THE SKETCHER

Otago Witness, Issue 3828, 26 July 1927, Page 73

THE SKETCHER

THE FLYINC FOOL. * The Flying Fool ?”—-What thoughtless jesters dare So christen this brave youth who flies alone Into uncharted death-trails of the air And conquers countless perils “ on his own ?” t'The Flying Fool?” Does this describe the son Of Vikings, who from deeply puddled sod Took flight in solitude, content to shun The aid of any one except his God? •‘The Flying Fool?”—What fellow gave that name To this intrepid hero of the skies, Who so prefers to play a risky game That, if disaster conics, no comrade dies? “ The Flying Fool ” —a quiet, deep-eyed hid Who sails the clouds as captain and as crew; Determined, fearless and a little mad With that strange madness which makes dreams come true. “ The Flying Fool ”•—a youth with nerves * of steel; i Devoid of any boastfulness and bluff, •: A modest lad whose manner makes you : feel i That, come what may, the kid will do his stuff. “ The Flying Fool ” —blonde eagle of the blue Who dares the fog, the blackness and the gale With just his Destiny to see him through, But constant in the faith he cannot fail. “The Flying Fool’’—no kingly plane for him; No endless data, comrades, moneyed chums;

No boards, no councils, no directors ; grim— 1 He plans alone . . . and takes Luck as it conics! i “ The Flying Fool ”■—a kid from off the ( farm •' I Unknown to fame, unheard of in the , news, j Who scorns great plans that keep a man i from harm ■; .And fairly leaps upon an epic cruise. | " The Flying Fool ” —a lad at little pains j To guard against each slight caprice • of fate; j He stalks strange gods of never con- j quered lanes : To write his name among the bravely ; great. j “The Flying Fool” in early morning ; murk i Takes slowly off as watchers hold their 1 breath; Kkims through the mists where ghostly : dangers lurk i And hurls his gauntlet in the face of i Death. “The Flying Fool!” a fearful nation moans; And then the prayers of countless millions rise; And through the day and night his motor drones As on across the sea he flics and flies. “Lindbergh arrives!” . . . The tidings leap through space: The boldest trip in all wend history; “The Flying Fool?” . . . Well, if that fits the case. And such a man’s a fool, who wouldn’t lie? ■—H. T. Phillips, in the New York ’limes.

IS IDEALISM PRACTICAL? By Lady Trustram Eve, in the Daily Chronicle. When Captain Cody first confessed his dreams of conquering the .air he was mercilessly ridiculed.. Yet the direct result of his labours is the daily air service between the nations. Similarly, a man who spoke of practical idealism 50 years ago was regarded With pity. In those days idealists and dreamers were classed together. But now the man with ideals nt least receives a hearing, even though his ideas are rejecteel. Can it be that the world is beginning to realise that the idealist is really the practical benefactor of the race? In one vital matter Britons have always been idealists. They have cherished a higher standard of playing the game than almost any other country. Yet strangely enough, when it is suggested that this principle should be extended t< the great relationships of life they regarc the idealist as an unpractical person. Perhaps one reason why the idealist i: Sometimes ridiculed is that he is apt t< imagine that he has visualised the' who! truth when actually he has grasped on!

a part. He forgets that there are many sides to every question. There is an old story which tells how three blind men were asked ’ to describe an elephant. The first said that the animal was like a tube, the second that it was like a whip, and the third that it was like the trunk of a tree. This astonishing discrepancy in opinion was caused by the first man feeling the creature's trunk, the second its tail, and the third its leg. Not until they discussed the matter and compared notes did they discover the animal’s real likeness.

In the same way, before an ideal can be realised many points of view must be examined and discussed, and for this purpose the more divergent the opinions of the disputants the greater the chance of ultimate success.

