THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 130, 4 June 1935, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE, MAN ABOUT TOWN.)

Mention has been herein made- of workers who must of public necessity work on days when the other part of humanity is engaged in holiday revelry—bless WASTED their little hearts. _It HOLIDAY, occurred in one establishment on King's Birthday that a staff turned to as usual—but that these men "shook it up," as the vulgate natli it. in order to get away early enough to see a football match; Among the staff is a man whoso ordinary half-day holiday fell that afternoon. A football enthusiast met him hurtling along the footpath heading for the skyline" in the lunch hour. "Where are you going, Jack?" "Oh," said Jack, "it is my half-holiday—l'm going home." 'Good heavens! Fancy having a half-holiday—and going homo!"

The pioneer commander of New Zealand's fighting army is dead. Major-General Sir Alfred Kobin, of Dunedin, was, in 1399, a captain of volunteers, was FIRST STEPS, promoted to be major, and commanded the first 214 mounted riflemen to leave New Zealand on active service. It is, of course, so long ago that schoolboys are justified in mixing their Waterloo's and their Paardeburgs—even their Hastings and their Ypres—but what matters is that the small bunch of trained men was the germ of all succeeding fighting forces both in Africa—and in the greater, bloodier and much less interesting universal horror of 1&14. It is not to be forgotten that Sir Alfred in his earlier civil life was the son of a coachmakor and a coachmaker himself, and, indeed, his expert knowledge of wheels was of service throughout his career, and particularly in Africa, where there were millions of wheels pulled by every kind of draught animal—and never a drop of benaine between Capetown and the Pongola. Major Robin's fortunate selection for this first command gave him the experience that made him so valuable and ensured his steady promotion to the place he occupied. During the Groat War he applied instantly for employment at the front, but ho was used for the immensely important New Zealand command during a time when intricate and skilled organisation was the first necessity of the splendid army that justified its trailing—and its breed.

It is presumed that the average person on ordinary occasions goes about being as loyal as it is possible to be without saying a word about it. By their THE CROWD. fruits shall yo know them —and their fruits look good. But the average person does not break into expressions of fealty until he is organised by others into concrete expressions of joy, discipline and regimentation. It is the organisation of crowds for any festive occasion that is taken as the aggregate feeling of the people's heart—hence street parades, cheers, disciplined crowds and messages presumed to express the feeling Of every person concerned. An extract from the works of Guy de Maupassant, that great Frenchman", is apropos: '-'July 14. Fete of the Republic. 1 walked, through the streets, amused as a child at the fire-crackers and flags. Still, it is very foolish to be merry on a fixed day by Government decree. The population is an imbecile flock of sheep, now stupidly patient and now in furious revolt. Say to it, 'Amuse yourself,' and it amuses itself. Say to it, 'Go and fight your neighbour,' and it goes and fights. Say to it, 'Vote for the Emperor,' nnd it votes Tor the Emperor, and then say to it, 'Vote for the Republic,' and it votes for the Republic. Those who direct it are also stupid, only instead of obeying men they obey principles, which can only bo stupid, sterile and false." From what the irritable Guy says, the dotted line was the dotted line even when he was young.

A custom was prevalent in Lancashire at ono time (and one supposes still is to some extent where women form the greater portion of cotton factory BEST LAID workers) for husband SCHEMES, ETC. and wife to be engaged in the same industry, i.e., cotton weaving, though not necessarily at the same factory. This often entailed hardship, especially on the part of the married woman, as, in addition to her work in the factory, sho also had the care of the home and children, and'it was no uncommon sight to sc-e mother, on a cold winter's morning, with baby wrapped in blankets, taking him (or her) out to a neighbour's to nurse. This sort 'of thing made life a very drab existence, an:l it i≤ not beyond belief that the poor wife feigned sickness sometimes to.obtain a "spell", at home to catch up with her housework. One is reminded of two married women who had readied the stage of being "fed up" with this sort of life, and had decided to concoct a story regarding the attentions of the overlooker. Said Mrs. "A, to her husband, "Jack, the overlooker, keeps winking at me." Jack, of a rather jealous nature, said, "Oh, does he, well from now on tha stops at hooam." This suits Mrs. A. admirably. Said Mrs. 8., "Bill, does tha know that th' tackier is allus winking at me?" But Mr. 8., with a sly smile, says, "Well's that's good, for tha mini wink back, and he'll put thee some good warps in." Proving that the best laid s -hemes o' mice and men (and women) gang aft aglcy. —J.E. Dear M.A.T.,—World-wide interest will culminate this week in the world's greatest race, the Derby Stakes, at Epsom. It is rather odd that some of the most SEEING THE important races in Eng"DERBY." land should be decided

over the worst courses. Neither Epsom Downs nor the Turf Moor at Don caster (whore the St. Leger, the last of the season's classics, is run) can compare with first-class courses, such as Ascot or Goodwood, yet their popularity lias grown, rather than diminished, -with the passing of the years. Epsom, like Doncaster, is a public course, and it is not difficult to get an excellent view of the vital stages of the Derby race for nothing. One remembers seeing the start of the 1913 contest and 'running up the Hill to see the field swing round Tattenham Corner, then to see Miss Davidson, the sufl'ragette, fling herself into the course to snatch at the head of the King's horse Anmer, and to be knocked down, fatally injured, while the jockey, Charlie Foy, was thrown headlong. Later thrills in that notable race were the struggle between Crnganour, the favourite, and Aboyeur, the 100 to 1 outsider, who were locked together down the straight. Craganour won, but was disqualified, and Aboyeur was awarded the verdict. Round Tattenham Corner and then down the hill is so perilous a pnssage that the fact of there being so few accidents is remarkable. One does not realise what the hill is when looking at it from the stands; one must go to the corner and glance down. It is, indeed, a tricky course, yet it has never been the scene of so spectacular a riding incident as once occurred during the running of the St. Legcr. There was a dangerousTbcnd at Doncaster, and, years ago, Tom Loates, on St. Serf, was knocked out of the saddle. Ho must have fallen had not Tom Cannon, riding alongside, literally (.'aught him and put him back again. Improvements have be-en made to the Doncaster course, but tlin trade on Epsom Downs remains unaltered. It has been said that no bad horse ever won the Derby, but the course is certainly a test of "handiness" as well as speed and stamina. Also it is a test of courage and skill for a. jockey as is unknown in any other contest "on the flat."—The Brigadier.