THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 25, 30 January 1937, Page 8

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MEN ABOUT TOWN.) In a group of three fathers and two grandfathers the subject of infantile paralysis was being gravely discussed. "My son had infantile paralysis, you EFFECT OF I.P. know,'' remarked one of the grandfathers. Amid murmurs of sympathy, one of the group asked. "Did it leave any serious after-effects on his constitution?"' '"Too blooming right it did.'' the first speaker affirmed. "He's only been married four years and he has five children—two pairs of twins and a singleton. —I.M.

Oh, come all ye farmers, abandon your tacks, and gather from far and from near: vour wise an<l benevolent Government asks from von an obedient BACK TO SCHOOL, ear. No longer yon in dull ignorance live of all that is smart and refined: the radio system is harnessed to give a classical twist to your mind. Shun all conversation of hoggets and cows, and butterfat prices forget; the law only one recreation allows —to turn on your radio, set. The former professor now marshals his troops, for organisation's his goal; you all are commanded to listen in groups to things that are pood for your soul. Xo skulking at home by your cozy fireside, with 110 one to see but the wife, if you cut the talks that are Savage's pride, and tune in instead to Will Fyfe. Community listening brinjw you <rood cheer —who cares if the cream should go sour? I>et"s all to the schoolroom in order to hear the cow cockies' cultural hour.—Sinbad.

"Touchstone" writw: Pedantry dies hard. An English writer recently took a leading author up for using the sentence "What we thought or eared about." PREPOSITIONS. <m the ground that no sentence should end with a preposition. The objection was preposterous, for there are many prepositions that are m :«t effectively used at the end of a sentence, and cultured persons often defy the old copybook maxim to show that they are not tainted with pedantry. There are. of course, many careless constructions that ought to be avoided. The Society for Pure English not long ago offered the following dialogue as a warning and a curiosity Sick Child: T want to he read to. Nurse: What book do you want to he read to out of? Sick Child: "Robinson Crusoe." (Nurse goes out and returns with "The Swiss Family Robinson.") Sick Child: What did you bring me that book to be read to out of for?

Pakeha pride had a bad tumble at one of the West Coast beaches during the holidays. While a party of young Aucklandcrs were fishing from the rocks. PRIDE GOETH with indifferent success. BEFORE . . . sevora 1 Ma ori lads arrived and began diving for crayfish. One of tlie fishermen, who was in bathing suit, thought that this looked like better sport than holding a line which the fish seemed to | ignore. and announced that lie was going to "give it n go." The Maoris vehemently warned him against so doing, but he took the warning in bad part, declaring that lie was as good a swimmer, if not a fcetter. than any of them, and rudely accusing them of trying to "hog" the delectable crays. Silent, the Maoris stood back and watched the pakeha take a neat dive into the rollers, while his friends speculated on whether he would bring up two, as the Maoris had been doing, or only one. Hardly had he disappeared, however, before he bobbed up to the surface again, with his eyes bulging and his face dead white and twisted with panic. From the promptness with which they reached down and hoisted him ashore, one would have thought that the Maoris had been expecting just such a reappearance. Not until he had been violently ill did the diver recover sufficiently to tell how. as he dived downward, he saw a long, snake-like arm, studded with suckers, lick out of a crevice in the rocks towards him. Luckily he was just out of its reach and still travelling fast with the impetus of his dive, so that he was able to shoot to the surface again. More courteous than the pakeha had been, the Maoris kept straight faces a* they listened, though, when the tale was finished, they admitted that what had hnppened was just what they expected, and thnt they had been standing ready to go to the assistance of the cocksure one. Their own brown bodies, they said, did not attract the attention of the octopi. of which there were plenty amongst the rocks, but the gleam of a pakeha body was conspicuous. To prove it. one of the Maori lads dived down exactly where the pakeha had done, and came up with a koura in each hand. Incidentally, the Auckland visitors learned that the octopus was in Maori called te wlieke. and as "Te Wlieke" the hardy diver for crayfish has since been known amongst the rest of the party.—T.M. Oh. tnt. tut! Here we Tiave some common sailor men again presenting themselves at the door of a Wellington cabaret. When will these sailors understand JACK TAR. that when there isn't a war on they don't matter? Back in 1014. and the years that followed, the blue uniform (and the khaki one. too) gave the entree anywhere. The only real aristocrat in the community was the man in uniform. Rut times have changed and we have—well, progressed. O common Jack Tar In your raiment of blue. Our cabaret doors are not open to you. Far. far are the days since the shadows of war. Now all but forgotten. were cast on our door: Dim, dim in our memories, faint and remote. I The day that the foe sprang in hate at our throat. And our Maker we thanked as the carnape benan For you, in your raiment of blue, sailor man. Open the scroll of Imperial fame To you where in crimson is written votir name. Open where nlorv eternally falls The doors of Valhalla's memorial halls: And open and Rratefully welcominc vet The hearts of a people who do not forcet What we owe you. Jack Tar. in your raiment of blue Whose cabaret doors are not open to you. Open to us. where eternal the sun Finds no sunset, the oceans vour va'our has won. And boundless to eastward and boundless in west The Empire you gave us—a hero's And heritage gave us of freedom beside I Thsft Britons unfettered micht ever abide. These, these are the doors since our storv bepan You have opened for us. and kept wide, sai'or man. j The which we apree was right handsome of you. Acknowledgment making as only vour due. But a war at the moment seems rather remote. And you're Just a plain sailor on leave from *1 DOfl t« So of uniforms, medals and similar to«h posh l sp ' for the circ,e move in is And to welcome you in—well, it wouldn't just 0 common Jack Tar In your raiment of blue —B.O'X. SHAFTS. A baby weighing 181b has been born in America. This is .alleged to Im* a record, but we understand that .latuuna. when interviewed at the Zoo this n.orning. merelv snorted derisively. • • • Said Mr. X. to . Ir. \ . as he gazed gloomilv from the window yesterday. "Thank goodness 1 did not order a summer suit this .eason I consider myself lucky." "\*ot a« luckv a* your tailor, though.'' was his friend's cuttiti" retort. —B.C.H. ""