A MIXED BAG.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 19351, 11 December 1924, Page 5

A MIXED BAG.

By The Gleaner.

Ho mounted the pulpit to deliver a sermon. but some loose leaves fell and a front pew member of the congregation rushed to pick up the scattered words. With a not unnatural inquisitiveness he glanced at the various sheets as lie .gathered them and found one to be an account from a starting price merchant! Theatrical critics have borrowed many terms from the sporting world, but one that has not so far been purloined from the vocabulary but could easily and appropriately he brought into play is “also started.’’ This particularly applies to vaudeville entertainments. The “stars” of more or less magnitude could be featured, but it is a great mistake to treat some, turns as other than “also started ” To do otherwise is to place a false value on a good turn. it seems to be a case of All Black to play—and win. Staging a lion or tiger hunt between rounds of golf in California instead of going to Africa or India for big game of the jungles is (says the Paris New York Herald) one of the aims of the Pacino Coast Sportsmen’s Club, according to 1* • L. Sims, of Chicago, on© of the directors. It is planned to establish a 45,000 acre hunting preserve and country club in Central California and stock the preserves with lions, tigers leopards, pumas, bears, buffalo, and other game. Because a local athletic field used Jay public school students had become infected,” the superintendent of city parks at Denver, Colorado, on October 29, ordered the field ploughed up, rolled and levelled. Recently an athletic instructor complained that a number of schoolboys playing on the field had been scratched or out; in each instance (he wounds had become infected. The instructor claimed that it had been scientifically proved that athletic fields on which humans have played for several years have become infected on the surface So the oity authorities decided upon a new surface. , . ~ It. is recorded that Paul 1 oiret. the master of modes, who recently showed his latest creations on the stage in I-ondon, was introduced to Hannen Swaifer, the dramatic critic. “This, Mr Poiret,, said their mutual friend, “is the best-known journalist in London.” No, Mr I oiret, I am a costumier like you, said the critic. “But I dress them down, and you dress them up.” Here’s a Tad story on Big Bill late. Mi r Bill Tate, the tall coloured gentleman who hastened the home-coming of Casanova at Boyle’s Thirty Acres recently, is a daily visitor at the Garden. Recently Bill was there again looking around. “Weren’t you paid olf yet?” asked Walter Fields, who noticed that Bill was looking anxiously for some one. “Oh, yes, yes, piped Bill, “Ah go mah money, 'but Ahm looking for that Casanova guy I knocked out. You know, he was champion of some place, Montenegro, W r esphalia, Madrid, or some place, and now I’m the champion of there, but I don’t know where it is.”

A s an actor Jack Dempsey, heavyweight champion boxer, is a riot. In his initial appearances on Broadway as a thespian William Harrison proved it thrice in one day to crowded houses. In his garb, and bis lines considered, he showed a lot of nerve, after momentary frustration, if not actual bravery. When it was all over dramatic critics and boxing experts agreed Jack was still the world’s heavy-weight champion pugilist (says the San Francisco Chronicle). Jack Kearns, his manager, Marty Cutler, veteran heavyweight, Jack Sharkey, feather-weight, Marty Piwers have parts in the champion’s support, Kearns trips on first, resplendent in white flannels, followed by Dempsey, ■similarly arrayed. The former introduces his “meal ticket,” and thev do a whirl at rnpid-firo patter. Champion Jack’s re formed'nose, his curly locks, and his numerous reported engagements are ‘‘kidded.” While Dempsey changes into ring attire Kearns does a plea for boxing that causes real tears to trickle down his lean cheeks. One is brought to a realisation of all that the death of boxing would moan to Dempsey’s business agent. Audiences got action and some laughs out of the main boxing number, in which Culler wears a baseball catcher’s windpad, pillowy 15oz gloves extending almost up to his elbows, ant! double-barrelled headgear. With this protection Cutler enables Dempsey to show the punches that laid out Willard, Carpentiei’, and Firpo. Jack doesn’t soil! through the ropes as he did ‘ before stop ping Firpo, nor mis? Cutler as often as tie did Tommy Gibbons. The champion looks to he in great shape, but says after four weeks of stage staff he’ll repair to his Californian ranch and got hardened up again. ‘ ■ -onipTnri ovrtists of tho past have sue* coeded, not only in wheel races; but in the race of life! and have improved their positions by dint of the same determination and skill which made them successful on track and road. Few of the champions of other days have gone, further in the race of life than Sir Alfred Bower, who, the cables tell us, was recently elected Lord Mayor of London. As far back as 1873 Sir Alfred was a prominent “speed” king. At that timo “speed” probably signified about 25 miles an hour He broke several world’s records in 1887 at the Crystal Palace. He was a versatile rider, a!nd hold records over distances from 20 miles to 150 miles.

Harry Stone wants matches with any man in Die Commonwealth, and he writes in the following terms to a Melbourne journal:—“To show the public that I have improved as a fighter. I would like to box Billy Grime for the lightweight title, Harry Collins for the welterweight title, Tod Monsou for the middleweight, and Em Waddy for the heavyweight; and if I don’t win one of these titles, then I will know lam slipping. I have had three fights since returning from New Zealand, and won tho lot inside 20 rounds. I wonder why Stadium, Ltd., don’t give me a chance? I have done everything they asked mo to do, drew very big houses, amt also gave the public a run for their money. I would be a bigger draw now, the way I am fighting, and I will prove to the public that it will take a very good man to beat mo. In my spare time Xam writing a book on my life, with a good idea of how to learn to box at home: also a record of all the fights I had, with a few hints on boxers I have met.” The day has long gone by when people associate actors and actresses with the parts they' are called upon to x>lay (says a writer in a Loudon paxwr). It was not always so. of course. I remember a certain well-known actor telling me how, many years ago, he played in a provincial town the part of the workhouse master «a the stage version of “Oliver Twist,” in the course of which he had to refuse tr.e hungry child a second helping of porridge. He returned to his lodgings to find no supper awaiting him. In answer to his protest the landlady told him: “You sent poor little Oliver ti lied ’ungry, so now you can ’ave a taste yourself of what it’s like to go to sleep on a hempty stummick!” This was a tribute to the actor’s stage realism which he failed to appreciate. After the brief season of revivals in Australia of her former successes, Gladys lioncried and “The Maid of the Mountains” Company will come to New Zealand, and on returning to Australia will lie seen in ‘•The Lady of the Bose” in Sydney for the first time. Gladys Moncricff will take tho name part. Alfred Frith has a delightful number in a new musical comedy, “Betty,” in Sydney. He sings of Ihe marriage of his friend, the refrain of which runs; “There’s another one gone! Boor simp—poor fish! He never gets a chance; ho gets it where the bottle gets the cork.” High-brows scoffed at “Abie’s Irish Hose” when it was produwd in New York (says a writer in Collier’s Weekly). But five companies arc now playing it, 2,000,000 persons have seen it, and 'he author, ,i woman, may make 5,(00,000 dollars.