If we examine the history of our own country for, say, the last 50 years, we find that there is practically 1.0 great reform which can be claimed by one section of the community. Contributions come from the most unlikely places, and, when the final success’ is at length achieved, the credit belongs not to one person, not to one organisation or even to one nation, but to hundreds of contributory influences. True progress can only be obtained if differences of outlook form the subject of friendly discussion. Most people are idealists in that they wish to find the truth, but few come with open minds, as ready to receive as to impart ideas. Perhaps women offend less frequently than men in this respect, but because they have been enfranchised so recently their direct personal influence is only just beginning to be felt. They have been quick to grasp the practical aspects of idealism, however, and the outcome of 1 one branch of their efforts is the National I Council of Women.

Effective legislation is dependent upon unity of ideas and ideals amongst, those who lead the community, and such unity is the aim of the National Council of Women. People who are sensitive to admitted evils are not always agreed as to how those evils may best be remedied. But discussion diminishes the range of disagreement until practical proposals embodying a wise and sober idealism c i be formulated. Perhaps our own age is more in need of this wise and sober idealism than any other which has preceded it. We are ‘ living at a time when moral disorder and ! social unrest are causing serious anxiety, i But great emotional .turbances breed ■ great evils. When the Black Death broke ; out in the fourteenth century the people ; of this country experienced a strain simij lar to that to which they were subjected ! during the late war. Religious d cay and | social demoralisation followed in the wake ;of this disastrous visitation. But Wy- : cliffc and the religious movement which ihe inspired camo as an antidote. In just : the same way we are now in need of a ' constructive idealism to overcome disrupI tive forces.

Idealism is eminently practical. If we were without ideals we should never launch out into the unknown. If men and women did not strive for great- aims which the world thought impossible we should never have secured the ref or. v>e rejoice in to-day. Therefore, in struggling for ideals we arc doing practical work. Perhaps the greatest ideal that man has ever conceived —the deal of the union of all peoples into a commonwealth of nations —is not so far distant as some people, imagine. The problems which vex us to-day are being faced in greater or lesser degrees in all parts of the world. Industrial problems, the difficulties of the I moral code, and the agonising desire for | peace all have their echoes overseas. The I desire for union is world-wide, and union |is strength. No ideal is too high-flown if it is worked out along practical lines 1 and the best mean-; for its attainment dis- • cussed in conference. By adopting these | methods women hope to assist in realising j many an ideal. | WILL THE SHINGLE LAST? ! “Isn’t it nice to see long hair again?’ i wa s the remark made, not alone by the unshingled. among those who watched the chorus slaves in that delightful musical comedy A Greek Slave.” there was that indefinable suggestion about these girls in their pretty frocks of scarlet and pink mingling in that vivacious celebration of the feast of the Saturnalia that, for ; want of a better term, is dismissed as ** femininity.” And this is a quality that • ■ has been sadly out of fashion. Yet I j i doubt if there were anyone present who . would refuse to admit that there was a wonderful charm about those long dark plaits of Miss Jose Collins in the part of » Maia. * “ A Greek Slave,” as the title might 2 indicate, is not, of course, giving us ar ’ an anticipatory peep into the world of the * future as seen by a celebrated hair ’ dresser, who predicted the other day that i two years would see. if not the end, a: least the beginning of the end,- of th< s shingle. Of course, there are many wh< o . disagree’ with him. Shingled women al e ' over the land are exclaiming that this cai y never be.' . ■ '

They speak of the comfort of short hair, the ease and quickness of dressing it, its suitability for a world of working women. They forget that the fashions are not set by them. They are set 'by women, with maids in attendance, for whom ease and celerity are alike negligible qualities. Already some of these leaders of fashion, the first to be shingled, are beginning to let their hair grow. Notlong will a mistress be content to have

her hair dressed in the same fashion as her maids. And they’ forget, too, that the milliners will have"~some say in the matter. The close-fitting cloche hat, they hold, has prevailed long enough; it is time for a return to the picturesque. They begin to speak, not without reason, of the kindness of a brim to the woman who is no longer in her first youth.

