THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 238, 8 October 1934, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.)

Dear M.A.T., —An ingenious individual with a bent for figures has made the interesting calculation that if the U.S.S.R. could col- ° lect a license fee of five THE BUSY kopecks for each time the BOATMAN. "Song of the Volga Boatmen" is put on the air and the total amount realised thereby converted at present rates of exchange, all the barges plying* on the Volga could be fitted, with 20 h.p. semi-Diesel engines, and thus allow the worn-out toilers to take a wellearned rest as "shock" workers in the abattoirs of Leningrad. —Moujik.

The sound of the pipes drew the suburbanite from his evening book out on to the road. A Scotsman lie knew was walking up and down a short span of THE PIPER. road playing dreadfully. Many a face with clenched teeth looked from many a window. The man who had discarded the book waylaid the Scot and asked him what the de'il he was up to disturbing the silence of the evening. And he said that as he had to pay a lump of interest oil the morrow he was getting his courage up. An argument and a conversation ensued. Apropos of the courage of the Scot, the piper mentioned that it was the pipes at Lucknow that put courage into the troops (who had no interest to pay). It was the pipes that brought fame to Peter Findlater on the heights of Dargai, and it was the pipes that brought cheer to the kilties and a V.C. to Laidlaw at Loos. The piper went on to say something about the McCrimmonses who had done nothing of a desperate nature except to write bagpipe music. They flourished in Skve for centuries. It serves 'em right.

It is a tender thought that the Belgian hill down which King Albert fell to his death is to be wholly planted with English primroses in token of inter"DIZZY'S" DAY. national friendship. They are to be gathered from English copses, roadsides and fields and transplanted. It is possible they will not become, a noxious weed, as Belgium is rather thickly populated and not of large extent. Large masses of primroses planted in international amity may remind people of incredibly large masses of this flower as a tribute to Britain's own dead. The primrose was the favourite, flower of Disraeli, Earl Beaconsfield, a statesman who captured the imagination of the people of all degrees, including that of royalty. On the anniversary of his death for many vears after .it was common to cover the whole of the fronts of selected large buildings in English towns with masses of primroses. Political clubs and similar places were usually chosen for the displays. It was a constant marvel where the enormous number of blooms came from, as it was quite unusual to cultivate them, and it is likely that the whole display was gathered in lane, copse and meadow.

The momentary presence in Auckland of some Red Indians accompanied by a professional knife thrower may remind users of dinner cutlery that this A CASE OF pointed pastime is hardly CUTLERY, ever indulged in in our own sporting circles. It is appropriate that during a long "dry" regime the U.S.A. should have trained all the world's best knife throwers, for sobriety and a keen eye are absolutely necessary. There is the unpleasant story of the knife thrower whose wife had burned the bacon (or done some other shocking thing). The husband, ordinarily the pattern of sobriety, overstepped the mark. His turn consisted in outlining in gleaming heavy knives the figure of his wife, who stood against a board. He aberrated slightly and pinned her to the board by an ear. It is recorded that in order not to spoil the turn she made no mention of the accident until the turn was done. The only knife thrower one remembers in fiction is Long John Silver, who used to throw a crutch, hopping rapidly on to his smitten victim and knifing tho poor gentleman. Of course, there is the pastime of "knifey" among the boys, but happily up to the moment no boy outlines his cobber against a tree with cutlery. Dear M.A.T., —A New Zcalander who, I am afraid, has never seen a live serpent, wants to know w-hether snakes can hear. If so, how,

for they do not appear to THE SNAKE'S have anv ears. Well, a EAR. similar inquiry some years ago in far-off Hindustan led to a terrible lot of back-chat in tlie mess. There were two scientists, Bingey and Blerio I used to call them in my mind, who contradicted each other on the subject day after day. I enjoyed the controversy, but others didn't. So the subject was closed, but not before Blerio had got in a verse from Scripture about the deaf adder that closeth her eyes and refuseth to hear the voice of the charmer, cliarm he never so wisely. Bingey's reply, which never saw the light (that's why I give it now), was to the effect that the mere fact that the "deai adder" is mentioned implies that there were other kinds of adders that were not deaf. And all the time the discussion was proceeding I had in my mind the picture of a ragged man with a pipe who produced by piping a black cobra which had been known for some days to be hidden somewhere inside a thatched roof. But, of course, snakes must be able to hear. What about charmers and their snakes swaying to music? Besides, real scientists, not mere back-chat artists, have discovered the apparatus with which they hear. I don't know cxactly where or what it is.—Safdar Jang. The sea sands from Milford to Cheltenham. were on the Sabbath (which was made for man and not man for the Sabbath) dotted with the lirst fruits of HOLIDAY GEAR, the season, large numbers of aged stalwarts rigorously undergoing the preliminary martyrdoms of early summer. The aged and middle-aged mail on such occasions is usually indicating ho is "just as good" as he was 20 years ago. Ho runs lightly up and down the beach until he stubs his toes upon a buried rock and is the admiration of his family who sit above tlie high water clothed in new season's goods and adoring father. Among the accumulated pas noted between the two mentioned points were intrepid leaders who dashed into the breakers with a hesitating following of ripened fathers dashing after. Tlie masses of middle-aged heroes were noted more particularly because of the younger blazer brigade who took their Sunday out in strolls and exhibitions of pyrotechnic garments. In short, the younger ones are not yet emulating their fathers in the tide. A notable feature of these chromatic blazers is the prodigious club devices irradiating the breasts of these garments. One feels that business life might be as cheery as beach life if the rainbow blazer with the device came to town as well as his club. A man might indicate his trade or profession as well as his club. What could be more suitable for a banker, for instance, than a daily blazer in the modest colours of a Reserve Bank pound note with the fascimile (in a chaste brown) of a ten-shilling note on the breast? A general application of this distinction would cheer us hugely. You'd be able to distinguish your butcher from your baker—and dodge cither.

A THOUGHT FOR TO-DAY. Good wives, like flowers, bloom here and there; Bad wives, like weeds, grow everywhere. —Euripides.