BY THE WAY

Evening Star, Issue 22596, 13 March 1937, Page 2

BY THE WAY

' V [By X.Y.]

** The time h4s come/* the Walrus said, “ To talk of many things.” At last mental relief is in sight for the poor golfer whose prospective joy over the thought that some day he may hole out in one is marred by fear of the fashionable penalty ( which is paid in liquor at the “ nineteenth.” A humanitarian English club has taken a stand on this question. Its name should be published all over the world in large block letters, but the best I can do at tlie moment is merely to mention it as the Langley Park Club, of Kent. Well, the Langley Park committee has decided that a member who holes out in one shall no longer be expected to stand drinks all round, but instead will be the club’s guest for the day. This, I should imagine, is a pioneering effort in social legislation which, by comparison, throws into a feeble light the various doings of the New Zealand Labour Government.

To expect one individual to “ treat ” everybody on the course simply because be has shown them how golf should be played is illogical. It is, in point of fact, primitive to a degree, or, to borrow a pet cliche of agitators, a “ relic of barbarism.” Why should the glow of achievement bo dulled by the thought of parting out good cash for the sake of men whose combined efforts as a dub could make tho day so much happier? Clearly this excellent Langley Club is on the right lines when it makes tho club, not the holer-out-in-one, the host.

• • • * In many ways, though,, this is a topsy-turvey world. A situation almost analogous to the aforementioned golf custom sometimes occurs when local citizens are about to depart on a 12 months’ trip abroad. Thus we read.: — “ On the eve of his sailing for America, the United Kingdom, the Continent of Europe, etc. etc., Mr So-and-So was the 'guest at a pleasant little function at which he was presented with a case of pipes, etc. etc.” Or perhaps it might be a travelling rug, or a solid leather suit case—you know the sort of thing the occasion generally produces. Now why should Mr So-and-So get anything from anybody when he is obviously prepared'to spend on his holiday a sum which, to many of those who subscribe to his presentation, may seem a small fortune? Methiniks it is the fortunate Mr So-and-So who should be the host at the “ pleasant little function ” —even if it is only at the hostelry over the way. In the case of a man about to marry, it is, of course, an entirely different matter. Poor chap will Be needing all the stray gifts he can collect. So will the man who is incurring the expense inseparable from a transfer to another town. But these globe-trotters do not deserve such consideration. System’s all wrong. System’s absurd. • • * • All obstacles that walk or browse, Or troop or jog or stray, Upon the King’s highway, Pedestrians and sheep and cows— If they must needs exist To vex the motorist, Must necessarily suspend Reflectors on each hinder end. When Jack and Jill go intertwined Along some Lovers’ Lane, The progress of the twain. Is marked by ruby rays behind; Two scintillating stars, As rubicund as Mars, Dependent from their latter parts,proclaim the path of plighted hearts. When Tipsy Thomas turns for home* From swxllings long and deep, And, moving, seems asleep, Too full, indeed, for sound or foam (As sinners mostly are Who lean across the bar). Erratic twinkles from his tail Illuminate the jagged trail.

Belated flocks, upon their track, Illuminate the nights With lines of lurid lights, Like some demented Zodiac. ( The shepherd’s faithful hound, Who circulates around, Shoots, comet-wise, across the dark (I wonder now—do comets bark?) The lowing herd winds slowly o’er (Says Tommy Gray) the lea; But now there has .to be A light on its posterior. A rich and ruddy glow, That drivers all may know When herds have left their safe abode, And slpwly wind across the road. And Law, within a little while, * Will order “ Fiat Lux ” To errant geese and duck# Which cross the roads in Indian file, Lest motorists should bump Some drake’s unguarded rump,' Or cause the premature decease Of unilluminated geese. Then, possibly, some years ahead. Bold mariners will gaze At spectral crimson rays Which form a halo round N.Z., And recognise that Bob Has done the needful job, And made our islands radiate The aura of a Labour State. * * • * A kindly contributor has obliged with the following;— A family of our acquaintance, for consideration received, shifted from Dunedin to another city, which shall be nameless. Longing for the familiar tongue and talk of the home town, the exiled lady asked us to send an attractive young woman to act as companion and house help. Marvellous to relate, such a person could be found, and was willing to adventure amongst strangers. In a year or two came word of her betrothal, and in due time of marriage, and so another Dunedin lass was requested. This time attractiveness was not emphasised. One was duly found and forwarded. She also after a year or so found affinity and married. Last year came an appeal for a third girl from, the home town, one with the familiar tongue but with appearances decidedly plain and unattractive. After a considerable search one answering to the specification was found, although it is thought she was a Sassenach crept in. Now, after a brief sojourn in the town which shall be nameless, she too is sought in wedlock by more than one lover. Which only goes to prove just how very sonsy our own girls are.

