THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 236, 5 October 1937, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MEN ABOUT TOWN.)

A journalist friend asks whether in sports report* , it is better to use the word "beat" or "defeat." Usually beat ie the better word, but the Springbok* deDEFEAT. feated the All Blacks at Eden Park. "Defeat" implies something Hearer overthrow or ruin than "beat." For instance, it would not have been quite proper to say that New Zealand defeated South Africa in the first Test match. Beat, as the shorter word, should appeal to a journalist for typographical reasons alone. Another correspondent asks for the pronunciation of intestinal and infantile. The first word is in-tes-ti.nal, with the stress on "tes," and the "tinal" syllables so rapidly run together that almost a "tin" sound results. There is no "tie" sound in the word. Infantile has no "fan" sound. The etress is on "in," as in infant. The last syllable commonly has the wide sound, as in tile. There ie a word with a catch in it, not unlike these two— matutinal. This word has the "tie" sound — matutynal.—Touchstone.

Recent Army manoeuvres in England have called for originality in the nomenclature of the various opposing forces and their commanders. Thus we have IRON RATIONS, the Fourth Guards

Brigade in a tactical scheme quoting an enemy ruler named the Mugwump of Eastland. Thie purely fictitious potentate, according to the scheme of mock battle, was bound by rules of his caste (a) never to travel in a mechanically-propelled vehicle; (b) never to ride a bicycle; (c) never to hurry; (d) never to eat pigs, potatoes, •parrots or porcupines. Commenting on the above, one can only assume as far as (a) and (b) are concerned that Mr. Semple's ideas of protecting the pedestrian have crept into the Army. Regarding (c), the foreign ruler should have every chance of a job with our Public Worke Department. The old gentleman's fourth eccentricity relative to diet restrictions calls for little comment except that the two first items on the prohibited menu suggest another Irish rebellion. The idea of eating j.arrots is, of course, absurd, but thi»re are certainly eome points about the last dish.— B.C.H.

Along the road, standing near the hedge, are two beautiful, white statues. One looks something like Cupid, the other is further away and harder to CUPID AND recognise, but one should PSYCHE, imagine it is Psyche. The

original occupant of the house has long since gone, leaving the statues behind him, and since his departure the house has divided into flats. The sparrows and blackbirds are fascinated by the cold statues, standing so quietly, so white, so impassive. They flutter about them all day; the ehapely heads have become discoloured and stains have appeared on the classic features and limbs. Lately a gardener has taken to scratching the surface of the flower beds; and between times he exchanges philosophies with the passers-by. Hie whimsicalities have become popular with the youth of the neighbourhood, who cry insults across the hedge and watch him stamp vexedly to the gate, retorting in kind. "Fair gives an honest bloke the willies to turn around and find a ruddy stone thing starin' down at your trousers," he complains. "Frightened blazes out of this fella the first time he straightened up and found hisself backing into it. Kind of human in some ways, ain't they mate? You'd be real surprised to know the number of folks that stop and ask who they is, fair dinkum, you would. Meself, I don't like 'em. Too "much like corpses standing there in the sun. Look at the fish eyes—'orrible!" The spring sunshine has been forcing off his coat of late weeks, and he throws it across the knees of Psyche. Then follows his pullover, which covers the noble ihead of Cupid. Cupid continues to gaze . beseechingly at Psyche through the thicknesses 'of pullover, but the effect that the sculptor intended to convey is nullified. Somewhere the artist's spirit rests uneasy at the shocking lack of aesthetic taete displayed by an Auckland gardener.—Albue.

Does long-established friendship excuse minor forgery? May a friend sign his friend's name to a telegram? On a birthday, yes; and here's what hapBIRTHDAY pened—with a very happy GREETINGS, and amusing ending. The

fox hunter knew that the son of the sea would pass another milestone in the "roaring forties" on a certain day recently. They both frequented the same house of call, ami both moved in that direction on morning- of day (being: also birthday) already indicated. Fox hunter expected eon of sea to mention his natal date. His friend had clean forgotten it (a circumstance frequent with the male sex, but not with the female. Our mothers never forget ours, bless 'em, though we often forget theirs). To resume, fox hunter had a brilliant inspiration. He went to the nearest post office and sent a telegram to the man behind the bar in house of call already mentioned. The telegram instructed that drinks should be ordered for a select coterie, mentioning , that he (son of sea) would be in later. Fox hunter signed (or wrote on telegram form) Christian name of hi* friend, so the man behind the bar concluded, naturally, that its origin was authentic. All were imbibing happily when son of sea entered. He was complimented on his birthday, thanked for his hospitality, and confetti was produced in honour of the occasion. Beiivr mystified. as most people would be under such circumstances, he went somewhat haywire when he realised that a telepram had been I sent in his name. But the pearl of the joke I was the remark from the man behind the bar, who produced the telegram, written, of course, by a postal official. "Well," said the barman, "this is your signature, isn't it?" And a visitor from Dunedin laughed heartily when he heard all about it. which only goes to show that thoee of Scottish descent have a sense of humour, despite persistent rumours to the contrary.—Bonverie.

CONSOLATION. To those of the nation Oppressed by taxation, The Rudpret, no doubt, is a jar; Rut still, on the whole. One thought will console — It might have been tougher by far. Still will Mr. Nash Extract your loose cash If owning , a sheep run you are. Whv lose any sleep? Vour mutton is cheap: It mipht have been toupher by far. On income the tax Continues to wax— Perhaps you must lay up vour car; But walking, they say, Ts in fashion to-day: They're not taxing hikers so far. Oh. spendingr's in fashion: They're rtoine your cash in. And Walter is surely a star His tnxiner is deft. But there's still a bit left: So count yourself lucky thus far! —SINBAD. THOUGHTS FOR TO-DAY. After Victory tighten your Helmet cord.— Japanese proverb. Intelligence and courtesy not always are combined. Often in a wooden bouse a golden room we find. —Longfellow.