LOCAL GOSSIP

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXV, Issue 23025, 30 April 1938, Page 4 (Supplement)

LOCAL GOSSIP

Disgust at Golf ONCE again the stalwart legion of golfers is treading the fairways and meeting with the good and bad luck, for which the game is notorious. But nothing could equal the disgust which was voiced by a budding novice who had placed his drive on the green for the first time during the round and then had the heartbreaking experience of taking four putts. .Stalking off the green, ? he espied a sign marked " G.U.R." on a near by green under repair. " Oh, gurr, yourself," muttered the disconsolate one. Truth Sometimes Hurts Unwillingly, but pressed into service by his wife nnd his conscience, he was digging the gai'dcn for the fust time since he became the tenant of a suburban house some months ago. Though the task was not to-his liking, lie was honestly doing his best with a blunt spaile when ho wns indignant to hear a voice from nowhere: "Get a move on there, lazybones." With blood in his eyes ho was locking for the originator of this uncalled-for insult, when he saw the next-door neighbour beaming at him over the fence, and realised that her pet cat, lying in the sun too lazy to move, and not himself, had been the subject of a rather too appropriate remark. The Ready Remedy Wailieke sheep appear to be almost the only ones untouched by facial eczema, and a farmer 011 the island has suggested that the good food for the animals there is the secret. Diet again. Bo that as it may, a helping hand in the matter was offered on <1 rainy Anzac Day, when two girls, sheltering from the flood beneath a dripping tree, were surprised by a ewe there for/ the same purpose. Downcast, the ewe gazed with saddened face on the huddled humanity, Then said one girl to the other, "Oh, dear! Facial eczema. Bett}', give the poor thing your lipstick." Story That Failed, A junior officer of a visiting liner was trying to impress a reporter with the steadiness of tho ship during a Tasmati crossing just completed, and also with the exceptionally fino weather experienced. "You see those scraps of streamers on the deck?" he demanded.. "Well, they were broken when the ship left Sydney, and have not been disturbed since." The remark was overheard by a senior officer, who was not impressed. "What has that man been doing who should have swabbed down this part of the: deck each morning?" lie asked grimly. The junior had the grace to blush, almost. N • y 'rV The Amateur Burglar . It must have been a very amateur imitation of Bill Sikes who took the trouble the other night to break into tlie Picton railway station in search of nionev. It was only natural that he was hot able to find anything of value. Picton is the starting point of one of the most antiquated railway sections in New Zealand and 0110 that nowadays produces more mirth than patronage. The train on. this line has a reputation for slowness that overshadows even that of the " Kaipara

- Bv MERCUTIO =

express" of past ages. Still it is capable, at odd times, of inconsiderately rushing past pedestrians and surprising the inhabitants, and, perhaps, even astonishing itself. An Aueklander who travelled on it from I'icton a few weeks ago was landed at Blenheim about eiglit minutes ahead of scheduled time! It was about the time that Flying-Officer Clouston was expected to drop from the clouds at Blenheim. Aq doubt the "Picton express" was trying to demonstrate that tlie capacity for speed does not in tho air alone. This Game of Bridge While soino readers will no doubt question the veracity of this tale about the ruling passion—bridge—-it was told to Mercutio in all good faith, lour old ladies, all rather deaf, were playing a friendly game. The firstmade a hid ot one no trump; the second, two hearts; and the third, two spades. The fourth cave one look of disgust at her hand and said. "Well, I'm sorry girls 1 can't hid either." The four old ladies solemnly threw in their hands. Another Fish Story This is another fish story, but for all that it is true. The husband, a keen angler, decided to introduce his wife to the joys of trout-fishing, and together they set out for a favourite pool. An hour later they returned, the wife staggering under a magnificent sevenpounder, and the husband following miserably behind, holding with a guilty look a trout that qualified only by a , fraction of an inch above the minimum size. Said the wife with scorn: "I've caught a trout. My husband seems to have been catching bait for this evening." Square Meals for Sixpence In these days of big butchers' bills and the high cost of living generally it is interesting to note what was happening in Auckland 50 years back. At the end of April, 1888, a writer in the Hkkali) remarked upon the fact that an Auckland hotelkeeper was supplying "a substantial meal, including soup, beef, etc., and all for sixpence." There was an unconfirmed statement that "a glass of beer is also thrown in." 'lhis, of course, was too much to expect. No doubt, the sixpenny diners had to be content with water. In any "case the tariff is enough to make present-day readers' mouths water. At the time in question first-class beef was sold at twopence a pound and a leg of mutton, fit tor a Sam Wcller " swarry," could be had for a mere eighteen-pence. An Old-time Wreck Recent references to the wreck of the steamer White Swan in 1862 recall an interesting episode in New Zealand political history. Tho capital was then m Auckland, hut in 1862 it was decided that the session should be held in Wellington. The White Swan was conveying a large party of legislators to the Cook Strait centre. A considerable quantity of .departmental records, required for use during the session, was also on board. When the vessel struck, the cases containing fhese records were thrown oVerboam by the direction of the Postmaster-General, Mr. Crosbie Ward, who thought that they would be washed ashore. However, tiiev were carried out to sea and oblivion. It was afterwards jocularly asserted that the loss of tho documents proved a blessing in disguise to certain civil servants. For many years afterwards, when papers of any kind of dates prior to 1862 were missing the invariable explanation was, "Oh! they were lost in the wreck of the White Swan!"