The beauty of long hair has been sung by the poets. It has romantic traditions that cling to it like subtle, tenacious perfumes. Did not all the princesses of our fairy tales have long golden hair? Hair is a vital thing, reflecting light and brilliancy. It has meaningfulness. The women of the poets and of the painter’s have had long hair. It is no light thing, in our zest, for matter-of-factness, to throw overboard all our traditions. St. Paul has very flattering things to say about long hair—but, of course, St. Paul, because of some of his sentiments, is not over much

in favour of the women to the present day. Nowadays the story of the Magdalene drying our Saviour’s feet with the hair of her head loses its meaning. So do those references of the poets to the beauty of long hair. Tennyson, for instance, is continually mentioning hair, black or golden, 'and Browning, too, in this one particular, resembles him: —

O loaded curls, release your store OT, warmth and scent as once before The tingling hair did, lights and darks, Out breaking into fairy sparks. To-day Browning might, with new reason, ask: —

Dear dead women with such hair, too —what’s become of all the gold Used to hang and brush their bosoms? * * *

Beautiful, abundant, thick, colourful hair, no doubt, it may be granted, is the ideal which every woman sets before her. But few there are, says one advocate of short hair, who find it. The shingle, at least, secures that the majority of women shall be neat and tidy. Hairdressing has been simplified for them. Because the majority of women are lacking in originality, and are content, sheep fashion, to follow one another, it has been made easy for them to keep to the track. The hairdresser keeps their hair in order, and their artificial waves exactly resemble each other. The shingled heads become monotonously alike. They have their advantages of neatness and

orderliness. They have their disadvantage of uniformity, with a sad lack of individuality. While long hair has its romantic associations—trailing far down the ages—what has the short hair fashion to offer? There are those who think that the fashion is new —a sign of woman’s emancipation. Of course, they are wrong. Short hair has been traced back to the days of the Egyptians, when the women danced six days in honour of Adonis, and then had their locks shorn as a sign of mourning. Short hair appeared afterwards, at intervals, at times of mourning, as in the days of the French Revolution, when the ladies who were to be the victim of Madame la Guillotine, cut their hair short, and their friends copied them out of sympathy. The vogue lasted on that occasion for 14 years, and was adopted by 90 per cent. At that time people declared that short hair would not go out. But it did! In the days of Joan of Arc, as at the present time, short hair was worn as a call to action, ami again it went out. One has heard, too, that it has been the custom of women prisoners to have their hair cut short.

There can be no doubt that the devotees of short hair will defeat their own ends through carrying the fashion to extremes, if for no other reason. The exaggerated, unbeautiful fashion of the Eton crop may prove the worst enemy of the shingle, which, beside it, becomes symbolic of all that is artistic and womanly. Hair, it is argued, simply because it cannot be cut any shorter, must inevitably be allowed to grow. At a gathering at which I was present recently there were two women who were extreme examples of opposing cults. These two it would have been a joy to see meeting' and shaking hands. But, like East and ! West, they remained asunder. One was an elderly lady in stiff black silk, with a well pronounced waist, and grey hair, dressed in an old-fashioned

style. The other was young. There was a breathless hush when she entered the room. What business had this “ young man’’ in a gathering of-women? was the thought that flashed through a hundred minds. -Then we saw that “ his ” neck, was bare—it must be a woman after all! But the Eton crop that reared itself from that low-cut gown did look extraordinarily incongruous! One sighed in vain for some of the tresses which the Parisiennes pin on to disguise the hard line at the back of their heads, wherewith we might make that Eton crop and that low-cut gown better acquainted!

