THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 247, 19 October 1933, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOv7N.) The ex-sergeant, speaking of justice at a local hilarity, recalled the Mounted Rifles camp at Zeitoun and the varicoloured cosniopolity of the camp folA PAIR OF lowers . who snooped "MASSEYS." around and sometimes had a win. A dark gentleman ambling about with his eyes peeled spotted a pair of Massey boots exceedingly well worn, and, pining for them, took them and departed. It was very necessary to make examples of these purloiners, so the sergeant put the thief in arrest—and the civil police did the rest. The incident faded from the mind of the sergeant, until he met an Arab French interpreter, who had given- evidence against the boot purloiner in court. The sergeant asked him how the thief had got on. '•Oh," said the interpreter, "they gave 'him three years hard!" It seems enough for any wornout pair of Masseys one has ever seen.

It was breakfast time in the dear young home. Mary and Jack had not been married very, very long. Jack had sung in his bath and had come to breakTHEIR WEDDING fast, clothed and in his DAY. right mind, and still carolling slightly. Mary did not carol. She looked a trifle pained. "What's the matter, old girl ?" And old girl merely said, "Oh, nothing!" Jack breakfasted, scrubbed his teeth, manicured his nails, kissed his Mary, and departed. Mary sat down sadly and said, "I knew he'd forget!" and turned .to her homiehold chores. Later she cheered up went to the telephone, and rang up Beryl. "That you. Beryl?" "Yes, Mary!" said Beryl eagerly. "Congratulations on your wedding day, dear" —for women do not forget. "Beryl." said Mary, "just ring up my Jack at his office, will you, and say the mi me V" "Same what?" "Congratulations on your wedding day." Beryl rang Jack. "That you, Mr. Exwy?" "Yes." "Congratulations on your wedding day!" "Wedding day —what wedding day?" "Your wedding day." "Oh!" said Jack. "You are a life-saver—thanks ever so much." Jack reached home at five-thirty bearing a little parcel. He handed it over to Mary, and kissed her fondly. "It's our wedding day, darling," he said softly. "Yes, dear," said Mary, "I knew you wouldn't forget."

Come to think of it, the dictators of whom we hear far too much are merely the expression in superior form oi what every minor man would like to be—and ADVICE GRATIS, who is—an his mind. For instance, a man who is not in dazzling health obtains the hest medical aid available. In a weak moment he tells his friends. The majority sweep the medical person's methods aside with a lordly wave of the hand. Have you tried dock tea or dandelion infusion, going to bed in a singlet soaked in cold water, scraped horse radish on bread and butter, or starving for three weeks to keep your strength up? Advice gratis is the prerogative of man. A suburbanite erected a post and wire fence. A Mussolini in dungarees came along, spat on the path, and said thoughtfully, "Them posts will rot —y'orter 'ave totara." The local Hitler (with whiskers) strolled into view, remarking that if them posts wasn't sunk deeper down the cows 'ud push 'em over. Dollfuss of the Post and Rail Farm spent two hours of an excellent day telling the fencer that he oughter bore holes for the wire instead of staplin' 'em on. Other dictators contributed bright ideas —and the man did as he liked. One was reminded of this particular fence by another. A man living • in a rocky suburb has "a bairn to whom distant fields are greenest. Adjoining waste ground attracts her. So pa wire-netted the boundary. Dictators arrived. ''She'll crawl under," said a man darkly. "I'll peg the bottom of the wire down." "Huh!" said the dictator, and left. The man pegged the wire down. Another dictator arrived. ''She'll pull them pegs out,"; said he. "I'll put scoria rocks all along the bottom and cement the wire to 'em." "Har!" said the dictator. The man concreted rock and netting together. A dictator came along. "Keepin' the kiddie in?" he asked dolefully. "Yes," said the proud father. "She won't be able to get through now." "Wot about a pair of wire-cutters?" said the dictator. The little wanderer is two vears old.

Mention of the stranger within our gatos who felt a hand in his pocket and suddenly wrestled with the owner of the hand, who was taken into custodv, THE CON. MEN. will remind everybody of pickpockets, confide "nee men and company promoters. Pocket-picking has often been illustrated, and one notable picture shows a close-packed race crowd among whom one pickpocket is unable to extract his hand from another pickpocket's pocket. The second pickpocket whispers to the first, "It's all right, matey—Watcrbuvy!"—a "watch of the period with a twelve-foot spring noted for excellence—and cheapness. Reminiscent, too, of the stranger within the gates of Sydney who, taking a trip on a tramcar to* a suburb, met a chatty chap in nice clothes. The chatty one, sensing a rich farmer, mentioned that the tramcar belonged to him and that he would like to sell it. He produced documents showing the daily earnings of the tram —and sold tho whole thing, with all right* and privileges thereunto appertaining, to the stranger for a hundred pounds. The yarn is hardly as bizarre a-s the one about the backblocks person who stood admiring the pigeons that used to live about the General Post Office in Martin Square. The confidence man in this case, mentioning that the pigeons belonged to him, tried hard to sell the lot to the stranger, who was on the point of making a deal when a plain-clothes sleuth intervened with a hiss to the crook, "Get out of it!" —the incident closing.

Professor Albert Einstein, the relativitywizard, who is no longer welcome in his own country, the Fatherland, because he is a .Jew, has gone to the United NOT A WORD! States and a fine fat job at' Princeton University. But the point is that the authorities sneaked Albert ashore and dashed him off per secret car to Princeton for fear American news hounds should write three-column farces'a bout him before his foot touched Liberty, for, as you know, tihey are prone to refer even to Mr. Forbes as the Prime Minister of Australia, and what they'd do to Albert, dear only knows. This violet-like modesty in a unique man is not unique in mankind and recalls the modesty of a great American captain of industry who toys with millions, corners markets and plays draughts with railway systems. He escaped from his local turmoil for a rest in England. He jest naterally opined he'd hide himself in a quiet little spot and let the world of dollars roll by for a while. He had no sooner put his ha? down in the foyer of a modest London hotel than six reporters stalked him and held him at bay. "No, boys, no! I'm here, for a rest. I'm here incog. You can't extract one liT word from me with corkscrews." The lads, taking him at his word, folded up their pads, pocketed their pencils, and turned for the street. The great man was astounded. He rushed to his bag, dived into it, and produced several reams of typewritten stuff, serving large sections of it on the escaping scribblers. "That's about all you can say, boys—not a word more, notta—single—wordmore!" A THOUGHT FOR TO-DAY. The men and women, though they he poor, ignorant, blundering, who day by * day are quietly setting asid'e their own pleasure, for the sake of some other person, taste a sweetness and get in themselves a growth which makes the world a sacred place for them.—G. S. Merriman.