Here is one Semple story the truth or which, my informant states, the Minister cannot deny:— Mr Semple, as he himself would expect everybody to know, visited Glenorchy in the course of his southern tour. On the morning of his departure the Lake Wakitipu steamer, Earnslaw, was due to sail at 8.30 a.m. All the other passengers, some of whom had swallowed a hasty breakfast in order to be on board in time, were leaning over the rail wondering why the boat did not pull out as per schedule. The answer to the puzzle was Mr Semple. It was a case of “ no Mr Semple, no

departure.’' In other words Mr Semple had not arrived. At length, about half an hour late, he came He walked to the wharf with that dignified gliding style of his which attracts attention from political friend and foe alike. Undoubtedly he was impressive as he stepped on to the gangway. But, alas, the respectful silence was rudely shattered when a not so distinguished fellow passenger, waxing cynical in the knowledge that he had sacrificed part of his breakfast in punctuality’s cause, remarked loudly but with icy politeness, “Good morning, sir. I see you did not wear your running shoes this morning.” History records that “ Bob ” was human enough to smile. • • • * There’s nothing like being prepared for Armageddon:— In Switzerland, which, significantly enough, appears to be losing faith in the great League of peacemakers it nourishes within its boundaries, highly respectable newspapers are reported to be carying advertisements Couched along the following lines : A Zurich manufacturer strongly recommends a line of special blinds that will prevent any gleams of light assisting bombers; the Heinrich Hatt-Haller Company is prepared to build either above or below ground: Jule Heidrich is ready to install “ gas-proof doors, windows, blinds, and splinterproof shelters ” ; someone else stocks—for the air-bomb refuge—a collapsible bed of steel and canvas, which can be set up within two minutes and requires, no mattress or pillow; and finally, excellent fire extinguishers are offered at reasonable prices. It looks as though the next war is to bo run on strictly business lines. Perhaps the armourers are letting subcontracts. * * * * SWEET ARE THE USES OF ADVERTISEMENTS:— But a canvasser I know is not so sure of the advantages so alluringly proclaimed by those who sell wash-day aids. A perusal of advertisements at times shows Mrs X explaining to Mrs Y just bow easily the drudgery may be taken from Monday’s wash-tub, and the whole afternoon be left free for movies, teas, and other feminine diversions. The illustrations generally show Mrs. X gathering in a basket of snowy and dry garments, about 11 a.m. That, of course, was in the summer before this one. These remarks are prompted by the woes of the canvasser in question who last Monday afternoon was assigned to call on seven houses, and found only two housewives at home, whereas, Monday being wash day, all seven should have been at home waiting to receive him. Reading this, and knowing whom they avoided, the good ladies may declare, with fervour, “ Sweet are the uses of advertisements.’’ ■ • • • • I keep about my humble homo A self-adopted stray, An undersized, self-satisfied, And stealthy beast of prey. His ways are brutal with a mouse, Sadistic with a rat; Yet none the less, I must admit I like my pussy-oat. His voice production wouldn’t pass For fair—much less for good: _ A long, lugubrious crooning, which Afflicts the neighbourhood. No doubt the lady pussies think His caterwauls divine; Bing Crosby is some women’s pet (He isn’t one of mine). No quadruped upon the earth Could rival him for greed. A hungry wolf would blush for shame To see our Thomas feed. What he esteems a well-spent day Consists of sleep and meals. He eats up all the food we give, And what we don’t he steals..

No pacifist society Would welcome Tommy in. He tears the scars of countless fights, And spots of fur less skin. Each morning when the milkman comes, Our warrior appears, Emerging from' his latest war With masticated ears.

I put him out each evening when I feel it’s time for bed. The things he subsequently doe* Are better left unsaid. I’m sure the gentle reader knows Enough to understand That Tommy cats’ biographies Would probably be banned. He’s always—outwardly at least—< Affectionate to me. He strops himself against my legs And sits upon my knee. When fondled, he emits a most Ingratiating purr; And yet—behind these friendly ways There’s something sinister, A hypocrite of hypocrites, Unscrupulous and sleek, One half Chicago gangster and The other Arab sheik; Dishonest, cruel, greedy to The very last degree— He never makes the bad mistake Of alienating me. He spreads diseases, doctors say (The faddy ones at least). I really shouldn’t harbour this Unwholesome, sinful beast. It’s foolishly irrational, And yet, in spite of that, I wouldn’t be without him, fop I like my pussy cat.