THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIX, Issue 228, 27 September 1938, Page 8

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE HEN ABOUT TOWS.)

"Curious" writes: My boy friend and I had a friendly argument the other day over the longest word in the English language. I

; said that it is aptidjs- ! LONGEST WORD, establishmentarianbwn; he ; eaid that he has never » heard of it. Could you please settle it in ■ iyour column. If it is, what does it mean? ! — Yes. so far as T am aware, it is the longest - word in the English language. It mean* a 1 movement against withdrawal of the support 'I of tlic State from an established church. Of 1 course, some say '•smiles" is the longest word, because there is a "mile" between the first and last letters.—Johnny. It's a record. It must be. In fact it was—but that's the story. The first ferry after noon, Saturday, was leaving for Devonport, and every one of IT'S A RECORD, the hundreds waiting for the boat to come in carried a parcel. And yet of all those hundreds of brown-[>aper oddities, the writer who was returning to town by the incoming ferry saw only one. It was done up in brown paper liki; the rest—except that carried by the man with the red-faced, happy grin, who swayed gently ' and at intervals stroked the red claws that j poked out of the newspaper coffin he was carrying. But the parcel noticed was circular, | and therein lay the interesting factor. It caught the onlooker's eye. He focused past the trim figure of the neat little miss in the red gloves; and he looked again. Yes, by Jove, , it was. It was actually a gramophone record. ', (A gramophone, little children, is some ancient machine which used to fce popular long, long ago in the days before wireless.) A record, all right; let us hope he does not go one ( better and break his own record.—Jonah. j The business man who arrived at the J office before his staff and was still there after ! the said staff had gone home to prepare for ! a visit to a picture theatre TOO LATE. or a dance ball remarked, j, as so many others have often remarked, that education is a very good I, tliit>pr. but much of what is taught in the schools to-day is of no use whatever. He ': wondered just how much money it cost to j; teach French in our schools and how many '. people had heard a student on leaving college | speak a single word of the French language. ' The man who had a few pounds to spare and j who was regarded as somel>ody in the city n was expected, he said, to give his family a I] college education, but the result wa6 "not Ji always what was hoped for. He related his I, own experience. He had sold his car, mort- ji gaged his house and land to get the necessarv ] cash to send his son to a university. "And j all he does is smoke, drink and - take girls < out to parties," he said. "So you regret i spending the money on him?" remarked his { friend. "Yes. certainly I do. I should have i gone myself!"— Johnny. <

Dawn was breaking in Chinatown and a chill wind piled Wa Shing's doorway with leaves. "They've had their day—like the pioneers," I said, as, MODERN ART. stooping down, I picked up a handful. "No one wants them now." Opposite a "For Sale" notice napped dismally. Wa Shing pointed. "Him no rentee—too muchee rent restliction." he said. "Houses very cost-Lee," I said, but it was too thick for him. We watched the procession of tired, pale-faced charwomen drag past to their endless toil. "Somebody must keep toiling to help keep the 30,000 abte-bodied tnen who are a charge on the Unemployment Fund," I said, "Prosperity is a paradox, but you're too young to understand." The one good eye of Wa Shing's little yellow god beamed at me as I explained the intricacies of politics. Seizing a pakapoo ticket. I carefullv drew on the back, in ideograms (upside down and from right to left, in Chinese fashion) a perfect nought. "That is what we get—theoretieallv —for our taxes," I said. Outdoing Euclid, I dissected it. "Actually we are cheated of half of this, though," I said. "The other half of this nothing is retained for next year's defence and unemployment." I drew a small circle, with a crowd of dots alongside. "Microphone advertisee," he said gloomily. "Government members—politics behind the headlight—that tiny dot is reallv the headlight—the one with the reversed collar. Five-in-one" they call him." By isolated dots I represented the Opposition trying to pet near; three microscopical dots on the extreme outside revealed • the Independents. Finallv, I drew a verv lar<re 2«. ~ y,n£ , flat on its baok with a headache. Mickee, he looked upset. "Him die*" "Vo hell get over it—he muchee sickee—too niuchee cnticisee—too muchee Adam Hamiltonee manilestoee. I said. Reaching for a newspaper Wa Slung cut out Adam's picture, and. opening a laundry packet, placed it inside and rewrapped it. "Him bling muchee jovec— muchee hopee— maybe," lie said. "Sure" I agreed.—MacClure.

Most people are familiar with the phrase three acres and a cow," and in these times when both the Labour and National ctodi-

«*.»*.<. dateß are sweetheartinar THREE ACRES the farmers hoping to see AND COW. a thick, black line drawn ~ . „ through the name of the other fellow on October 15, it is interesting to know that the policy of smallholdings for farmers was advocated less than one hundred years ago. But it is not a case of "three acres and a cow" with the Labour Government. ±ne .prime Minister has promised some acres some cows, eome bails, some house, in fact the promise he has made is "some" promis? : However, what I wanted to mention is that .tne policy of smallholdings had been carried ,on for centuries among the small-scale 1 | farmers of Flanders, and when Jesse Collins I one of the greatest agricultural politicians of ! the last Ventury, read of this in John Stuart Mills famous book, "The Principles of Political he immediately seized upon it as just what was required to give England's less extensive farmers a sound basis on which to work. Although he was unable to put this famous ideal into practice, Jesse Collins achieved many Parliamentary successes for the farmer, notably the carrying of the Small Holdings Amendment Act of 18S6. in face of the official opposition of the Government. Drawn into politics as a supporter of "Joe" Chamberlain's municipal reform campaign at Birmingham, he entered Parliament as a member for Ipswich in 1881, and was admitted to the Privy Council eleven veare later. Closely associated with the land "reform campaign policy of Joseph Arch, he was for manv years one of the leading lights of the Liberal pa rty.—Johnny.

LONG-DISTANCE COURAGE. jWhen tension of nations is reaching: its height, i How bold are the folk that are not in the fight! Just hear an American critic express The way he would settle the Sudeten mess. Declaring that Hitler is nothing but bluff. , And calling; oti Britain and France to get ' tough. ° «£?,? sissies -" explains this belligerent man Why potter around with a peace-making plan. When one thing alone brings a Nazi to heel— The humbling effect of a taste of co'd steel 'nstead of strong measures, you're saving, your necks ! _-v fawning to Hitler and selling the Czechs." ; Such distant ferocity's all very fine- i ™™,-£ w £. he J wUI nev t er be calle d to the line: Though blood may Be spilt if the shrapnel < should whizz, ilts very unlikely that blood will be his. iwif« ma V, At L the rin K s ide is equally bright > I who yells to the boxers, "Hey. get in and • fight!-- —SINBAD. i