Editor's Walles

Otago Witness, Issue 3898, 27 November 1928, Page 83

Editor's Walles

RESTLESS HOLIDAYS. In those remote but golden days Of crinoline and bustle. Ere we were bitten by the eraze For rep and vim and hustle, Our holidays we always made A rest, as Nature teaches, And lounged on the Marine Parade Or bathed on sandy beaches. But later on we were supplied With every new “ attraction.” And each resort with others vied To give us satisfaction. To speed yet more the maddened race For pleasure—since we willed it — That was the aim of every place, And nobly each fulfilled it. And now desire for peace and rest Is quite an outworn notion. The motorist, with horrid zest, Essays perpetual motion, And those who helped this love of change To foster and to flatter, Declare that it is very strange And wonder what’s the matter. —“ Touchstone,''' in the Morning Post. BARRIE IN GERMAN. At last Sir James Barrie has come into his own on the Continent (says an Evening Standard writer). Ju spite of the vogue everywhere in Europe for English dramatists, from Shaw down to Noel Coward, hitherto Barrie has been mistrusted by the Continental producers, wlio fear that his sentimentality is too purely British for foreigners. Indeed, 1 have met prominent critics and writers, both in Germany and in Russia, who absolutely refused to consider Barrie seriously as a dramatist. Recently, however, “ What Every Woman Knows ” was produced at the State in Berlin, and, admirably acted, a good reception. , Nevertheless, Barrie is. like English cooking, rather incomprehensible fare for the foreign playgoer, and I cannot see his plays ever acquiring the popularity of, say. Somerset Maugham’s, let alone Bernard Shaw's. GIVING THE CAME AWAY. “ I want some collars for my husband,” said the lady to a haberdasher’s assistant, “ but I’ve forgotten the size.” “ Thirteen and a-half,” suggested the man, with a faint smile. “ That’s it. but how did you know ? ” asked the lady. The experienced assistant s smile broadened. ‘‘Well, you see, madam, gentlemen who let their wives buy their collars for them are nearly always about that size. ’ AN AFRICAN ORDER. In Paris they tell a story of a man who had been awarded, for some indirect service, the African Order of LabasksiTapo. the king of a certain country in Africa with which the French had come much in contact. The Frenchman was greatly delighted, and immediately went *- to a member of the Ministry to obtain the necessary permission to wear the decoration of this foreign order. The Minister hemmed and hawed a . little. “Do you know what the decora--1 { tion consists of ? ” he asked. ‘ “ Certainly,” the gentleman answered. “It is a beautiful ring of gold, from Which is suspended a calumet enamelled in red. I demand the authorisation to wear it.” “ Certainly you can wear it. but it must be worn, in order to be lawful, exactly as the members of the Order in Africa wear it.” "And how is that ? ” “In the nose 1 ” “TALKIES ” AND THE DEAF. Deaf folk, at any rate, will be very •disconsolate if the talking film entirely supersedes the ordinary variety (says a Daily Chronicle writer). The kinema is practically the only form of entertainment they can thoroughly enjoy and in which they can forget their handicap. Quite apart from the interest of the film, there is a tremendous mental uplift and satisfaction in the comforting knowledge that, for once, they are not "out of things.” For their sake I hope that explanatory passages will still be thrown upon the screen. NOAH’S ARK RACE. Miners who have trained whippets to /chase mechanical hares recently engaged .in a novel match near Coalville, LeicesterEngland. A pigeon and a whippet Wkeed over a grass course of 200 yards. The dog was given a start, but the pigeon won by a narrow margin. The pigeon flew only 18in above the ground, and after passing the winning post returned to its master. Though there is no doubt about the homing pigeon's capacity for racing, it can lose. A fancier, told that bees could beat his pigeons, regarded the matter as a joke. The beekeeper thereupon offered to wager two to one on his bees. Both were hard-headed Yorkshiremen, and iron-bound conditions were laid down, so that there could be no room for error. The rules ■were these: The bees, 12 in n umber, were to be r eleased three miles from their hive, and the same number -of pigeons an equal distance from their ■cote. The first six to arrive home to be the winners. The first bee was home half a minute before the first bird, and three more bees reached their hive before the second pigeon. Some time ago a race was run in Australia between an ostrich and a horse. In the sprints the horse just managed to win, but over a long distance the bird won easily. An annual event in Calcutta is known •as the Noah’s Ark Race, the competitors •on the last occasion being a goat, a horse, and an elephant. Whether there was a handicap we do not know, but the goat won easily, and the horse was a bad third. It is on record that Horace Walpole’S brother, Lord Orford, once backed a drove of geese to race an equal number of turkeys from Norwich to London. He won the bet, for the geese kept to the road all the time. The turkeys, when -darkness came on, flew to roost in the trees, from which their drivers had a hard task to dislodge them. The turkeys were two days behind the geese !

