THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 277, 22 November 1934, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.) The demand by the Salvation Army that Rotoroa —sanctuary for those formerly addicted to strong waters —should be even more private, will revive THE PARSNIP memory of one of these STORY, sanctuary islands in time gone by. It was then alleged that a gentleman belonging to a gardening fatigue showed signs of an unusual hilarity as if he had spurred his faculties with illegal stimulants. It was further remarked that as no outside supplies had ever reached these gardeners, it followed that they had obtained the same by application to the science of fermentation. Indeed, it was almost positively asserted that the apparently innocent parsnip had been the basis of the potent fluid that led to the alleged dissipation of the gardening staff. As almost any kind of nonpoisonous vegetation lends itself a basis for frolicsome drinks, it naturally follows that curative organisations become increasingly alert in keeping the snake out of Eden. Dr. Martin Tweed, of the Plunket Society, has issued the periodical anathema against the infantile comforter, or "dummy," a device, (regarded as diabolical by THE BABY CROP, the unmarried, deceiving the infant into the belief that it is obtaining sustenance. In the lower stratum of society, where the mother has not the pence to purchase this aid to adult quietness, mothers have been known to dip a bit of rag in the sugar basin, conferring the same 011 the babe. Dark mothers —many of whom nowadays listen to air concerts and use dummies in the kraal —used to stop the infantile bellowings with a little length of sugar cane. The Dutch woman, who, by the way, so rarely uses the comforter Plunket so much deprecates, will sometimes check the squalls of her infant by removing the cigarette or pipe from her own lips, transferring it to the lips of the babe. The rumour that Eastern mothers allay the shrieks of their infantry with betel nut is not confirmed, but the maternal art of deceiving the offspring by barren devices is almost universal. One might be almost learned on the matter of the substitution of calves' food for the natural baby stimulant, a matter, perhaps, of as much importance as the masticating of the too

universal dummy. , Dear M.A.T., —Do you recall the golden age of hairpins? Men little realised then how fortunate thej' were. Hairpins fell like rain everywhere and their uses RETALIATION. >vere innumerable. They kept moths from lamp globes and gas mantles; when machinery went wrong they were invaluable; burglars picked locks with them; they gave evidence so that the erring husband was brought to justice; but most important of all, the vulgar man cleaned his pipe with them. Then women sheared their hair and hairpins became obsolete. Men in desperation bought proper woolly pipe cleaners, long, attenuated things with little backbone, and used them gloomily. Now insult has been added to injury. The feminine womanly woman has returned, her head crowned with masses of curls. She manufactures them nightly with the aid of her husband's pipe cleaners. You who have women-kind will realise how she does it. Have women been plotting this revenge all these shingled years in return for the hairpins that were stolen from them? Perha])s it means that women arc beginning to lean on the strong man again. The next step will be when she borrows his handkerchiefs to dry' her womanly tears.—D.M.S. Hr London has just undergone the thickest fog for years —a "London Particular" of the good old type. As lots of Londoners lost their j way, one feels that a SEVERAL FOGS. "London Particular" is almost as bad as a Taranaki Ordinary—having sampled both. One's occupation in New Plymouth made it necessary to walk a verst or two along Carrington Road between midnight and dawn. On this roacl one has met gentlemen who had just escaped from the "Kathleen Mavoureen" gaol on tlie way, a man who 011 seeing one approach dodged into a gateway to escape the apparent burglar, a wild morepork which swooped at him every morning—and a New Plymouth fog or so. Present citizen found that if he could get somebody going the same way in the fog one must clutch him firmly for fear of losing liinv. One,, has gone arm in arm with a perfect stranger whom one felt but could not see, and one doesn't know him yet. These twain linked, collided with an electric light post—the light invisible—and begged the post's pardon. Collisions with wayside cows were common enough, but the short cut through one of the linest picture spots 011 earth—Pukekura Park —was uncommon. Tlie midnight wanderer taking the short cut— because the gate was slightly visible—took the invisible path round the lake, missed the track, slid down the clay bank into the edge of that picturesque lake, and by a miracle climbed with finger nails and boot toes back again, reaching the sweet old home presumably by magic. Now if that had been a London Particular instead of a Taranaki Ordinary one could have asked a policeman. ; Further to a learned dissertation 011 indicative costumes as revenue producers in new countries —thus copying the old—there comes a man who, oil DRESS THE moral grounds, objects to PART, baiting this Dominion for the tourist. Bill —his real | name is William—very properly points out that when anything unusual takes place in New Zealand the Maori, a rather nil picturesque citizen for eleven months in the year, is expected to parade in the regalia of fighting days. When, for instance, H.R.H. Prince Henry comes the rangatira will desert his job of leaning 011 .1 stick gazing at the scenery attired in dungarees, and rush into hastilymanufactured Maori garb, acquire savage gestures, under competent instructors, clubs and meres hastily turned out to a pattern at a sawmill, and will yell and dance splendidly. Hone from the kuinara patch will abandon his spade, shovel, grubber and what not and rush back to ancient days and join his fellow comedians for a short spell. The point, however, is that the rangatira, tlie poi girls and the warriors with the vicious timber from the sawmills will be magnificently photographed—and our relatives at Home will be thrilled at our savages and probably buy firearms to come to New Zealand with. They will regard H.R.H. as a man who takes liis life in his hands in the Outer Empire. Man savs, too, that during Royal visits to Africa many of the farms were denuded of plain, black workers, who stripped of! their clothing, | rushed into nakedness (covered only by ration karosses), seized their oxen hide shields and wicked assegais (a Birmingham contract), and rushed to the local impi—charging .like anything, in two souses. And he freely admits that it is jolly good for' trade. THOUGHTS FOR TO-DAY. Don't let us dream our lives way. or wait for some great occasion of sacrifice which may never come.—Rev. D. Considine. Silence, is like sleep, it refreshes wisdom. —Bacon. Map judges character by conduct: God 1 judges conduct by character.—Sir Robert Anderson. The margin between success-and failure is often infinitesimal.—J. Harold Watts. ]