By the Way

Evening Star, Issue 23325, 22 July 1939, Page 3

By the Way

(By X.Y.)

When Walter went to England The days were warm 'and fine; He strolled about the countryside To feel tbo bright sunshine. Then, as he sat awhile, to rest And mop his streaming head, A green grasshopper spoke to him, And this is what he said.

“ O man of many worries, From far across the sea, I feel a bond of brotherhood Betwixt yourself and me. ■ O Walter, brother Walter, will You kindly let me know Whatever makes you register Such bafflement and wocf ”

“ Your sympathy,” said Walter, “ Divines my mood aright. I tramp around the livelong day And lie awake at night; And if you read my riddle, now, You’ll know why I’m upset. What Greta Garbo wants to be Is what I want to get.” '

” I’m but a poor, green insect, And yet I think I’ve guessed With singular exactitude The nature s of your quest,” The green grasshopper answered him; And Walter gave a groan; “ You’re right, O verdant Sherlock Holmes> I want to get a loan,”

“ Ah, ha,” replied the Hopper. “ So that is how I knew That some connection must exist

Between myself and you. Just listen to my history. And then you may divine In what precise particulars Your case resembles mine.

I was a giddy Insect. And threw my weight around: I lived in lavish opulence On everything I found. I squandered gaily in the Spring And all the Summer long; All through the fruitful Autumn, too, I kept on going strong. “ But in the early Winter Provisions came no more. I hunted vainly up and down To fill my empty store; Then, when my belt was tightened, and My figure lean and scant. I went to borrow something from My friend, the thrifty Ant.”

Said Walter. “ You be quiet! I know the ending well That’s just an ancient fairy tale My mother used to tell. I came on urgent business here Connected with the State. Don’t waste my time by chattering Of things so out of datel” “ Dear, dear,” replied the Insect, And sadly hopped away. “ Not every ancient parable It out of date to-day. 0 Brother Hopper, faro you well. In spite of all you’ve spent, . I’m sorry you despise my tale, For it was kindly meant.” • « • n

At the time of writing, Mr Nash’s suitcase is emulating Mahomet’s coffin, metaphorically hanging in the ship’s slings. There is great diversity of opinion at the ’ local debating club (which meets irregularly somewhere above high water mark) over the irresolution about the sailing date. If he has mislaid his return ticket, there is surely our High Commissioner available to make a temporary advance. Has he made dates with the 8.8. C. to explain the advantages of one-way trade over the air P Has Kidderminster offered him a safe seat in the House of Commons? -Is he making personal calls on the, backet shops with prospectuses depicting (a) Mitre Peak, (b) Auckland’s proposed Harbour Bridge, (c) the Hutt Valley Garden City, and (d) the interior of the Customs Department, Wellington? The theory most favoured with, us is that Mr Nash has much the same complex as the wageearner on a Friday night who has only a farcical fraction to take homo after interviews with sundry creditors. Poor Mr Nash! London’s offer of export credits must be like offering a juicy grilled steak to a strict vegetarian.

The statistical method of football reporting has its drawbacks, but it has served at least one useful purpose in drawing the pained attention of. the gentlemen who assemble on Monday nights to the “ damned iteration ” of the scrum. Admittedly it is the foundation of the game, but a house that is nearly all foundations, with stunted walls and no roof, is not the ideal shelter for a family. Old-timers tell of an historic scrum on the North Ground which lasted 20 minutes. That at least had something of the excitement of a tug of war or an oyster-swallowing competition. But the telescopic serials which now g 6 on record in their hundreds each game have no redeeming features in the eyes of those who prefer to see athletes (except swimmers)

“T he time has come,** the Walrus said, “To talk of many thing*.”

in an upright position, and who commiserate with wing three-quarters shivering in inactivity, heartsick with hope deferred. Over-legislation is much to blame for so large a part of the weekly hour and a-half being consumed in mass collapsing and re-forming to collapse again. It is little wonder that into all this mat work such things as headlocks and elbow jolts intrude. There are already too many gratuitous selectors in the field with lists of the correct Otago fifteen to descend on Invercargill towards the end of the month for ” X.Y.’‘ to do more than suggest that Dark Blue forwards be chosen who will not fall down on their job.

