ABOUT TOWN
Were you at the cricket match on Saturday ? You were ? Well, tell me. Who was the gentleman that at stages wore such a benignsmile, and at times was biting his fingernails in obvious anxiety? , At the end of the match, one would have thought he had reached the seventh heaven. .You don’t know <iis name ? Well, I’ll tel! you. It was Tony Stanton. ® Another gentleman suggested that the ownership of cows at times like hese, was nothing but a pest. He wanted me to communicate with the Pacific Science Conference to see if some of the scientists gathered there couldn’t invent a mechanical cow that could be fed grass at one end and a tap at the other end would pour out milk when turned on. This, he suggested, would obviate the bother of leaving cricket matches and other places—to go home and milk. That man, ladies and gentlemen, was Mr. William Dawson. ® And again I ask. Who was the man of leather that went for a trip to Auckland in an Auster plane, and when after taking off, the pilot banked very sharply, thought that he was going to be spilled from out of the saucer. You don’t know him ? I do, but I’m not telling. ® George Campbell at the cricket game had reached that happy stage when he was giving a running commentary on the game. He forgot that he had left his public address system at home. He followed the game through rose—or brown —-coloured glasses. ® A number of our bow lers have recently returned from Whangarei, where they played the game as she should be played, and in so doing brought due credit to the town of their birth or adoption. After the game was over they were more or less—er—exhausted each evening. Have they told their spouses the true story of their exhaustion, or are they prepared to leave it to me to do. I know the whole story of each and every one. And what a story. ® The howling of the wolf pack was more than Gerald could stand. He grabbed up his gun and flung himself into the night to deal with the menace that was forever shattering the calm silence of the night. Tnat, my friends, is not part of an adv. for a Canadian Cough mixture, neitner, is it an excerpt from a serial. It is merely what the residents round the hospital feel like doing when they hear that pack of dogs yelping round there all night. I’m told the noise is terrific. If residents are not too keen on it, what must the sick in the ho pital think of it ? ® Don’t forget that there will be an exhibition of Arts and Crafts in the A. and P. Hall on the day of Friday, February 18th. Should be a good show'. I’ll remind you again about this. ® As also I will do about the Air Pageant that will be on the following day, Saturday the 19th. ® By the way, that band that has been playing recently in the R.S.A. Hall is coming along more than fine. This is something new to those who like to perform the gyrations of the demented. I’m told that the R.S.A. are having a dance again next Saturday night in their Hall, and to top off the Air Pageant on the following Saturday, someone is putting on another dance. In fact, there is a dance every Saturday night this month in the R.S.A. Hall, and the band will play for them all. Decrepit as I am, I feel like doing a pas seul myself when I hear that hot rhythm of theirs’. That reads like a Bing Crosby phrase, eh ?
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Bibliographic details
Northland Age, Volume XVIII, Issue 36, 8 February 1949, Page 1
Word Count
618ABOUT TOWN Northland Age, Volume XVIII, Issue 36, 8 February 1949, Page 1
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