THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 301, 20 December 1937, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MEN ABOUT TOWN.) There is nothing like giving anything you are asked to do a go. Of course, you may know full well you cannot do it, but there is always the possibility of a fluke. IGNORANCE Apparently some pupils CLUB, of the Cornwall Park School believe in this, because in the school magazine and under the heading of "Our Ignoranc* Club" appear the following answers to questions: "Heat is caused by comical action"; "may we the song without the discount" (descant) the remarkable point about the kiwi is that it lias no teeth"; "feminine of buck —buckshce' ; "masculine of duchess —wash-stand." Student teacher holding up red litmus pa|>er: "What have I here?" Pupil: "Chewing gum, miss."— Johnny. Two Maes, bearers of historic Scottish names, forgathered in a local hostelry the other day, and, as they had not met for several years, it was quite an SCOTS OR IRISH? occasion. In the course of the conversation, naturally of the "D'ye remember?" variety, Mac the First recalled the visit of the Alexander Mission (of "Glory Song" fame) to Xew Zealand nearly forty years ago. Then it was that present paragraphist, a mere Sassenach, began to wonder whether Mac was Scottish after all, for he said: "Oh, ye wouldn't remember rt. Ye weren't here then. I was —I was in Melbourne at the time." And later on he provided more evidence that might have been used in favour of a theory of Hibernian ancestry. The talk had turned on snakes, and it was interesting, for both old-timers were well acquainted with the wilds of Australia. Mac the First was describing the methods adopted for first aid in case of snake bite, and he explained that in many parts of the island continent instruction is given to school children on this important subject. "Aye," he said, "they even teach the kiddies first bite to the injured. I tell ye, it's a grand thing." Possibly first aid might be grander. —Bouverie. Eddie eee-ms to hare started what might be, when His Xibs grows up, that long-overdue •revolt of New Zealand readers and Xew Zealand authors against the LITERARY worship in the Dominion REVOLT, of a Muse that died of senility years ago on the other side of the world. It happened thuslv: Daddy went for % trip in Eddie's boat; Eddie pointed out a tall pinnacle of rock in the Rangitoto Reef, which, according to Maori legend, is an ancient Tamaki chieftain who stands gazing seaward awaiting the return of his only son, who went out into the gulf on a fishing trip centuries ago, and never came back. Xcxt time he took the family to the beach daddy pointed out the petrified ariki and retailed the story. Since then daddy has not had much peacc, and in the eyes, of his family he is a failure. When the demand goes up, "Daddy, tell me a story," Daddy reaches towards the bookcase for one of the battered friends of his own childhood, Grimm. Aesop and Anderson. But a loud protest checks him. "Xo, daddy, no. Tell me a storv about a Maori chief." But of stories about Maori chiefs daddy's stock is extremely limited —so daddy is in disrepute. Still, it is a healthy s-ign; the infant revolt against Old World literature, in favour of that of his native land, will be diligently fostered—as soon as daddy can raise the requisite for the purchase of a book of Maori stories. His Xibs' generation will then, so we might hope, their inspiration in Xew Zealand instead of in England, and their figures of speech in the Maori language instead of in the Greek and Latin. Such a revolt will have onlv one drawback. The outpourings of our spring poets will not be nearly po amusing to read when they cease from borrowing ready-made metaphors from the minor Victorians; the way they get our seasons all back to front by so doing makes some of their effusions delightful reading, even if tliev are appallinglv bad natural history.—l.M.

It is ibout this time of the year, with the Auckland racing carnival commencing a week hence, that men who give much of their time to the study of horse DREAMERS. racing, invariably a most

, , expensive study, retire to bed o nights hoping that in their slumbering hours they will dream the winner of the Cup. There are at Devonport to-dav many racegoers who remember the year SanU Rosa and Gipsy Belle won the Cup and Railway double. A couple of weeks before the meeting the wife ; of a Devonport resident told her husband that in a dream she had seen Santa Rosa and Gipsy Belle win. Being a good sport, the husband ba<*kc<l the double to win well o\ er £1000. and told all hits friend* about the dream. Thev heeded him not. As the «reat dav drew near there were rumours that Gipsy Bcl] e would not start in tile Railway, and the backer began to hedge a little. He laid a couple of hundred , off, but st ill had the double going fur a solid amount, when (Jipsy Belle. after" Santa Kwa had won the Cup earlier in the afternoon, came out and took tlie trick in the Railway. The best winner was one of Wellington's then bi<*pest bookmakers who wa« in Auckland that week. lie laid the double to the Devonport backer for a few hundreds, and after Santa Rosa had won sent a friend to place £.10 on Oipsy Belle in the Railway to insure himself. Acs (tipsy Belle paid in the vicinity of half a hundred on the totalisator. the ' Wkmaker was as pleased as the backer of the double. This it* one of the dreams that came off. There is also the case of the chap who dreamt No. S) won the Cup. He had had a restless night, and when he woke up his head was at the foot of the bed and hi* feet on the pillow. However, he had. in his dream, seen No. 9 hoisted above the judge s l>ox. He supported his dream with the greatest confidence, but to his dismay the winner was No. fi. The poor chap had failed to realise that had he been sleeping with his head, instead of his feet. 011 the pillow the number above the judge's : box would have appeared as No. ti.—Johnny.

"SO SORRY." ■Whene'er one offends. In makinp amends They've .1 curious way in the OriKnt. for in their viewAll one has to do Is say. "My mistake—very sorry." ou'd like to he boss Where pedestrians cross. So knock a man down with your lorrv— 1 ou'vc only to say In a Japanese way. "I bep you excuse it—so sorry.'' Some man von detest: A ou think him a pest— Well, throw a few bombs in his whare; The Court will acquit And smile at vour wit If onJy you murmur, "So sorry." So we must expect In future, unchecked The vulture will swoop on his quarry And only take pause As he dips in his claws To smirk with a silky. "So sorrv." —SINBAD. THOUGHTS FOR TO-DAY. I have never seen the good of giving incept"^beHar ,etl,ing aUa - VS * Judge thyself with judgment of sincerity, and thou wilt judge other* with a judgment of charity.—Mason. 0