THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIX, Issue 3, 5 January 1938, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MEN ABOUT TOWN.)

Whatever may be the faults of the Englishman, he is at* least thorough —if slow to move. A formal inquest was held recently upon the remains of a ADJOURNED gentleman of pre-historic SINE DIE. vintage. The verdict, which includes the finding that he was dead, added that death occurred about ten thousand years ago, the cause being a wound from a flint arrowhead. Apparently the wound was not self-inflicted, and the police consequently suspect foul play. We can, however, with every confidence, rely on Scotland Yard to seek the offender, and in so doing the Yard, in conformity with the customs of pre-historic man, will leave no stone i unturned. —B.C.H.

Why men fight is an interesting subject and one which has intrigued some of the be<st minds. A foreign aviator caught by the opposing side in Spam, WHY MEN FIGHT, when interviewed by a newspaper reporter, said he was fighting in Spain because he thought the Spanish war was child's play and it would give him the chance to earn a little "easy money which would come in hand because he had a wife and a couple of children _ to Support. It must foe great solace to victims of bombing aviators to know that the bomber is just amusing himself, and that dropping bombs is merely a way to earn a living, just as shooting a man is a business proposition with professional gunmen. Besides, the terrorstricken women and children who flee for their lives when a city is bombed should appreciate that the airman is doin? it for his wife and kiddies. It is just as well the business is not done in Xew Zealand or we should have the Arbitration Court fixing the wages to .be paid, with double rates for overtime and perhaps bonuses for bagging non-combatants. Because, after all, don't forget they have their wives and kiddies to support. —Johnny.

Many Scandinavian words of a pwrely democratic character have been introduced into English—homely expression for things and actions of everyday LOAN WORDS, importance. Unlike French words, which have been borrowed chiefly by the "Upper Ten," Scandinavian lean words are usee? by high and low and their shortness agrees with the monosyllabic character of the native stock of words. Consequently, says Jespersen, they are far less felt as foreign "elements than many French words. "An Englishman," he writes, "cannot 'thrive' or foe 'ill' or 'die' without Scandinavian words; they are to the language what 'bread' and 'egg' are to the daily fare." To this element of his language an Englishman might apply what Wordsworth says of the daisy:

Thou unassuming commonplace Of Nature, with that homely face And yet with something of a grace Which Love makes for thee. —TOUCHSTONE.

Why is it that a woman will rarely, if ever, board a tramcar or bus with the fare in her hand? I dunno. This question particularly applies to women THE FARE. who travel on buses. Take any bus stop— Grafton Bridge—and you will see women waiting there perhaps for ten minutes or more before the bus comes along. Immediately it arrives they step aboard and at once begin fiddling in their bag through a mess of lipstick, handkerchiefs, old letters, keys and spilt powder, in. search of a coin. In the meantime others queue up behind her. And as each woman steps on she goes hunting in her bag. Nine men out of ten will have the fare, or at least a coin, ready to. hand to the driver, but not so a woman. It is bad enough when jthey have the money in a bag, but when they carry it in a purse which is carried inside the I bag—well, I ask you. You know the routine. It goes like this: She opens the bag, takes out the purse, and closes the bag. Opens the purse, takes out the coin and closes the purse. Opens the bag, replaces the purse and closes the bag. Hands the coin to the driver. Then opens the bag, takes out the purse and closes the bag. Opens the purse, places the ticket or change in it and closes the purse. Opens the bag, places the purse in it, and shuts the bag. And then looks round for a seat.—Johnny.

An interesting experiment was recently conducted in Chicago in connection with the infantile paralysis epidemic which kept 300.000

pupils home from school; SCHOOL LESSONS, the lessons were broad-

cast over a six-station radio hook-up. We old-timers remember when radio was for the benefit of the bedridden and the hospitalised, when entertainment was brought to those who could not go out and attend shows and so forth. There were vaudeville acts for the unfortunates and all kinds of amusements. Xow there are vaudeville acts for everybody, but no vaudeville. When a small group in one place can supply the entertainment needs of millions it naturally detracts from the employment of many who were formerly required to supply those needs in person. And now it is being demonstrated that children can be instructed by means of radio when schools are closed. Is it beyond the realms of -possibility that instruction can be standardised, like comedy or anv radio feature, and a small group of teachers supply the educational needs of all the children? Why. of course, it's possible. And will this mean eventually that the teaching profession can do without the personnel it requires at present? Then what will become of the excess teachers? We can answer that one: the same thing that has become of persons in other lines who have lost their positions and savings through technological so-called progress. Besides, if you have a heart, think of it from the standpoint of the kiddies. They have always been hoping the selioolhouse would burn down, and think what a disappointment is in store for them when they learn that all the schoolliouses in the country could burn down and still thev could not escape school.— J.S.

THE HAPPY SUSTENANCE MAN. I'm a sustenance man and I'm proud of it. too. Drawing a generous Government screw. When I had to work the wife had the worry. For I always felt tired and hated to hurry. So once again let us nil give thanks To the men we nut in the Government ranks. For doing: nothing: I draw good cash. May you live for ever, dear Mr. Nash. When the landlord calls for his rent, what fun. I don't assault him or go for a gun. Just smile up my sleeve: verv sorrv I look While he makes a note in the back of his book. To call again on next sustenance dav. When kind Mr. Nash hands out mv next pav. For it's easy to promise, no need to fulfil - Use plenty of sugar when coating the pill. Bj the twist of his mouth and the glare of his eye, The landlord would love to drop down and die. For he can't put me out —I've the law on mv side: There's no need to dodge him, there's no need to hide.

When the windows get shattered or wallpapers torn. And the garden resembles a field of wi'd corn Or Willie plays cricket against the front aoor. It don't trouble me if the' landlord feels sore. —WEARY WILLIE.