THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 154, 1 July 1937, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MEN ABOUT TOWN.)

On all sides, it is agreed, in these days of rising prices, one finds it hard to make ends meet. Even those who dabble in crime or

in a minor way put denta by-laws experience

TIME TO PAY. in

difficulty in unearthing the fines which the Courts see lit to impose. Invariably when a law-breaker is magisterially required, to part with a "quid" or so as payment for his pranks he asks to be allowed time to pay. There are the exceptions, of course. Kemember the chap who had started a street brawl, and when lined up before the beak next morning was fined a fiver. Thinking he would beat the accused to it, the magistrate asked if time was required to pay. •".No." Paid the accused. "A fiver is nothing. I've got it in my pocket." "And seven days." came back his Worship. "Have you got that in your pocket?"— Johnny.

"Touchstone" writes: That browser among words and names, Ernest Weekley. ha-s discovered that "various pestilent and thorny growths in New Zealand

ON PESTS. are known as Scotsman. Irishman and Spaniard." The observation is true enough of the Wild Irishman and the Prickly Spaniard, though the-se names are never used without the adjective; but what is a Scotsman? Possibly the author refers to thistles, but if so, this is new to "Touchstone." Can any reader throw light on the subject? The Californian thistle is certainly a great pest in some localities. Harry Lauder tells the story of one of his hosts, to whom he said quite innocently, "I suppose you have a good many Scotsmen about here." The reply was, "Oh, yes, but our chief trouble is rabbits."

it was not an engine driver disputing the right of way with a signalman. That was soon settled. But not so the whistle;

it still continued. Those WHISTLE. WHY? within half a mile of the

Auckland railway station paused at 7.20 last evening. As the whistle became more insistent they became curious. It couldn't be a send-off to the first Wellington express to run late —though up to time— on the new schedule. That had happened ten days apo and the Wellinjrton station staff were still recovering from the effect. Was it the railwaymen announcing a strike, or attempting- to equal Mr. Semple's expressiveness? It was none of these things. After five minutes when the whistle became tired and silent, a reporter, in search of n storv. 'phoned the station and found—that the whistle had jammed. Such was the rather curt reply.—J.W.G.

At the Tauniarunui Show the weijrlitjudging competition of six sheep resulted in a tie. The actual weight was 4821b and the

winners guessed 481 Jib. SAME TO EWE. To the layman it would

appear that the prizewinners had overlooked a fore or hind quarter. Such competitions are usual at country functions. but I well recall a certain Takapuna church bazaar which boasted not only the usual "home made jam and pickle" stalls but also an outdoor attraction in the form of an overgrown and much bedraggled sheep. The patrons of the bazaar were accosted by the animal's keeper with exhortations to "guess the weijrht for a l>ob.'' The friend who had accompanied me to the ecclesiastical rally was neither a farmer, a churchgoer nor a tactician. He was. however, a criminal lawyer who could afford to be killed for a sheep as for a lamb. Recklessly throwing a shilling to the keeper he entered his estimate as "5001b." Two minutes later a charming: lady, noted for her ardent social activities and excellent culinary attributes, approached us bearing an iced plum cake. "Oh, Mr. 5.." said she. "do give me sixpence and guess the weight of this lovely cake. I made it myself." The cruel-minded Mr. S. took the cake. and. rrravelv poising it for a moment, replied, "Put down 'the same as the sheep.' " —B.C.H.

Truly when asleep the mind runs wild and veers off into weird channels. In the tramcar this morning a toiler whispered into the ear of your's affecTHE LAUNDRESS, tionatelv a dream he had

last night. After hitting the pillow he was transported to London, hut. strange as it seems, although in that gTeat metropolis, he was walking down Hobson Street. Auckland. And he was looking for his wife. In some manner he and she had lost each other in the busy throng—it reallv couldn't happen in Hobson Street. He thought of giving the police a ring, of getting the ft.B.C. to send out an S.O.S. over the radio, and then suddenly remembered that before lie married his wife used to earn a living in a laundry. As lie strolled down Hobson Street he stopped. There in front of him was a shop with the sign ' Little Lily's Shoe Shop."' But it didn't look like a shoe emporium to him. The shutters were up and there was an odour attached to it that made it suspect of a laundry. So he went in. And behold! There she was. Happy? No. The lost wife was using the most lurid language- She had gone back to her girlhood occupation and was ironing a shirt—oll a wire mattress.—Johnny. T like the self-sufficient fellows, the sort of chaps who get things done and don't need the help of anybody else to get them done. I spent a pleasant hour or FLOPPED so the other Sundav morning watching one of them at work. A snappy sort of chap, with quick, crisp actions and 110 pauses or indecision 11 1_ any part of it. "I think.' he said to me, "I'll drop that wireless pole." It was one of those forty-foot things, and the idea of jusi the two of us essaying the task of lowering it was not attractive. 1 said so. "What d'you mean—two of us?" said he. It appeared I was all wrong. There was to be no two of us about it. He, and he alone, was going to diop that radio pole. He explained, to me liow that, sort of thing could be done, singlehanded. There was just nothing to it, provided you knew the way to go about it. You did this and that with the side guvs, and arranged pulleys here and there, and' then vou just pulled a bolt out from the base post and the contraption sank gently to earth. So I cot 011 with my smoking—but moved to a slightly safer distance while he got on with the perfectly easy job of demonstrating how one man could play about with a fortv-foot pole. He did all the things he had said lie would do, and finally gave the pole a shiver, and then it commenced to move slowly towards the giound. I don t quite know what went wrung with the arrangements, but as soon as that pole found itself free to drop it did dro! — a very literal drop, just as a tree drops in the forest. The pole wasn't harmed. There were clothes lines in the wav to mitigate the severity of its final flop. * H„t one of the clothes lines snapped. A pole supporting the other broke off at ground level. The spectacle of wreckage suggested a tornado. A wife appeared from within, fixed a steelv eye on those devastated clothes lines, and then transferred the steely gaze to the efficient one. The last I saw of him he was patientlv fixing up the clothes lines.—B.O'N. *

THOUGHTS FOR TO DAY. Defend your reputation, or bid farewell to your good life for ever.—Shakespeare. - J*® l ' work for others as you would others work for you, vou would never be out of a job.—Anon. 1 wo " to get our kindnesses done while they do good, giving cheer and encouragement, and uot keeping them back till there is no need for them.—J. R. Miller. u " thy converse be sincere.—Bishop