11 Better to perish than suffer the fate of Czecho-Slpvakia.” That, on good authority, is said to be the attitude of Poland. The Poles know that capitulation to Hitler means servitude. Poland is full of refugees from Germany’s latest acquisition, fleeing from a Gestapo they knew had marked them down for the concentration camp if not a swifter death. It is unlikely that wq in New Zealand have an adequate conception of refugee movements in Europe. From Baltic ports the usual route is via the Kiel Canal, with soma Swedish port very often constituting a distribution depot for other countries,, As the canal traverses entirely , German territoryj the state of mind of the apprehensive passengers can easily be imagined. No one can trust anyone with whom he comes in contact. The German espionage system penetrates everywhere. It really seems to be a major achievement of the Third Reich. At the very time when Hitle* was holding out a rather grubby hand to England and declaring Germany’s aversion to any future hostilities with her, his espionage system was already in operation in almost every Englishspeaking country. Much of it may bo on a voluntary basis, but there is plenty of evidence that large sums are provided from the Fatherland in spite of the' sacrifice involved in the purchase of foreign exchange. Germany is in the position of a private individual in desperate straits financially who,makes heroic efforts to keep up life-insurance premiums so that the policy; shall not lapse. But a State which has to rely largely on spying in both its domestic and foreign spheres rests on the most insecure of foundations. « ♦ * * In nursery days, when the intriguing pastime of singing rounds and catches caught on,' the one that usually followed ‘Three Blind Mice’ was oua running:

Where has it gone How should 1 know? Here’s a very pretty go-oh-olvoh-ohl .

We are undone. Mr Gordon Coates, towards whoni many eyes have been turning again since Parliament opened in depressing circumstances, has at last broken silence. The burden of his contribution to debate this week has been “Where has it gone?” Meaning su trifle of £7l millions. Probably no member Of the Government or of Parliament knows. There has been such, diffusion of effort in attacking every problem, known and fancied, at once. Frontal attacks with foot, horse, and guns involve heavy losses when amateur strategy and tactics are the equipment of the brass hats. Now people are speculating on what will have to be dropped to enable the country to carry on. Mr Savage stubbornly says nothing will be dropped, but at tha same time gangs of men straightening up after the builders of State houses are contradicting in the style most familiar to them the Ministerial proclamation that the new standard of living shall not be lowered in any aspect. At t the same time Dr M'Millart is suggesting to his chief how to find good money-to throw after bad so that the day rot reckoning shall be postponed. ft is none other than the compulsory sale of privately-held Oversea, securities to the Government, payment to be made in depreciated New Zealand currency. This would bo a first instalment or a capital levy,, and the ingenious method of getting one back on the .'‘financial gangsters” who manosuvred a flight of capital from New Zealand—one way of explaining Minis- " terial extravagance—is worthy of tho source of inspiration.

They played it at Lord’s, Tne Match of the Year, And Fashion in hordes Went thither to cheer. They, thought to see Harrow Wheeled home in a hdrrow; . But Eton , • Was beaten. Oh, dear! By some most absurd Reversal of Fate, Which hadn’t occurred Since nineteen-nought-eight. There came a decision Beyond all prevision The Flouted Had routed The Great! Then ‘matters began To come to a head; A sample of P.anDemouium gone Red. It seems most surprising That Britain’s Top Icing Went blankly And frankly 111-bred. It doesn’t ring true, This hectic affair. I’m sure I or you— Plain folk, as it were— Would think it unseemly To be so extremely And truly Unruly. So there 1 The Cream of the Land Engaged in a brawl. Tooth and nail, hand to hand. Umbrellas and all. To think such behaviour Was staged by Belgravia! I’ve wondered The sun did Not fall.