But, if for no other reason, it seems probable that the shingle will ultimately disappear before many years have passed, because’ never yet have women been content to leave any one fashion alone. “ Varxuin et mutabile semper femina ” is as true to-day as when the words were

written. “It is our charm,” explained a young undergraduate on one occasion, years ago now, speaking in defence of her sex. And one looked at her ami wondered how she had courage to utter the sentiment, seeing that she herself was not particularly charming! It is extraordinary how women seldom can see past the concrete example and allow their minds to browse in the wide meadows of generalities. Should the shingle become less fashionable, how soon will all its qualities of ease and neatness and labour-saving be forgotten. There will-be a cult of beauty again, instead of self-sufficiency and uniformity as represented by mutilated locks. It is noteworthy, I read the other day, that women artists have been slow to adopt the shingle, seeing that the fashion of bobbed hair was started in the Slade School long before it became general. That fact may not be without significance.—Weekly Scotsman.

MIDDLE AGE GARDEN. In my middle years I shall have, for content, An old-fashioned garden, With herbs and flowers blent. Basil, blessed thistle, Fennel, I shall grow : Rosemary, mint, spikenard : Tansy, row on row. Every afternoon I shall sit against a tree, And smell of the herbs □'ill dreams come to. me. And there shall be roses, Pink, red, and white — Not forgetting roses For my delight! —Eleanor C. Koenig, in “ Herb Woman

WHITE BIRD. 1 White Bird, we waited at our doors for , you Hoping to see you sailing gaily by. To pay you tribute as you crossed the ' sky ; Then, later, at some happy rendezvous, Foregather to felicitate the two Who soared on wings of Courage wide and high ; Whom neither storm nor space could terrify ; But, with the greater risk, the braver grew. Me wait. e hear no sound of droning blade. The crested wave may know, but does not tell. To our allotted tasks we turn, afraid lo question wind or waste or ocean swell ; Hopeless, yet hoping for a sign displayed Proclaiming Life endures, although you fell. ’ “ —W. V. V. S., in the Morning Tribune. HABITS WORTH CULTIVATING. In reading the advertisements of various proprietary medicines, I am often struck by the sageness of the advertisementwriter to reassure the prospectiv buyer that the taking of this particular preparation could not possibly “ create a habit ” (says a doctor in an exchange). Evidently, a habit is eommonly regarded as a very bad thing to acquire. Ono would imagine that there were no such things as good habits; only bad habits. The truth is that wo all of us perform I nine-tenths of our daily acts is ob. cnee to, or in accordance with, habits, good [ and bad, which we have formed or allowed to be formed within us. In the | matter of health—and I should be prepared to say the same of many other departments of human life and human activity—the chief business of the ordinary man and woman is the building up of good, sound habit's. It is not desirable that people should be induced to be eternally thinking about their health, worrying as to whether this or that would “ do them good ” pr “ do them harm ” ; whether this food is healthy, or that air is too relaxing. The end of that sort of thing is generally bodily illhealth ; but invariably pretty obvious ’ I mental ill-health —which may be an even I more serious matter.

I was reading the other day an admirable pamphlet issued by one of the American insurance companies, in which some 14 rules of health were laid down and explained, all of-whicli involved the creation of what we may call “ health habits.” They were so good that I have decided this week to give my readers the. benefit of them —-reduced to a dozen, and very slightly modified and a little amplified to meet the needs of a different country with somewhat different circumstances. ! 1. Secure fresh and moving air in all I rooms where you live; and, if possible, i where you work. Try to keep the air in j your house as fresh as the air outside, I though not necessarily so cold in winter or so hot in summer.

2. Wear light, loose, porous clothes, and soft, wide, comfortable boots or shoes with low heels.

3. Spend practically all the time you can out of doors. You will be surprised to find how many household jobs and pieces of hobby work can be done in the garden or the yard just as well as in the kitehen or the workshop.

4. Keep your bedroom windows open, and, if possible, keep the door open also. If the direct wind or rain is a nuisance and keeps you awake, it is easy to devise some kind of a barrier which will not prevent the entry of cool, fresh air.

