BY THE WAY

Evening Star, Issue 20636, 8 November 1930, Page 2

BY THE WAY

[B, Q.V.]

“ Tho time ha« come,” the Walrus said, '* To talk of many things.” Are there any signs that the boom in roller skating is waning? A pro portion at least of its one-time devo tees appear to bo now devoting thei time and talents to midget golf, wide for all.we know may be an exceller substitute, though it is said not t be so healthful as digging the gard< in readiness for the summer sowin; Unstable as water, the public in Du edin, as erstwhile in Athens, is evseeking some new thing. It takes a something, converts it into a craz drops it, takes up something else, a: in the end generally goes back to i first love. Forty years or so ago roll skating raged in Dunedin like tin Leith in high flood. At an hour befor most people nowadays have arisen fron their beds the rinks wore open aim filled. Long after honest folks retir. at present the roar of the rollers coulci be heard in the land. Not to skate was to proclaim oneself as entirely lack ing in,the finer social instincts. Then, if we remember rightly, cam© the royal game of ping pong. There were several public tournaments and in numerable private ones. We cannot recall what silly ephemera lived between ping pong and;Mah Jong, or between Ma Jong and bridge, but tin cycle has been completed l by the re- 1 appearance of the roller skates once more.

* *, « * , I recollect in youthful days, Which now appear much cheerier, I used to have unhealthful ways Of filling my interior. , Sour apples were the chief or these. Stone fruit of great acidity. Raw carrots and uncooked green peas I swallowed with avidity. It tasted good, This lawless food I found about the premises, Until it brought A painful sort Of dietary Nemesis. My mother, when she found this food my anatomy, Uncorked the castor oil, and would Insist on giving that to me. Its virtues in my case, I own, ’ Were purely hypothetical, Because I couldn’t keep it down. Its action was emetical! The stuff, although Cold drawn, and so “Quito tasteless” on the bottle, i Beheld with dread, And as I read The label murmured “ What a he I I sometimes got the strap as well, And, doubtless, to my benefit; For chastisements that fetch a yell Will, just as well as any, fit The case, when mothers are annoyed By juvenile delinquencies. They teach the youngsters to avoid Transgressions that they think on© sees. A little chap Won’t love the strap, But still, if you should miss it, you d Repent this lack Of “ paddy-whack ” And motherly solicitude. So when I hear of States that deal Out castor oil and chastisement, I hope that all the victims feel This disciplining as ’tis meant. Though oil invites my gorge to rise, And whackings, hurt infernally, They’re not inflicted otherwise Than kindly and maternally. So, German “Ed’s,” Don’t lose your heads When Hitler holds them over you; But just endure, It’s all his pure Disinterested love for you!

* « * » The opponents of the present English Labour Government have been much heartened by the results of the municipal elections, which are generally supposed to give a line on the General Election. It may be that this is correct, but those who prophesy the downfall of the Labour Party from these passing events are much mistaken. Take our tip. Year by year the Labour Party will increase in strength. Session after session it will gain in power and experience, till at last it will take complete control, for better or worse, and . there is no inherent reason why this should not. be a very good thing. Our main objection to the Labour Party is its choice of a name. Why Mr Ramsay MacDonald’s Government should cal] itself “ Labour ” we cannot say. So far as the Cabinet is concerned, most of its members are comfortably—some .very well-off, and few have been acquainted with manual toil at first hand. Their weakness lies mainly in the fact that they are too bookish, too much removed from tho real world. Because a scheme looks well on paper, they are apt to conclude that it will, act well in practice. The younger—either in heart or years—members want -Jerusalem in England’s green and pleasant land to-morrow. The more disillusioned are in no hurry. Jerusalem is an historic town, but its drainage system and other amenities leave much to be desired. Also we object.to Mr MacDonald in his more expansive moods posing as a poor man. Yet to tell the truth, so far as wo know, he has only his £65,000 in 7 per cent. M'Vittle’s debentures, and his. salary of £5,000 per annum between him and the dole. It is a trying situation.

