POSTSCRIPTS

Evening Post, Volume CXV, Issue 63, 16 March 1933, Page 10

POSTSCRIPTS

Chronicle and Comment

BY PERCY FLAGE

This feature's chief objection to another war is that we would have to. suffer another world peace all over

again,

«■ i *

In England and Australia Governments take the people into their confidence. In this country our leaders tend to take the confidence out of the

people.

""Winsh" once again: Paradoxical as it might seem, none of these irritating legislative restrictions come up to

scratch.

That Bill in the Commons, whick aims at the establishment of prtca equilibrium, is timely. Something is needed to take the dizziness out of

business.

ORIENTAL BAY-THERS.

Dear Percy Flage,—

Apropos that choice Oriental Bay item, re making both ends meet. Here's another to add to your repertoire. Time: a Tvarm Sunday afternoon. As far as the eye can see are sun-tanned figures with as Tittle covering as pos ; sible, lazing, dozing, or .reading. Suddenly, "Up with your togs, boys; here's the 'John'," ripples along the line of sun-worshippers. The majestic aim of the law heaves in sight at the far end of the beach, and lo and behold, when that gentleman strides along the sand, everybody looks sufficiently clad to satisfy a maiden-aunt. The policeman passes on, and five minutes later the bea«h regains it exposed eomposura, N.F.H.

THE DEAE LITTLE SHAMROCK.

"Wear a bit of Irish green . On St. Patrick's Day! Let not de Valera's spleen Turn your heart away! Tell me—but for Irish pluck, "Where would Britain be? Theirs the wit, the dash, the luck, And the eye to see.

"Wellington! Your patron saint "Will, I think, be found (May the record ne'er grow faintl)' Born on Irish ground. Give another "Mick" a thought (Nelson, was his name), "Who, "by various fights he fought, Starred the race with fame. ■■-

Kitchener. and well-loved '' Bobs'' Saved our arms from scorn; Names like theirs time never robs; Both were^lrish "born; Curious thing—when all are gone, Save their honours 'won, England claims them for her own. Every mother's son!

One could write a yard or so Of this Irish stuff; Percy wouldn't stand it, though "Wherefore, "Hold—enough!"

CRYPTIC PENMANSHIP.

Anent bad penmanship^-amd peopl are for ever talking about ours—a story is told by a friend of the lata Dr. Rutherford "Waddeli, for many years editor of the New Zealand "Outlook." The doctor was an exeerabla penman. On one occasion, with a lugubrious smile, he showed a friend an article that in the MS. he fead. headed;' 'No Cross, No Crown. '' It appeared with the startling title, "No Cows, No Cream"! So we have suffered with the truly great, which is some consolation.

CONSCIENCE MONEY.

That cleric who returned his dividend on some investment because, as a matter of principle; he did not believe in interest payments, recalls this story, a thoroughly truthful story, of another gentleman with a real, if belated, conscience. Last month the stationmaster at a London suburban station received a letter enclosing 5s 6d in .payment of a railway fare to Peterborough. The journey was taken, -without payment, as far back as 1881. One commentator remarked that if tha sender were auditing his accounts before applying for admittance to Heaven he had overlooked the -small matter of interest. Compound interest on "even 5s 6d over a period of 52 years would add a tidy sum to the original debt. :

MORNING TEA MONOLOGUE. Such goin's on at Crystal Brook! I wish I could of 3ad a look At Mr. Forbes an' all hees crowd Around the table sittin' proud, Jest frothin' for the old scout's sake To see 'im carve hees birthday cake. An' when the time came 'c would rise, A twinkle in hees shaggy eyes, While mothef-V-the girls the whila Would break into an 'appy smile, '" An' lift their glasses one by one To wish 'im much more lots full ' Than ?e 'as 'ad since, as I feared, The silver linin' disserpeared, An' Britain • went orf gold, vrMcK showed A lion in our path, or road.

The P.M.'s 64 they tell— My word, but 'c is wearin' well.

Hees lived a 'omely life, I 'ear,- -v Farnrin'-'n'-footer, with, I fear, "■>, A "spot" or two occasion'Uy iit , Bather the same as you or me. "■'• I wonder what hees presens was (Ed suro 'aYe lots of them), 156008 One that 'c needed most, I guess, Was a nice fold-up trousers press. It's worried me, to .say the least, To sec hees- pants so long uncreated. If clothes do make the man, I'll sayGeorge ain't begun to get that way.' Tomorrer, strange as it may seem" I'm goin' to follow Clifford's team. .- . * ♦ » PHAB LAP—AND BLACK SWAST. With the Wellington fleeting looming, this story may have an increased interest for readers who follow Turf diversions and pursuits. What was the greatest horse race ever run in the States? Moderns will vote for Phar Lap's sensational performance at Aqua Calieute. Here are particulars of an. old-timo contest which has,' to our mind, more heroic qualities—it is assumed that the story is based on fact. The race referred to was run in California in 1552, the contestants being PlO Pico's Sarco, the undefeated champion of the cow country, and Jose Sepulveda's Black Swan, imported all the way from Australia to challenge him. The battle was "ballyhooed'-'- (aa they say) throughout the State, ana thousands flocked to the "track" to witness the match. The official stakes were 25,000 dollars in cash, 500 mares,: 500 heifers, 500 calves, and 500 sheep. "This race," says the raconteur, '«wa3 not one of your ridiculous modern fivefurlongs sprints. These noble steeds raced nine miles, starting on San jPedro Street, near the 'city limits,' and running four and one-half miles to town and back again. The Pico entry; took the lead. At the seven-mile pole, however, Black Swan, getting his second wind, shot past Sarco, and from, then on it was just a 'breeze' for the Swan. Pico's nag had looked great in competition with the ordinary ranch horses, but against the Australian speed-demon he resembled a milk-wagoa plug," ...... .3 ?