“BEAVER.”

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XII, Issue 242, 26 September 1922, Page 2

“BEAVER.”

LONDON’S NEW GAME. BEARDING THE BEARDED. (By Bruce W. Niven.) London, July 26. With so many of their sporting championships going with depressing frequency overseas, and Henley and Wimbledon achieving a staccato cqiisummation between the drenching showers, small wonder that the times seem out of joint with Englishmen. In such dismal circumstances men will sponsor any villainy and smile and smile the while. Of such is “Beaver.’’ “Beaver” is claimed by its devotees to be the gam© of the moment, it consists of spotting men with beards, points being scored by the player who spots the “beaver” first, and. according to the number and variety ot the captures. On sighting a beard, you simply ejaculate “Beaver” at once, and you are one up on your companion. Points vary in value according to whether the “beaver” is ordinary, royal, or red. The game can be played by two or more persoins, and quite a diverting interest can be imparted by scoring, as in tennis, in which circumstances a doubles match of “Beaver-hunting” is productive of thrills galore. The only essentials to success are an unquenchable cheek and a fleet foot, lor not all “beavers” are as docile as the name suggests. “Beaver” has caught on. It is alleged to have been evolved by some degenerate brain at Oxford, and, according to the press, it is apparently mainly in vogue among undergraduates and school-girls. Be that as it may, “Beaver” is whispered like a charm in the streets' to-day. The youth whose bid for immortality gave birth to “Beaver” is nameless, fortunately for him, but he probably drew his inspiration in some strangely distorted fashion from the definition of beaver as the “lower face-guard of helmet,” which is about as near a connection as a mere layman like myself will get. Perhaps the high priests of the cult dlierish some other esoteric theory. Not long ago the epithet “Ziff” was bandied from end to end of Australia, and at Show-time, when the husky “cookies” came to town the chorus was deafening. Is this “Beaver” gam© some natural offspring of the good old “Ziff” habit? SCHOOLGIRLS BAIT PEER. At any rate, its victims, going about their lawful occasions, and greeted with a giggled “Beaver.” glare, are silent, pr, perhaps, are mightily mov ed to wrath. “A Bearded Peer of the Realm” writes to complain that on arriving at the Hous© of Lords he was confronted by a pack of very impudent schoolgirls, who in unison called out “Beaver!” He was lucky not to have been the possessor of a mere moustache. when the epithet might hav* been changed to “Walrus!” such is ih© decadence of modern youth, h this sort of thing goes on. we may ex pact a Bill for the Boiling-in-Oil of Beaver hunters which, ii energet* Whips saw to it that the aged peei age was well represented, might b< assured of a safe and certain passage An increasing nervousness is being evinced in clubland. Members with facial trimmings are becoming increasingly conscious, when they enter thdii favourite lounges, of titters and whiskers seemed threatened. Barbers ling of papers, from, the occupants ui armchairs in all directions. The epidemic is spreading, and a famine in whiskers seems threatened. Barebrs in particular comment on the growing disposition to part with such adornments, from the patriarchal full set ♦.</ the inconspicuous imperial. At any rate, let us bo thankful for one thing. We have been threatened with a plague of young men with semi-side-boards — those aesthetic lokking growths which drop a couple of inches below the top of the ear, like muttonchop whiskers, cut off in early childhood. But discretion has proved the better part of valor, and, mindful oi the all-embracing possibilities of bea-ver-hunting, these youths are applying the razor to virgin ground. EMINENCE OF BERNARD SHAW. One of the most highly-prized “beavers” in the world of art and literature is Bernard Shaw, lor, with his reddish-silver beard, he is what •» called a “King Beaver.” Asked if he cared to issue a communique on the present state of the campaign, ho an nounced after cogitating on the subject for over an hour, that nothing he could say would have any effect on the ultimate situation So the game goes on. Will it ultimately eliminate the beard from the face of Britain? “Woe awaits a country when She sees the tears of bearded men’,’ says Sir Walter Scott. Let us hope that the dismal prophecy goes phut. Observe what happened to one Darrell Figgis, of Dublin, or rather what happened to Ireland alter his beard was wilfully, feloniously, and with malice aforethought removed by base miscreants in the dead of night. Perhaps the women will have the last word—as usual. If they are all of the calibre of a wife there’ll be a hot time in the old town. She writes:— “My husband looks what he is with his whiskers—a? man, which he did not do when he was without them. “Whoever calls ‘beaver’ in his ear will be unable to call again for some time.” And that’s that!