THE WOMAN CYCLIST. The modern girl who, wanting to ride a bicycle, simply rides it, can hardly realise the elaborate and serious business this was —or was supposed to be—about 30 years ago (says a Manchester Guardian writer). Mrs Grundy had hushed her voice, but the rider must still consider her personal appearance first, last, and all the time. Even an article on the rule of the road, after giving advice on cycling in crowded streets, emphasised the importance of always looking “neat and trim and charming” while awheel. 1' ashion writers vied with each other in suggesting suitable and hygienic garments for such strenuous exercise. Bloomers and “rational” dress was disliked as being conspicuous, and the skirt, which had to reach to 6in from the floor, was held down by a length of elastic which passed round the instep. As skirts were ordinarily made to fasten at the back with a “ placket hole,” the cycling skirt had to be specially finished with a side opening. The back breadth might be gathered or arranged into two box pleats, and the width at the hem was a little less than the usual four yards. Gaiters were necessary to those who aimed at correctness, and tan stockings, with a row of buttons up the outer side, were on sale, so that a gaiter effect could be achieved without trouble. A flat sailorhat, of the kind worn by some schoolgirls to-day, completed the costume in summer, and in winter was replaced by a boat-shaped felt. Complexion specialists prescribed white veils as a protection against sun and dust, and as a preventive of " cyclist s face,” a terrible condition which was to be avoided at all- costs. MACIC—AND CHILDREN. I know some magicians who detest children on the stage; they say one never knows where the youngsters are going next or what disconcerting remark they may make. I think that’s complete nonsense. I love children, and I invariably get on splendidly with them. Once 1 had 50 children on the stage together. We had a famous time. The secret with children is not to try to be superior. One must come down to their own level, think as they think, do the things they are doing. On this particular occasion, for example, one small girl—l tnink she was four years old —wanted to talk about wedding cakes; so we sat down by the footlights, she and I, and discussed wedding cakes thoroughly. She probably thought I was the most delightful and intelligent man she had ever met. After we had exhausted her pet subject, to the huge delivht of the audience, I got on with the illusion, and everybody was completely happy. I have seen performers frighten children, quite unwittinglv, of course, and reduce them to tears. While the unhappy man goes on with his work on the stage the fond mother in the stalls is comforting a sobbing child. Everybody is uncomfortable—exactlv ■what one desires to avoid. 1 think the men who want watchin" more carefully than any others—l am speaiiing. I hasten to add, from a professional point of view only—are detectives. Detectives have been trained to elucidate mjstories. I heir methods of reasoning J°Kieal. They dismiss the impossibilities and follow up clues in a way which, to a poor illusionist, is sometimes ™'.v disconcerting. At Maskelyne's theatre -we often have Cfl.D. men among ‘■- le audience, and when 1 invite members ot the audience to come up on to the stage as a committee of inspection thev usually respond. On one occasion six detectives responded to my invitation, r rankly. I breathed a sigh of relief when everything was safely over. I am reallv rather proud that 1 managed to bamboozle the lot !—Jasper Maskelyne, in the Koval Magazine. GETTING HIS OWN BACK. The lift was unusually crowded, and an inoffensive-looking man accidentally stepped upon another man's toe. You clumsy fool ! ” roared the injured one. and he bent down and massaged his foot. You might have broken mv instep ! ” An apology from the offender failed to appease. Do you think iny feet were made for an idiot to walk on! ” demanded the angry man. "It almost seems as if they were.” was the quiet rejoinder. BERNARD SHAW’S ISLAND. Mr Bernard Shaw is stated to be negotiating the lease of an island on Lake Maggiore, where he will be able to avoid the attentions of trippers (says the Morning Post). “Mr Shaw,” says a contemporary. “ will not be the first author to seek seclusion on an island. Mr Compton Mackenzie owns the Island of Jethou. one of the Channel Isles.” And then, of course, there was Robinson Crusoe, who was successful in avoiding publicity for some years. But Mr Shaw will doubtless be in touch with the outside 'world. He could hardly exist for long without an opportunity of showing how he disagrees with everybody else. A BAD EGG. The teacher was lecturing the class on birds and their young ones. “ Now, children,” she said, “ you must imitate the young ones when they come out of the shells.” The children started waving their arms ex , ce nt one lad > who fiat <l ui te still Why do you sit still, Johnny ?” said the teacher with surprise. “Because I am a bad egg,” was the startling reply.

