THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 204, 30 August 1933, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.) Tlie baby was having its birthday the first anniversary. Among those present were wee thumbsuckers of equal age, children 01 <i larger °TO\vth, and aclorTHE LONG ROAD, ing mothers. The proud father, gazing with intense interest at the wee one who had touched the first milestone, murmured: "Just think ot that —when I'm a hundred years old hell be sixty-seven!" A man who has seen jiu-jitsu on its native heath declares that although the local bouts by vouii" Japanese gentlemen from the training ship arcs undoubtedly JIU-JITSU. skilled they lack the spectacular character of some he has seen in fair Nippon. There many of the exponents are men of enormous bulk, ana these clashes of ponderous persons attract a larger crowd than wrestlers of a lesser mould would do. Formerly in Japan a large bulk was greatly admired, but owing to the pace of life Tn a commercialised country there are fewer fat people than formerly and jiu-jitsu between gentlemen with sixty-two-incli waists is uncommon. Dear M.A.T., —You infer in a recent facet that Democracy and brotherhood of the classes arc nowadays more common in the Old Country than in these new GENTLEMEN ones, and that dungarees AND PLAYERS, and plus-fours unite to a larger extent in Mayfair than in Maoriland. Still, you know, _ the Gentlemen-Players idea permeates wicket society and tlie pro-amateur status in golf is defined to the last hole. The clubhouse at the famous golf ccntre of St. Andrews is still a holy of holies, across the sacred step of which 110 pro. may show a leg. Pros, are not even allowed to sit on the steps at the eighteenth hole. Some of the very best-known Americans were sitting on these sacred steps one afternoon when Auld Andra Ivirkaldy, the veteran pro., shooed them off. "But say, honeypop, this ain't the clubhouse," up and said one of the most famous American golf pros, on earth. "A'm here tae see that ye dinna sit doon 011 these steps," said the old gent., "an' so aff ye go!" And off they went. Andra, [ understand, is raging round Great Brita-in complaining that an American insulted hiin by calling him "honey-pop." It isna done at St. Andras, ye ken. —149. The seasonal crop of physical troubles is here, and it is remarkable with what equanimity one bears the measles, the sniffs or t,he asthma of one's MEDICAL NEWS, fellow man—even to the point of facetiousness. The cut finger of the complainant at home is a far larger hurt than the cut throat of a gentleman in Arabia. And speaking of _ the children of Islam, words as well as medicine count much for the cure of complaints. You have 110 doubt heard of the well-known cure for bullet wounds ? The physician merely tears a leaf from the Koran, masticates it slightly, thrusts it into the wound, and advises the patient to get well. It isn't the physicians wound, you see, and he bears it wonderfully. Other cases where the physician is more economical of the spoken word occur in the East, where the prayer-wheel theory has persisted for so many hundreds of years. The lad with the flu sniffs his way to the parson-physician, who is armed with his rotary literature. The physician rolls off a few yards of sacrfed writing without saying a word, dismisses the patient with a wave of his hand—the patient becoming perfectly well —sez you. The ancient stick play "kendo" of the Japanese exhibited in Auckland by the gentlemen of Shintoku Maru is reminiscent —barring the complete armour —of " OUT THE the old English play with 'PRENTICES!" the quarterstaff —the difference being that the old English staff had no guards and was used end for end, the sticks being held in the centre. Our hardy ancestors, it is feared, used to go in for this kind of thing practically uncovered, and many a bare pate has been well and duly cracked to the applause of the revellers on the village green. Recalls, too, the earlier days when football was infrequent and lads had to have some kind of innocent pastime. Thus guilds of apprentices, armed with cudgels, used to roam afield, cracking each other on the nut as occasion demanded; or the general body of citizens if necessary. It was, of course, a lower-class gesture. Gentlemen went armed with a yard and a half of steel. Apprentices were jealous, and being forbidden swords or "hangers," daggers and what not, they, of course, had to carry something—and cudgels were cheap and nasty. After all, the gentlemen won, for when street swords went out of fashion the swells who discarded rapiers carried walking sticks, many with a sword concealed within. The apprentices' cudgels were collected and burnt —and so the poor lads had none. The cudgels of earlier British lads have often been the turning point in a class scuffle. Many apprentices with cracked pates were the forefathers of our commercial captains —hardheaded chaps. All cities, towns and villages have their proud distinctions. Within bomb drop of Ruawai (Northern Wairoa) there is a village from which there emerged WAIROA recently a gentleman who MASSACRE? wanted to see the hail in Auckland. He said that in his village there is but one church, held on successive Sundays by clergymen of varied denominations —they arc all in fraternal agreement —the. message being the same. One clergyman reluctantly admitted that although his congregation was composed of admirable citizens thev were not as attentive as they might be. A clergyman of another denomination said lie had many excellent friends among his particular following in the village, but they, didn't seem to him to be absorbed in his message. The third clergyman bluntly declared that his hearers simply fidgeted. Their eyes were on the ceiling, the floor or any other place than on his lectern, their ears not attuned to his sermon. Scraping of feet was common. Some of the congregation appeared unable to bear it any longer, left the building and stayed outside. All three clergymen had to admit that they themselves after work in that church felt a physical irritation almost unbearable. The visitor from the district explains this seeming inattention —the fleas of the district are the most numerous, the most fcrocious, the hungriest samples of Pulex irritans known to naturalists. They seem to be bred in the ground and rise seeking whom they may devour in dwelling, school, hall or church. The exuberance of this intruder has nothing to do with unhygienic habits —the people are notably hygienic, pious, gentle, virtuous, kindly. • The visitor thinks that if the whole countryside was top-dressed with insecticide the visiting clergy would note fewer examples of inattention in their several congregations. THOUGHTS FOR TO-DAY. It is far easier to give than to give back. Justice is much more difficult than generosity. —John Ayscough. He that wrestles with us strengthens our nerves and sharpens our skill. Our ant-agonist is our helper.—Burke. The honest heart that's free frae a' Intended fraud or guile, However fortune kick the ba', Has aye some cause to smile. —Robert Burns.