THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 12, 15 January 1934, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.)

Asked the why and wherefor of the "littering rise in the price of wool and the world demand for the same, a thoughtful man simply replied,- "Soldiers MEN'S WEAR, must have uniforms," which is a saddening thought. It is cabled that the price of men s civ-vie clothes must go up, which emphatically means that the civilian man on depleted and much attacked income must buy _ fewer clothes. If the wool is needed for uniforms, it necessarily follows that the civilian wiL not want so many civilian clothes, simply because he will presently Iks wearing khaki, field grey, horizon blue and other entrancing colours, with leather trimmings and flax and cotton belts. Logically, if the gentleman who makes the above remark is right, we are at present rejoicing at the prospect of war. Very likelv he is wrong. There are three hundred million people in Gandhi's land and five 'hundred million folks in a certain Eastern republic, the vast majority of whom never had a (woollen suit on in their lives. Perhaps they are all going in for sac suits.

If you are fighting for a Cause go for it baldheaded. Dilettanti never get thereenthusiasts carry the day. Once upon a time there was a suburban MIDNIGHT Mayor, who received a MEETING, ring on the 'phone. The Voice said that the Head of the Cause was on his way from overseas and it was proposed that the brethren of the Cause should give him a, rousing •reception. Would his Worship give the matter his attention—would he ally himself l impartially with the brethren; interest himself in the fprthcoming meeting, and so forth? Might he see (his Worship oil, say, Tuesday? He only required two minutes of his Worship's time. The official replied that on Tuesday he had a /lumber of matters requiring his attention, but that at midnight of that day 'he would be driving home past Sweet .Street. Ho was required to sav no more, for the enthusiast in the Cause broke in to say in a cheery voice,' "All right, sir! I'll be there at midnight sharp—only take a couple of minutes of your valuable time. Many thanks, sir!" and rang off. And so the enthusiast in the Cause (aged seventy-eight) tramped out to the corner of Sweet Street before midnight and was on the •spot as the Mayoral car came up. The matter being adjusted, the enthusiast presumably tramped off home.

He »poke enthusiastically of the sermon he had heard on Sunday and the excellences of the church choir. A man who had spent his Sabbath buzzing along THE MESSAGE, country roads in a car asked iliim which church ho had attended, and he said that he hadn't been inside a church for many months. How then ".Radio!" he trilled. He is under the impression that radio is a boon to cleigjmen and to people. A clergyman addressing a known (and a still larger unknown) audience oftentimes puts over a brighter and a better message. He is on his mettle. The man who. hears a sermon in his own home parlour offends no one if he switches off the voice of a preacher and tunes in to get the remarks or a parson six hundred miles away—he can sample them seriatim. A preacher is unaware when five hundred listene'rs-in listen in to him no longer and sample one of several other pulpiteers. The pietist who doesn't stir from his radio may agitate his machine until he at last hears "Lead, Kindly Light," his favourite hymn—and one has known of a man who searched New Zealand stations for "Abide With Me," and a parson whose message was more hopeful than condemnatory. "And what," said the man who had buzzed about in a car all Sunday, "do you do about the collection?" The listener-in was silent for a moment. "I never thought of that," said he, jingling two threepenny pieces.

The fact that tho Duke of Westminster is to sue his nieco (a daughter of Earl Beauchamp) for alleged libel said to have been contained in a published NOBLE PENMAN, article written by her ladyship reminds one that the peerage of the day is distinctly inky" and that few papers are complete without the alluring prattle of their Jprdships and their ladyshfps. Marquises contribute flippant clilb jests and literary champagne bubbles and dress clothes paragraphs to papers, and much rrtore interest is taken in a Mayfair lunch if the Earl of Castleblarney has written the report, or at least has permitted his name to head the column. The matter need be of little moment—but the name is the stuff. There was enthusiastic reception (and increase of circulation) when a duke told the story 'of his adventurous life as a sailor, cowboy and what not; infinitely more interesting, of course, than if the same set of experiences had been told under a pair of initials by a mere professional scribbler. Ladies of noted families need no apprenticeship to letters to obtain a reading public that laps up every paragraph with aviditv. Admirals, generals, ex-Ministers, ex-Presidents, ex-dictators, retiring from their respective jobs, become journalists in a night. I The habitual, trained, industrious, plain Mister Ink, who has never seen his own name in print, can easily see it and rake in a luscious wage by getting raised to the peerage. Among the few noblemen who do not write for tho papers is the Duke of' Westminster himself. iHe doesn't want the money. He has too many millions to bother about the measly thousands.

Dear M.A.T., —Very few in New Zealand seem to know about the "E2\C." That is because, like tho Arab Rebellion, it has never been written up, though THE CORDON, those who formed part of it will never forget. The East Persian Cordon was the name given to that tremendous line of pickets which during the later years of the World War we threw out from* Quetta, through Meshed, right up to the shores of the Black Sea. There was at that time a grave danger to India of an invasion by Bolshevik hordes supported by all kinds of wild Central Asian tribes with a backing of two German and Turkish divisions which ° were called Iklerim, "Lightning." Agents had been amongst the Turkis, Turkomans and Khirgiz, saying that the old days of the wolf gangs were coming again, and that the rich fields and bazaars of Hindustan were lying open to loot because the British and Indian armies were hotly engaged elsewhere. We did not know which way the invaders were coming, whether through the Khyber or by the Bolan. The Khyber was provided for by putting an army in echelon between Peshawar and Umballa. There were a quarter of a million men in that army, a fact not .remembered now. The Quetta side was watched bv the East Persian Cordon. What a watch it was, too, in the heat and dust of the summer and the terrible cold of the winter, surrounded by hostile camels and the unpleasant faces of the men who had hoped to be wolves and now found that it was impossible. There was fighting, too, up and down, of that wretched and. continuous kind in which no good blows are struck, but good men are slain by snipers in the dark. I speak as if I had been on the cordon myself. Yes, for some months at Meshed.—Safdar Jang.

A THOUGHT FOR TO-DAY. We are often Infinitely mistaken, and take the falsest measures, when we envy the happiness of rich and great men. We know hot the inward canker that eats, out all their joy and delight, and makes them really much more miserable than ourselves. —Bishop Hall.