.. * ■% * As if we had not trouble enough on our hands just now with unemployment pervading the dominion like a poisonous gas, the prices of everything we sell falling, and the price of all the money we want to borrow rising, we . now learn on the authority of an eminent naturalist that in twenty years’ time there will not be a rhinoceros left in Africa, the land to which so many of our most devoted missionaries and financiers have given so much of their time and attention. We have often dreamt of having a tame rhino for a pet in our old age, and trotting him down George street just to see the traffic inspectors taking cover in the nearest shop. Would we have to register a rhino, and if so, would the tax bo reckoned on weight or measurement? Now we fear wo shall have to he content with a fox terrier. Only a few years ago, if you went to the proper spot, either you got a rhinoceros or it got you. In either case your troubles were over, and probably a certain amount of reflected glory would descend to your relatives. If the City Corporation had shown foresight it would have secured a pair of these engaging animals, installed them in the Botanical Gardens, and sold their offspring from time to time for many pieces of silver. But, alas, these business men have no vision; they preferred to put the ratepayers’ money into very indifferent public baths, motor lawn mowers, tramways, and tracks through the Town Belt bush for young persons to walk in on fine Sunday evenings. We venture to say that you will not find a single rhino in Otago or Southland, except perhaps in the vicinity of the private distilleries

j{ the latter province, where life is beieved to bo more tolerable alter drinks, ihe Neanderthal man, a stout fellow m his day, is now but a few brown -jones in a museum. Our early settlers iave mostly settled permanently in the land Mr Tapley seems to have retired from politics, and tho rhino is disappearing from Africa. Wo should like to have ‘ E.W-P.’s ” views on those matters. *• . * . * * There is a vague sort of feeling or luvement abroad which will doubtless . rystallise into one more league or society or association and demand assistinco from a harassed Government unler the title of “ Safety First.” The ’eneral idea is that the yellow fluid i the bottle is just as likely to be ■icric acid as whisky, and it is v/ell to jar this in mind, the action of the forter poison being much more rapid and -ss comfortable than the action of the atter. When “ Safety First,” Inc. -ts into its stride it might devote iime of its energy to the children of II ages who cross our streets and roads ust in front of motor cars and wagons, .'lot long ago some youngsters were competing for the honour of being the last to cross. The winner got through about Sin ahead of the left mudguard, thanks to a prompt and powerful application of brakes. The motorist leapt out of his juggernaut, captured the youthful sportsman, and cuffed his ears soundly and, as wo think, rightfully. However, the offender’s mother, who appeared miraculously on the scene, did not take this view, and contended that the child had the same right to be on the road as the motor man, who, she maintained, did not own the road, and so on and so on. The discomfited motorist regained his seat and drove away, “ pondering many things,” as Homer says. Nor is this practice con-fined-solely to children. Watch any intersection in George street, and you will see young men and maidens strolling across without taking the slightest notice of the car driver who is Hooting for a passage. This is one direction m which the “ Safety Firsters ” might explore with good results.

,* * « An application by “ Friends of the Soviet Union ” to hold a social and dance in the Town Hall ivas refused by the City Finance Committee. Alderman J. Garden protested strongly. He said: “The time will come when we will give a similar refusal to all people who make application for like purposes, and I don’t care whether it is to entertain the Duke of York or anybody else. We will say no,”—Cable item. Jock Garden is an alderman, An alderman of Sydney. He heads a Communistic clan, With members of his kidney. They think society, as it’s At present constituted Should all be shattered into bits, Convulsed with epileptic fits. And wholly revoluted. Their flags and ties are red as fire, Their language blood-and-thun-dery; They long for nothing less than dire Results for all and sundry (Herein including you and me), Whose status they determine, Unluckily for us, to be Denominated Bourgeoisie, And therefore Social Yermin. Perhaps when Garden rales the roost (A point he’s often stressing) There’ll come a Boom, a Boon, a Boost, A Benefit and Blessing To all who happen to survive This process of transmuting— The lucky one in every five, Who happens to be left alive . When Garden stops thp shooting. / Just when that day will dawn, of: course, There isn’t any knowing; And in the meantime Jock, perforce. Must keep his party going. Their energies must stand no chance Of any diminution; And Rods, revolving in a dance/ Quite naturally must enhance Their powers for revolution. For such a monumental ball It seemed that no location But Sydney’s famous City Hall Would suit the great occasion. At least, their Boss considered so, And earnestly he sought it;' But—bourgeoisie from top to toe — The corporation answered “No!” (Groat Lenin! who’d have thought it?) go Jock —whose temper now, no .doubt, Was getting short and shorter, Retired, irately breathing out Both threatenings and slaughter. “I’ll have the laugh against them ■ yetAnd I can promise them on Some future date that they’ll regret The day they snubbed the Soviet, And handed me the lemon.” But oh! we’ve heard that tale before Ad nauseam, for ages; For social snubbings rankle more Than thoughts of work and wages; And when the Duke of York appears He’ll have his right of entry, And no one heed be seized by fears Of Lord Mayor Garden stopping (cheers!) His ingress with a sentry!