THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 118, 21 May 1934, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.)

A bitter morning suggested warming beverages, foods of a high calorific content, hot water bottles and nitre. Discussion of seasonal complaints beROYAL tween s-niffs and handkerPRESCRIPTION. chief displays led Charles to Hie story of the King and the Devonport lady. The lady is a notable loyalist. When the King was seriously ill the lady, deeply sympathising with Hie Majesty, and out of pure loving' kindness, wrote to him advising him to rub himself with sulphur and lard, which she had found so effective as a palliative for the complaint from which Hi.* Majesty was said to be suffer - iirn-. Mention of the incident produced the usual cackles and the suggestion that legs were being pulled. But there arrived from Buckingham Palace a letter under the hand of the King's secretary thanking the Devonport lady for her anxiety as to His Majesty's health and for the recipe the letter contained. And the Royal letter in a frame still decorates a Devonport wall.

'Dear M.A.T., —Scene: Lonely farmhouse outback. Tea time; the old man at the head of the table; a cricket enthusiast and keen follower of Australian AND SIX form nt Homo. His wife, ARE NINE, a dear old thing, anxious to please her husband, the daughter and two farm hands. Barring the old man, not one of the party knows the difference between a cricket bat and a Jersey bull. The old man is deploring tho cricket ignorance of his household and ha,s no one to digefiea Grimmett's feat against Cambridge, and is quietly lamenting the ignorance. "What did Grimmett do?" asks the old woman, in her anxiety to pleaee. "Took nine wickets against Cambridge," replies the O.M. "How wonderful," replies the 0.W., "but I thought they only had three wickets, so where did he get'the other six?" quite seriously. The O.M. simply looked at her, then continued taking his soup, .so that he could not hear anything further from them on cricket. —O.M.

Sentimcntaliste, understanding the basic ■truth that New Zealand was made by the draught horse and the man, woman, boy or girl w'ho drove hifti (her YOUR FEET. or it)', may be moved by the news that there is a new demand for all kinds of horses. There seems now little chance of going to the Zoo to gazo on the last specimen of this interesting, ruminating, gramnivorous quadruped. Locally the old prad has held his own de6pite the magic spark, and one of the continued features of the suburbs is the passing by of the butcher's carte honsed by stalwart trotters and handled by men who appear to be as proud of the feel of the ribbons as are their broth-ere of the motor wheel. One glance at thoeo splendid utility horses seen at a recent mounted rifles training camp will dispel any notion that New Zealand has forgotten how to grow horses, and the chubby sorts seen dragging so many ploughs nowadays demonstrate that the hiatue has not been fatal and that the Shire horse has been doing his duty. There ien't any doubt that at the basie of the bone-deep interest in racing thoroughbreds and "hunter.s" is the feeling that sooner or later, despite mechanised armies, the horse fit to carry a man and a heavy pack over hostile country will be again wanted, and very likely while we arc thinking of cheeee, butter, wool and beef we shall automatically give u good deal of thought to remounts. TLay will presently sell "like hot cakee."

The British telephone industry recently tendered a meal to the Postmaster-General and a good few other*. They installed a 300-

line switchboard in the THE MOVING dining room, apparently DIAL, so that all the gueets might join in the conversation. But the real novelty, apart from a gigantic telephone carved in ice (cold comfort, sez you!) were the luminous telephones that lighted up as a speaker rose, and faded into darkness ae ho closed his remarks. As a matter of fart, at businesslike banquets likely to be attended by speakers who imitate so remarkably Tennyson's brook, theee warning telephonic lights are automatic, are set opposite the speaker and die out long before the speaker has gat to his fifthly or isixthly, warning him to dry up. In short, they meaeure speech into bearable lengths, and it is possible that within a decade or two New Zealand will install them in every hall where our eminent-; "have no hesitation in saying." Oα the other hand, of course, London professional orators may follow the example of a Xew Zealand statesman and go away in the wilds (with a small stall') to think in silence and outside telephone aveas. One learns that the automatic system in use in London will be completed in eight years. And before that we shall all be able to televise the face that talks to Hβ over the wire.

Ho is a suburban clergyman of some weight, a winning smile and various receipts for happiness, including the social entertainment of the flock. SmilTHE PRIEST'S ingly admitted without STORY, pressure that at a cheery little concert, among the iteniis were twenty-one of his own. He talks the Doric as to the manner born, and the way ]ie rolls, an "r" is entrancing. There was the case of the canny Scotswoman, ' who, being apprised of the forthcoming concert, wunnered if Jock, herself and the bairn should go, for it'wad net them back a couple sliulliii", ye ken, and siller is nane too plentiful these times, if you know what Ah mean. So the cheery clergyman told her that ishe ank Jock and the bairn mieht gae and sample the ehow. "But if we dinna like it?" she said anxiously, "maybe the bairn wculd greet and we'd liae to leave the hall." "Oh, well," said the clergyman, ''if the baby cries, or if jou dinlla like it, you can get your money back—an' no hard feelings." And so they all went to the concert, and Jock sat with a countenance of iron staring at the stage. And after a bit Jock said, "Maggie, lass, just gic the bairn a wee pinch. ,. And the clergyman, telling the story, added, "Man, 'twas gey hard to gio that twa ehulliii's back"—and laughed uproariously.

"One touch of Nature makes the whole world skill." Apropos this inexcusable misquotation, there is a man who. toiling- painfull v during dain p THE FRIENDLY weather, took an intolerTOUCH. able lumbar pain home with him. Neighbourly advice was to the effect that he ought to be massaged with Hone's Liniment. He would ■rub it in without cost. H o rubbed it in with enormous skill, and the patient crawled away to bed. "You'll be all right now!" trilled the amateur masseur, and smilingly left. Next ■morning the family physician was seen about it. He prescribed a liniment. The neighbour applied it with tremendous vigour. "Fool the pain disappearing, don't you?" he cheered. "It isn't as good as Hone's," but it's the rubbing that counts." So he rubbed, and smilingly left the patient to writhe in torment* through the long night. And in the morning the victim felt so much like the sailor who had one hundred and twenty laehre from the quartermaster at the triangles that anxious relatives sent for the doctor. The doctor viewed the excoriated back. "What have they been doing -to him?" he aeked. "Oh, just inas'age, doctor." "Who was the masseur?" They told him. "What kind of' sandpaper does he use?" asked the doctor, ordering- gentle unguents and eoft I iingere.