RANDOM NOTES

Dominion, Volume 26, Issue 47, 18 November 1932, Page 10

RANDOM NOTES

Sidelights on Current Events LOCAL AND GENERAL

(By

Kickshaws.)

The simplest way out of the euchre party problem would be to change the name to bridge. • • • A Governor of one of the States of America has made a baby aged six months old into a colonel. It is understood the child joined, the infantry. • • • A business man just back from a trip considers that the only way to bring back prosperity is to spend money. The best way to spend money of course is to get the other fellow to do the paying. • • • “J.M.,” Wellington, sends the following neat journalistic effort. He says:—You may be interested in the following extract from a letter received from a farmer: —“I think the dark clouds are Domlnion-shing. In other words, without wishing to Press the simile too far, we are nearly past the Post, and the brightness of the Evening Star Heralds the ’News of better Times, when the Sun will shine again.” • * * It is said that the oldest car in the procession which will proceed through Wellington today was made in 1902. Investigation proves that this car is not an old car at all. There is indisputable proof that cars existed in the days of Shakespeare, over 300 years ago. If readers doubt this let them turn to “Henry V 1.,” where it is stated in black and white “Here is the Talbot.” If that is not considered proof enough there is a reference in “Macbeth” that reads, “Whence is this knocking,” a problem still topical today in the car world. It must be admitted that there is reason to suspect that cars in those days were not quite perfect. Otherwise why that querulous outburst by a motorist in “Troilns and Cressida, “Will this gear ne’er be mended.” If the machinery was not perfect there is nevertheless evidence that speeding was as bad then as now. This is indicated in the line in “Hamlet,” “O most wicked' speed.” The surest evidence that cars were known in the days of Shakespeare is found in the “Merry Wives of Windsor,” “Which of you know Ford of this town?” Readers may perhaps be able to quote even better proofs.

When one thinks of the curious contrivances that were called ears thirty years ago, it is astounding how the motor-car has developed in the inter vening period. ■ There are to-day so many cars in the world that Americans alone wait thirty years each day for the green traffic light. There are so many cars in the world that in Britain alone nine times as many casualties occur in a year as occurred in the two and a half years of the South African War. But this is not the only proof that the motor-car has arrived. The motor-car has made civilised countries so road-conscious that some countries are now spending one million pounds a week on roads. But the real marvel is that the car has arrived at all. At every explosion that drives the car forward temperatures are generated hot enough to melt iron. As it takes over 6000 of these explosions to cover a mile the marvel is that something doesn’t go wrong more often than it does.

The explanation in the “Woman’s World” recently how a stammering man added the word “Teetotal” to the English language was interesting. Words are added to our language at the rate of 100 a year. At this rate in the life-time of one person 7000 new words have appeared before he is 70 years old. Yet it is often impossible to trace the origins of even comparatively modern additions. In fact more often than not fallacies grow around words until for lack of contradiction the error is taken to be the truth. The origin of the expression “0.K.” has had more fallacies connected with it than any other word, if indeed this expression can be called a word. It is commonly supposed to be an abbreviation of “Orl Korrekt.” In reality it was the stamp of a certain group of rum distillers in Jamaica. So excellent was this brand of rum that came in kegs stamped “0.K.” that it became a byword among traders who asked specially for it. It is therefore pleasant to realise that although the American talkies would be 75 per cent, silent had the expression not been invented, it was a British Colony that originated it.

It is rather alarming to realise that English is changing so rapidly that in some 200 years the language spoken by English-speaking races would be largely unintelligible to us. Some experts think that by then the English language will have split into various dialects.' Out here in New Zealand we may yet be considered the last remaining remnants of a people who still speak pure “Georgian.” For example, until this craze for hiking arrived, anybody possessed with the itch to walk was called a rambler. To-day the word rambler is dying out. In fifty years’ time possibly only the rose will perpetuate the name. To-day there is a tendency to call a “footpath” a “sidewalk.” However much sticklers for pure English may frown unborn generations will probably forget our footpaths. Sidewalk will have ousted the other word. Some people may be sceptical that new words will oust the old. Very well then—two hundred years ago an “idiot” signified a private individual as distinct from one holding a Government position—one up for the Civil Servants.

“Second-Youth,” Wadestown, has sent along the following growing problem. He says:—l am wondering if any of your readers can tell of a similar experience to the following. I am forty years of age. For more than two decades my size in shoes has been nine. Now all at once I find a nine won’t look at me. Nothing under ten will do. Similarly my 154 collars have been pinching my neck so that I have had to consign them to the rubbish bin and invest in size 16J. But this is not the end of it. For a good few years up to a month ago a mere flick of the brush has been sufficient for my scanty thatch. But now I have had to buy a comb to part it, and the spring growth is coming away in great style. Naturally I am wondering what it’s all about. Please tell me am I due for a new set of teeth? • • • Why, why repine, my pensive friend, At pleasures slipped away? Some the stern Fate will never lend, And all refuse to stay. —Landor.