THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVII, Issue 154, 1 July 1936, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.) Proudly mentioned in Australia that Sir Alan Newton, Melbourne surgeon, was among fat knisht, TKE grandfather, Sir George QUEEN'S HAND. Stephen, was the hrs knight made by the young Queen Victoria. Sir George was the English barrister who zealously worked for negro tree dom—hence his knighthood. _ The tnro'ie room was crowded, the coming knight told to kneeL Queen arid' gentleman were nervous. Ike Queen, a little flurried, extended her left hand instead of her right, so Sir George is n.ud to be the only knight who ever kissed the Queen's wedding ring. Sir Ge ° r 2 e knelt for many minutes while the Lord Lhambei lam hunted round for the sword which was missin"-. As the trembling knight knelt he heaid the n-reat Queen say to the Lord Chamberlain, •'And what do I do next, my lord?" They were talking about English pure and undefiled, English as she is spoke, English as she is said in the shires and the colonies—and in London. And these MAN, DEAR-R-R! twain agreed that although county dialect is romantic and historic and valued and a line tradition, it is a bad handicap if the man who talks county dialect goes where his dialect is merely funny to those he speaks to and he has to fight his way with those who possess no dialect. And these things being agreed, it was noted that Scots who so often speak a queer English of their own, which is mistakenly called "Scots," stick to their dialects like glue —and speak the same tongue at the age of eighty in Pukewarawara as they did in Eccelfechan when they were eighteen. It is the only dialect one can capitalise —off the stage — and even so, Englishmen learn the '"Scots" to get into the radio world. There are schools in Scotland to teach Scots who speak Oxford English their own dialect, so that they can face the financial world unafraid and rolling their "r'a"

The mention herein by other eaters of the spiritual importance of kai to man (which term shall mean, include and embrace woman)

reminds one mostly of ARISE, SIR LOIN! bush cooks and shearing chefs, and the old-time necessity for these artists to be pugilists, too. Chinese cooks were the only type that did not have to light, merely because they could cook well enough to save their lives, but the man-o-wars man who had never cooked before and took on a shed of forty shearers had to light all-comers. Women who pretend that kai is not the most important thing to man (and woman) were never on an Australian river when disgusted shearers threw the man cook in the Darling and let him drown while a man stood with a revolver to prevent rescue. Neither, on a would say, have ladies who note a manly attachment to scran, tucker, toke, kai or skoff seen a cavalry brigade (bereft for long of vegetable sustenance) clean up twenty-five acres of growing oranges in a pig's whisper. And very likely few of one's rotund readers, swollen with breakfast, have seen a man so empty of tucker and so near the Golden Gates that he couldn't eat at ail. No wonder that king knighted Sir Loin. Two helpings, mother! Dear M.A.T., —Is it true that men in general think mostly of tucker? I was in a friend's house one day recently. Our conversation was mostly of FOOD. the different feeds we had had in different parts of the world. He would say, "Do you remember that place in Cairo where we had the marvellous coffee, and pastry?" and I would reply, "And those Borizer omelettes we used to get in Xewville-sur-Somme?" His wife, who listened to us for a while, lost patience, and said. "Bah! That's all you men think about — food." The remark sounded familiar. Later I remembered the outlines of one of 0. gem short stories. A girl cashier in her father's eatinghouse seen men guzzling eternally—she's sick of the sight of food—when others eat it. A commercial traveller with an eye for the girl eats there immoderately to win her love —but wins her disgust. One day, sparring up for recognition, the girl says, "Bah —you men think about hardly anything but food —I am sick of the sight of it." She changed her mind after being marooned by flood waters in a deserted cabin for two days without tucker with the man (who was escorting her to relatives in another town). 'They both whiled away the time by ordering imaginary dishes of rich foods. The experience of being really hungry converted the girl to a different point of view. As you mentioned in your column recently, a prolonged sameness of diet is not too good. t once asked mv late i *- 1 cobber, Sailor Bill, if he liked curry. He 3aid, "No. I ain't got no time for it. not u.ikc j. lived oil it for six weeks, when I missed me boat in Colombo."—D.D.

He is an Auckland business man and has recently visited London. A friend, had done business with a London firm, which had treated him verv nicelv. thank SPOTTING US you. The friend asked the IN LONDON. traveller prior to his departure to look up this firm when in London and tell them how much he appreciated their service. So when he invaded the vicinity of Chisel Street, where the excellent McC. and J. hang out their shingle, he remembered his promise and set out to redeem it. But Chisel Street's buildings had no numbers upon their doorfronts, and the stranger within the gat >s was puzzled. He saw a man on the footpath across the way and went over to ask where No. 38 was.. "This is it," said the home-grown product, "and you'll be wanting McC. and J. Come up to the sixth floor with me in the lift." "How do you know who I want?" asked the visitor. "Oh, all the overseas gentlemen ask for McC. and J.." was the reply. "And how long have you known I was from overseas?" persisted the inquisitor. "Ever since you crossed the road to speak to me," was the surprising reply. "You will be from Australia or New Zealand. You're not from South Africa." By this time the sixth floor had been reached, and when the visitor walked into the office and asked for Mr. McC. he was told that he was not in. But his new-found friend was close at hand. "Mr. J. will do as well," he said. So Mr. J. ' was interviewed satisfactorily. Coniin-r down in the lift the Aucklander inquired, "How did you know I was not a South African?" "Your skin is different," was the reply. "You can always tell a South African from a New Zealander or Australian by that." All of which goes to show that the Cockney, surrounded as he is by every type of man known to the earth, keeps his"eyjs open, and that the things we do not notice ourselves are as plain as a pikestaff to London. And when the Aucklander reached the requisite floor, J. of McC. and J. was to all intents and purposes as if he was McC. himself. It appears that a colonial may disguise himself as a Londoner—but he is spotted first time. THOUGHTS FOR TO-DAY. The childhood shows the man. As morning shows the day. —Milton. Tlie stumbling block in a man's career is often only a stepping stone in the wrong place. —Dearden. Who lives to nature rarely can be poor; who lives to fancy never can be rich.—Young. Here the heart May give a useful lesson to the head. — Cowper.