THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIX, Issue 5, 7 January 1938, Page 6

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MEN ABOUT TOWN.) Some folks have wit when they lie. What is a lie? Simply that which is its own evidence. Lving. as an art. has its own peculiar technique, just as the LYING. more material arte have their subtle secrets of form and artistic method?. A perfect liar is an inventive genius; his aim is to charm, to delight, and to please. Practice in lying precedes perfection. Many a young man starts off in life with the natural gift for exaggeration, which, if nurtured in congenial and sympathetic surroundings, might grow into something really smart. But, as a rule, he sli]*?. i and he either falls into the careless habit of accuracy or takes to frequenting the society of the aged or the well informed. Both these are fatal to the imagination. In a short time he then develops an unhealthy faculty of truth-telling. Far more tolerable is his grandiose and fascinating lies to listen to than hie embarrassing corroborative check-tip in defence of his unreal yarn—the truth! History, even, mak« very heavy weather of the truth. Take the case of George Washing- i ton and the gooseberry bush, for instance. That myth alone has done more harm, and in a shorter space of time, than any other moral yarn in the whole of literature. Here is a myth just as wholesome. In pre-war days it was quite the thing to sport that Kaiserish ' symbol of the Imperial Eagle—an upturned ■ moustache. But one man's moustache in sheer British obstinacy, bucked on one of the points, and with true traditional compromise, one side grew skywards, the other boot wards. 1 This hirsute phenomenon worried the whole 1 world, but the owner, who. upon being taxed about it one bright morning by his ferry boat companion, explained at length that this distinguished growth was. no less attributable than to the constant jamming of one side of . the "mo" between his face and pillow. . Naturally the obvious remedy was to change . sides frequently. But, alas, he could only sleep on one side. "Hm!" retorted his aggressor. "One would have thought that you being a lawyer you would be able to lie on lx>th sides.'"' Moral —bury the hatchet and let's be humane. —E.B. Harry likes fishing, but in common -with many others he likes the briny as smooth as I a sheet of glass. The other day condition? on I the Manukau were ideal, i THE BAG. and Harry borrowed a j chunk of liver, gathered | his sugar bag of ti-hing gear, and rowed outin a dinghy to the South channel. Harry planted a tea-tree stick on the banks a couple of years ago to indicate the best "possit-" to cat-ch fish, and to this stick he rowed, the distance being a couple of miles or more from the shore. Arrived at the spot, he cut up the bait and then felt in the sugar bag for his lines. The first ""line" he brought out was a hammer, then came a small plane and a screwdriver! He bad brought the wrong bag. and there was nothing for it but to haul up the pick and row the couple of miles l>ack again. Fish was not on the menu that night. —Johnny. A paragraph in a Sydney newspaper mentions that a market gardener was fined £12 for unlawfully obtaining- the sum of 1 o ■ by a false pretence. It "ALL THAT appears that the gardener GLITTERS —" had sold a customer a trombone—a kind of vegetable marrow—and <>n taking the vegetable r home the customer found that the trombone, j which had been fading into a pale yellow, had been painted green to give it a ' pii-ked-from-the-vinc appearance. Before lie! was hit to leg for £12 the accused told the { magistrate that he (the grower) did not think j Ihe \va« doing any ham . because women ! I painted their fa e? to freshen them u;>. and : I saveloys were coloured a vivid red to make ■ them attractive. We have all had the experi- j fence of buying from the amnion chips of 1 j strawberries with the 'sr.v lierries crushing to !death the little one? a: the bottom. sa.-k< of .spuds with the bo-sr and bigg.vt o:i top. But j, the snide-t little trick was o;>ei\ited by a !• fruiterer a few years ago in Wellington. He ji ,liad a plum made of lead. Realistically painted ; ! to represent a choice Burbank. this piece of i j'"fruit"' was always fine of the last to go into i 'the bag. Of course, the scale? went down with . a bang, and the fruiterer took out one "plum" j at the same moment as he lifted the bag off j .the scales. The "plum" weighed five ounces.— ! ; -J.S. * j The conversation touched upon dog?. ; j Percy, who dearly loved a joke always at tile j expense of someone else, bad bought a canine '■ lof doubtful parentage and i; ANY SORT. an absence of pedigree.' for a couple of shillings. ■ land set about learning the poodle to do tricks. • : • beginning with teaching the kuri to sit up.! l •Tust as Ixiys learning to play the mouth organ 1 (start with '"Home. Sweet Home." so Jog lovers ' i begin by teaching their animals to sit up. j Charlie, a pal of Percy's, thought it a great jioke. and did not omit to say so. And then ' j one evening there appeared in the "Star"" a I two-line ad. —"Wanted to buy. a dog: any ' Isort. Apply . And tin 1 address was that 'of Charlie. The first salesman arrived with a bob-tailed f"K terrier on a pie -e of string ' before Charlie sat down to .linnet- that evenhm. Wo;,U a foxy suit CiiariieV (. 'i.irlie. :.-:i-•••;»•• * ;of the ad. which was in the jujvr. ewlair.e.l • that he had no time whatever for do_-s. ;J; - I wouldn't give sixpence foj- all the ; o,vll ; v ia it ho Auckland Kennel Club's show. The owner •of the black and white pi ve of dog wantel [to know- what the Charlie meant bv adverjtising if he didn't want a dorg. C'u--t ;■-lis [were - :ed and answered. ami the "•■da:" jproduoeu. That evening men. women and V- >v? (arrived every half-hour or ?,%. >üb"a itting for Charlie's approval dogs of all -"a.';-'-. >-'10-:rs land size?. You dare not month a d ; j Charlie now.—Johnny. | SKELETON STAFF. ! When skies are blue and each d.-.y i< a broiler, j Rays ultra-violet turning you brown. ; Think of the lot of the poor, luckless toiler. | Whose occupation still keeps him in town. | Clerks, bakers or doctors, pola emr n or ; postmen. ! Plodding on pavements th.it burn wi'h t'a i heat. Stifling in rooms that wuuld suit'ocate most | men— ! Hail to the heroes that dai.v we m. •t" ! ! ! Though they may long for the great ope:; ; spaces. ' i . Where on the beaches the breakers are I hurled. : 'Coatless. inform"! in shirt sleeves avd braces. See them niaintaininc the work ot the i 1 world. " " I Vainly they're dreaming of cool alpine valleys ' | Sparkling with rivulets fresh. from the ' ! snow— Sadly each day through the hot dusxv a I lev.-- ; : Back to the burden of toil they must etc. ' Trippers, returning, tell jubilant stories, j All that they did while the weather w-> < I hot: : ; Home from the mountains, replete with their | glories— How ail the stay-at-homes chafe at thei--o lot. " ' | i Theirs is my svmpathv—warmlv I've -tin-- ■ them: " . Yet._tl-.oui;!-. th---:r pr-.-,-nt misf rtunes n-ay ! Later they'll travel <aml r;> he am'-nc tb.-m > ' . Off on their leave while the others must i' 1 work. —SIXBAD." |i