THE PASSING SHOW.

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 23, 28 January 1939, Page 8

THE PASSING SHOW.

(By THE MEN ABOUT TOWN.)

Fantastic-looking documents are in evidence as the result of the import restrictions. The "writer was shown one

recently. On an enormous GETTING sheet of paper various THE BIRD, signs and symbols appeared, and the printed and written matter was in three languages. It might have been anything from the Declaration of Independence to a double chart. It was, in fact, a Certificate of Origin, and it applied to canary seed which came from Turkey. Whether such a license is granted by our Government, Ido not know. Possibly a merchant applying for a permit to import canary peed from Turkey may be told, "No, but we will allow you to import turkey seed from the Canaries." Who knows ? —B.C.H.

Wc have often heard the question propounded, "Where do the flies go in the winter time?" A companion to this might well be, "Where do jokes JOKES. "come from How many funny stories do we read and hear, and yet how many of tis have received them first-hand from the authors of them ? Of course, we know that jokes against Aberdonians and a certain make of car emanate from the supposed butts of them, being, indeed, a shrewd advertising move, and there are jokes also of the chestnut variety whose origin is lost in antiquity. For the rest, however, there are countless jokes invented, seemingly only yesterday, but which might have been spontaneously generated as far as the trace of an author is concerned. I have met only one man who has confessed to having composed a joke. This he cast upon the anecdotal waters, and in the course of a few weeks it got back to» him again.—J.O.H. Not very long ago a burglary was reported in Auckland and the manager estimated his loss at well over £100. The thief, when caught, expressed surprise DOLLARS at the value, as he conTO PEANUTS, sidered all he had helped himself to would not be worth more than £40. And now I have before me a paragraph clipped from an American newspaper reporting that a peanut stall had been visited by thieves, and, so the manager said, 7-> dollars in cash collected. A footnote by the editor goes on to say that a letter signed "Dillinger" had been received by the Chief of Police asking for a retraction. According to "Dillinger" the cash taken was only .40 dollars, and as the "boys" were expecting 7-i dollars to be shared equally he would be 20 dollars out of pocket if he paid them off.—Johnny.

A concerted move should be at once mad.> by all classes of the community and a conference arranged (the Minister of Internal Affairs seems the logical LOVE DETECTORS, chairman) to wait on Mr. Xash to absolutely prohibit under any conditions whatsoever the importation into our free land (sic) of either the Pneumograph or the Sphygmomanometer (this latter try in spelling is a "nasty bit of work"). For the benefit of those of your readers who do not read the cable news I should explain that these feasome instruments are "love detectors," and, allied to a series of questions, furnish a scientific test for marital relations. They are obviously dangerous contraptions, and, as the inventor claims, they work better on the weaker, or more emotional, sex. Goodness knows what is in store for the mere man. Why, one was tried on a "he-man" aviator and he nearly broke the instrument. Fancy the reaction of the busy business man's typiste! Mr. Xash, in the interests of home life in this fair Dominion—well, I ask you?—J.W.W.

London, in ease you don't know, is in England, which, as Mr. Savage stated the other day, is "a mere speck in the North

Sea." Bill Cherrill ha« a FINGER PRINTS, brother there, and Bill'-?

brother is as keen as you are on saving democracy, old England's rock of ages, from crumbling. When Bill was in to see me yesterday he told me all about his Coronation trip and of how lie called to see this brotlfer, whom he found hard at work "saving democracy" his own way. Scotland \ard never sleeps. A million criminals' finger prints, London's criminal population, had been swelled by an overseas army of crooks, and London was full of very important personages who needed guarding day and night. Every single crook had to be accounted for. Fred initiated Bill into the mystery of finger-print identification, explaining "cores," "deltas." "arches," "composites," "accidentals," as well as "loops"—twinned, lateral, radial and ulnor. To Bill it was all double-Dutch. It gave him a headache. After he left me I wiped mv own linger marks off my glass. One never knows.—MacClure.

THE PRESIDENT'S HAT. It is said of John Quincy Adams, President of the United States, and the most shabbilydressed man ever to hold that office, that he once wore a hat for ten years. You gentlemen who buy a hat At least once everv vear. This story of a President May be surprised to hear. When John Q. Adams bought a tile It lasted him for years. A "potae" once adorned his head A decade, it appears. °f this I am quite convinced. That John's domestic life Was stormy if ten-yearlv hats He thought would do his wife! —C.M.J. X the par. about races being started before the proper starting time, some thirty-five years ago the first race at Ric- . carton, a hurdle race, was OVER AGAIN, started five minutes before time, and the starter (the late Harry Piper) was fined a "fiver" and the race was rerun after the eighth event of the day. Those who wished obtained a refund in full of their investments and the balancc was rung up and the machine reopened for further betting on the second attempt. I do not recall whether the same horse won again, but I do know that in the first race I had a pound on a candidate that was as dead as Julius Caesar. During a very lengthy racing career that was the first and only time I ever got square on a "stumer."—McT. THE GARB OF OLD GAUL. Scots wha hae in earnest tones Wooed the era of Freddie Jones, Triumph in the city zones, For he heeds their plea. See the waggle o' the kilt Show how Scotland's sons are built, While the bagpipes' stirring lilt Leads to victory! Noo's the day and noo's the hour— How invaders' hopes grow sour At this show of Hielan' power In a Southern land! Mussolini's not so gay. Hitler says he will not play, Nippon looks the other way— What a noble band! Wha would such a boon refuse. And with craven spirit choose To appear in khaki trews Marching on parade? J Tartan troops, five hundred strong, ' Sing a Gaelic battle song To a cheering city throngHail, the Scots Brigade! —SINBAX>. I