5. See that your daily dietary, although mainly composed of energy-giving foods (such as potatoes, cereals, and bread) includes also a certain proportion of meat, fish, eggs, cheese, or poultry, together with some milk and a reasonable amount of uncooked saladings and fresh fruit.

(>. Eat only as much as you feel you really want. No meal should consist of more than two courses, apart from fresh fruit; with, on occasion, a cup or plate of clear soup. 7. Cultivate the habit of emptying the bowels once, or preferably twice, every day. It is best to get into the way of obtaining this relief at fixed hours, say, immediately after breakfast, and after the evening meal. The advantage of choosing an after-meal moment is that the introduction of food into the stomach automatically provokes certain movements essential to the elimination of waste. 8. Cultivate bodily cleanliness. Wash the entire surface of the body every morning and evening; and, so far as practicable, brush the teeth after every meal. Do not pay so much attention to what the outside of your clothes look , like, as to the state of your skin and your underwear. At the same time it is a good plan to brush or beat all your clothes every day—the dust may easily harbour th? germs of all sorts of diseases. 9. Once a year go to a good doctor, and get him thoroughly to overhaul you from head to foot; to test your u?ine; sound your heart and lungs; have a look at your teeth and eyes and throat and nose, and all the rest of it. Do not grudge a fee larger than that of an ordinary consultation. Such an examination may save you many consultations.

10. When you are working work with your might. And when you are resting leave your work behind you. Every man and every woman, quite apart from the daily work, should have a keen hobbyhorse to ride. This will help in carrying out the next rule. 11. Cultivate a tolerant, cheerful way of looking at things. Everything that happens in the world, including everything that happens to ourselves, can be looked at from the gloomy, grousy point of view, or from the philosophic, hopeful point of view. One has but to look round tj see how variously the same or similar events and circumstances affect different people. The destiny of the luckiest of us will not bear looking into with the eye of a miserable trouble-fan. There is hardly a set of circumstances in which the optimist cannot find interest or beauty.

12. Remember that every faculty we have tends to atrophy if it is not used. Therefore, give full exercise to every muscle of the body, as well as to your thinking and feeling machinery. The man who never does a generous act soon ceases to have generous thoughts. The man who does not habitually reason and will, soon becomes vague and purposeless in deed. Equally, he who is ever theorising and rarely “ does ” becomes less and less capable of action.

IN MODERN JAPAN. Japanese houses are anything but cosy in winter (says a writer in the Westminster Gazette). Even the tatami, thoso padded palliasses laid on the floor of all Japanese rooms, strike cold as ice to a woman’s silk-stockinged feet, and the brazier in which a handful of charcoal burns seems the merest pretence at heating an apartment that has paper doors and windows. Possibly, as Japan is treading so closely on the heels of the Western world in matters material, the tatami will soon cease to exist, and then will go the agesold custom of doffing shoes outside the door before entering a room. As it is, the rising generation of Japan is still taught to respect the tatami a s English : children arc trained to respect the drawing room chairs ; and from his very first steps a Japanese baby learns never to go out of doors without his sandals and never to enter the home with them on.

In other respects the Japanese youngster is being brought up along lines his parents knew nothing of in theii - own childhood. And it is the mother rather than the father who seems keenest on Westernising their ffspring. A walk through Hibya Park, Tokyo, reveals many kimono-clad mothers holding by the hand little ones garbed in the perfection of Western fashions for juveniles. Tattered and broken dolls are invariably interred, however, with solemn ceremony in the Tomb for Dolls that is to be found in most Japanese school playgrounds, a teacher taking part in the memorial service, at- which fruit and flowers are offered up in their memory.

THE JAM-BREAKER. Seething waters and swirling logs— A jam—-and the clamp of peevee-dogs, A tumble, a break, a rumble and roar— A bit of humanity borne before. High in the spray on a rearing log, He poses calmly with peevee-dog. A flash of colour, the plaided clothes — He’s out where the tranquil water flows. —Stanley Foss Bartlett, in the Northern Magazine.