THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 234, 2 October 1937, Page 8

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MEN ABOUT TOWN.) The Police Court is often the scene of amusing interludes—particularly when old "lags" are being put through their paces. A certain gentleman of this DOCK LEAVES, ilk is known as "the Major." His love for alcoholic stimulants culminated in his outstripping all contestants in the matter of convictions. In fact his "list" took up so many pages that the police were seriously thinking of sending it to a bookbinder. When being escorted into the police station he would mechanically call out "Shop." The Major was seventy-three, and looked it. One fine morning he stepped into the dock to answer the familiar charge of breaking his prohibition order. "I have decided to send you to the inebriates' island," said the magistrate. "Have I your permission to visit my home before leaving for the island, sir?" "Certainly not," replied the Bench. "Why do you want to do that?" "Oh," said the prisoner, as lie turned to re-enter the cells, "just to break the news to mother."—B.C.H.

I expect you have had in this column since last Saturday the recounting of a good many incidents about the match. I feel, however, that the plight of IN THE JAM. this young lady cannot

pass without mention, for I have not heard a better story. It was in the dense throng on the hill, just before the beginning of the match. Men and women were jammed there—so,ooo people will know just how tightly, and whenever one part surged everyone did. Well, just when this wave of humanity was breaking a man heard a panting female voice whisper, "Hold these," and he felt an umbrella and a purse thrust into his hand. He held as directed. Then he squeezed himself round to find who the donor was. He found a young damsel in distress. She was fiddling about, clutching something desperately and seeminsr afraid to let anything else go, or do anything about it. She had good reason. Men may lose a hat or a handkerchief, or a glove in a crowd; but only a poor female could be unfortunate enough to lose what this young woman had—her skirt!— Jonah.

The publication of the acceptances for the Xew Zealand Oup, to be run at Riccarton in November next, recalls a fact, which might . _ not be generally known, DECIDED AT that when the turf in ELLERSLIE. Xew Zealand was in its

infancy the Xew Zealand Cup was on one occasion decided at Ellerslie. The following year the race was carded on the Canterbury Jockey Club's programme and has remained the big Riccarton attraction ever since. By the way, there is in Auckland to-day one sportsman who claims to have seen every Auckland Cup run, and as the race was instituted in 1874 he should know his Ellerslie. The sportsman is Mr. W. E. Hackett, for many years a leading light in the legal profession, and who can be included among the best all-round sports. He was a fair runner, but never quite good enough to cover a sideboard with trophies. At billiards he ha« played almost as prominent a part as the black hall in snooker, and he can still hold his own and get a cheap game occasionally when somebody who thinks himself above the r _ a P e challenges "Billy" to a 'iindred up. Billy will (D.V.) see another Auckland Cup on Boxing Day next.—Johnny.

Mr. E. J. Howard, arrived back from his Coronation visit simply bursting with intellectual beans, suggests that his Labour a colleagues should confer A TITLE. a title on the High Com-

| _ miesioner, Mr. W .T Jordan. It is not nice, he says, to hear other dignitaries on the occasion of high ceremonial announced as Lord So-and-so and Sir Somebody Something, and the New Zealand Hi Hi Commissioner described as simply "Bill Jordan." We agree, and think it right that Mr. Jordan should be spared the indignities that must be suffered by such untitled people w n aV€ T^- 0y Geor g e - Geordie Bernard Shaw. VVally Elliot. Tony Eden. One is reminded f Lamb s whimsical imasrininsr of himself rising in the social scale: first plain Lamb and then on to Mr. Lamb, C. Lamb, fcsq Sir Charles Lamb, Lord Lamb. Duke Lamb. Kinj Lamb, Emperor Lamb. Perhaps Mr. Howard, being a literary fellow, has been re-reading his "Elia." and has visions of his friend s becoming ultimately King William the r irst of New Zealand.—Twelve Bar.

| The gambling spirit, we are Informed from time to time, is born in us; and trite people tell us that even life is a gamble. I heard a couple of youngsters the BETTING. other day disputing hotly about some matter, the exact character of which T did not ascertain Said one of them: 'Til bet ver a hundred pounds. 1 hat didn't stop the other. "I'll bet you a thousand pounds," quoth he. raisin" the ante dramatically. Pretty soon thev had reached the millions, and that last of the e x nt 7 heard . V s the remark of-the first: 1 11 bet yer a trillion trillion pounds." There seems to be something satisfactory about betting the other fellow—it is the "dare" reduced to monetary terms. In a more niaybe, all arguments were settled by physical combat, and it was not until the race became "civilised" that it started to commute physical chastisement for monetary loss. I have seen grown men bettiii"on a snail race, and I have seen them on the progress of a couple of chips of wood floating in some water in the gutter. Which goes to prove that some men will bet on anything at all. The facility with which children express themselves in betting terms seems to indicate some support for those who declare that the gambling instinct is born in us There are, of course, exceptions. There are some people who regard life as possessing sufficient uncertainty itself, without adding to it bv extraneous means. Until, of course, the races come along and then, like evervbodv else, they feel the urge to have a little 'flutter It s no use risrhteous persons popping up to tell me that I m wrong and that thev never never feel the urge to bet. even if thev are at the races. Of the people who ?o to the races there is not one in a thousand who goes just to look at the horses. So what hope is there ever of reforming us?—B.O'V

MASEFIELD. Touchstone ' writes: A master can make the monosyllables ring, wrote Robert Blatchford in "English Prose and How to Write It." His advice is to read the poets. Here is a sample from John Masefield's. '-Reynard the Fox" of the eloquent use of simple words: Behind them rode her daughter Belle, A Strang? shy, lovely girl whose face Y™ with thought and proud with race And bright with joy of riding there. one was as good as b'owing air But shy and difficult to know. ' The kittens in the barley-mow. The setter's toothless puppies sprawling The blackbird in the apple calling. Ail knew her spirit more than we So delicate these maidens be In loving lovely helpless things. A THOUGHT FOR TO-DAY. Chafing under what seems to be unfavourable environment is often due to one's unwillingness to bestir oneself.—F. de Witt iJohn.