calls was a vicar's wife whose number resembled of a famous bookmaker. Never, in the pre-dial-ling days, <lid an afternoon pass without her heing called to the telephone several times to bo asked in a husky voice to put two-and-six each way on some horse or other. She had always looked on betting as wicked, but her hatred of it now became venomous. How often have I seen her at the 'phone pale with fury as she shrieked: 'No, 1 am not Billie Bone.s!' 'No, I will not put two-and-six each Way on Sauce for the Goose!' 'No, I will not put a five-shilling double 011 Early to Bed and Baby's Breakfast. Go away, you horrid man, and spend more of your money on your baby and less on tho bookmakers!'" It has been said herein a time or two that associations of old soldiers have their greatest uses in keeping up friendships made during 1914-18. Friendships are THE more than national. Many BROTHERHOOD. New Zealand families having old soldier members communicate regularly with Belgian and even German families. One has letters here from a Belgian man and his wife to an Auckland soldier and his' family, the latest of a correspondence of many years. The man's letter is in excellent if quaint English—and the handwriting! would shame most of 11s: "In this miserous time we must work hard if we wishes to keep things going. I see that the situation over there is quite unchanged. Let's as we did during the war, 'A I'ouest rien de nouveau.' The world motor is waste, till now there is not a country who has found a mechanicien able to repair the machine. What a big joke this 'Societe des nations.' In fact you are right, Tack up your troubles in your old kid bag and smile.' I try to do it but it is awfully difficult. For us it is different. We have lose about de 3 of our money. Goods (silk hoses) are sold everywhere by the way of competition, standardised productions, failures are sold for nothing. What was fashionable and bearable some months ago is catalogued to-day by antiquities. It is impossible to a particulier who is not rich to become a personality. Class of self made man is gone. All the power, all the money in Belgium as well as abroad is concentrated through hands of banks, trusts and other ruffians. Our Parliament instead of protected our trade and industry by judicious laws gives the spectacle of a lot of worthless fellows just being able to make noice and declaim stupids and soporifics speeches. In your marvellous country," etc.