ANIMALS AS SEERS. In addition to the five senses that human beings enjoy, it almost seems as if animals and birds have one that enables them to divine a little of the future and see what is in store for them. Fish, birds, and animals are invariably true weather prophets. In some curious way sea birds always know when a storm is approaching. Though the sky may give no warning, they are moved by some common impulse to make their way inland. Wild geese will also fly from the approach of a thunderstorm. Rabbits will leave their burrows in lowlying ground long before a flood occurs. They have some weird premonition which makes them seek higher ground before the danger is upon them. WHAT THE PIANO SAID. The fault isn't mine, if you please, When over my ivory keys Frank's fingers go plunging about To make me discordantly shout. For sweetly I sing to the air If treated with kindness and care, But when people roughly attack I’m certain to answer them back. ■ —John Lea. THE TELL-TALE. Mr Smith opened an account for his wife at the local bank. A few months later the manager, meeting him, remarked: " Would you kindly tell your wife her account is overdrawn ’’ He passed the news on to Mrs Smith, and was received with a casual and rather cold: “ Oh, is it ? ” Next morning she handed her husband a sealed envelope addressed to the manager, requesting him to deliver it. The manager, having opened the letter, remarked: " Perhaps you would like to see what your wife says,” and handed the note to Mr Smith. It was a half-sheet of note paper, on which was written in large letters, heavily underlined, " Sneak.” PITY THE POOR FISH I The herring looks dismayed—aghast— The cod has caught his breath, And seeks the deepest depths as fast As if pursued by Death. The crab takes shelter ’neath a rock. The jellyfish as well, The winkle, overcome by shock, Shrinks closer in his shell. The little shrimps all flee away As quick as they can swim, The haddock —well, it’s safe to say We've seen the last of him. And e’en the bloater—erstwhile bold—- , Speeds miles and miles from shore, The kipper looks quite scared and old And flatter than before. In fact, the ocean's upside down And fear and terror reign Since to the sea from London Town Came smart, recherchee Jane : Though that amazing bathing dress Dame Fashion labels “ Swish,” Jane wouldn't wear it, could she guess How cruel it is to fish ! - -L. E. V., in an exchange. SNIPPITY-SNEE. Doggy and Pony and me Met in a'field of clover: We met a lambkin by a tree When the day was over. " Doggy, where has your puppy-tail gone? ” "They cut it off, snippity-snee! "And, Pony, where .-is the mane you had on ? ” ; " They cut if off, snippity-snee ! ” " Lambkin, where is your soft white wool ? ” "They cut if off. snippity-snee! ” "And, Little Girl, where are your yellow curls ? ” " Well—they did the same to me ! ” -—Una Phyllis Dod. SOLD AGAIN. He was a smart boy—the newspaper lad. One of those youngsters who will one day make his mark in the world—become perhaps a Cabinet Minister, or at least an M.P. He was crying his wares in the main street of the town one evening, when fie came. up to one of the big shopkeepers standing in the door of his shop. “ Buy a paper, sir ? ” he asked, his voice hoarse from shouting. “No!” replied the man abruptly. " Clear off ! ” “ Local footballer shot ! ” went on the boy. j . In a moment the other was all excitement. “Give me a paper—quick!” he said, holding out a penny. " Local footballer shot._ did you say ? ” “ Yes,” replied the boy, moving away. “ But he never scored ! ” THIS BEAUTY BUSINESS. Is excessive “make-up” a bar to the employment of girl typists ? According ; to the • Secretary of the Women Clerks . and Secretaries’ Association, a girl with vividly red lips and • flaxen hair strikes the average employer as being flighty. Employers of to-day generally take into consideration the appearance of a girl applying for a post. They want tlrnir girls to look smart, and they do not object to the use of powder and lipstick m moderation. Recently a young woman in Berlin sued her employer, an art dealer, who had engaged her, but who refused to employ her on the grounds that she “looked like a living picture.”

THE SPENDTHRIFT. A Scotsman was travelling from London to Birmingham one day in a smoking compartment. Turning to the man opposite he asked if he could let him have a match. " Certainly.” replied the man. But a search in his pockets revealed the fact that he had left his matches at home. 'The Scotsman then turned to the other two male passengers, but they both expressed their regret that they had come without any. "Ah. week” said the Scotsman with a sigh, as he put his hand into his pocket, “ I’ll hae to use one o’ my ain ! ” BED —BUT NO BREAKFAST. They say hotels were invented by the Romans, and that Italy was the first country to have them. “ Osteria,” they were called, but they were slovenly places, without host, cook, waiters, or beds. In fact, all they gave the traveller was shelter from the weather. He had to bring his own bedding and food and do his own cooking. The dak bungalow of India is run on similar lines, and is simply a building with a caretaker, who keeps a few chickens and perhaps a cow. He will sell you a chicken, but you must cook it yourself. People with a passion for long words sometimes call an hotel a “Caravanserai.” It is not a compliment, for the caravanserai. or khan, is a sort of fort where people travelling across the wild country of Arabia or Turkestan can pitch their tents for the nighi. safe from robbers. Even in its palmiest days the caravanserai never possessed a landlord or a staff of waiters. There is a khanji, or porter, who lives in a little lodge by the gate, and who inspects visitors through an iron grating before allowing them in. If the guests are approved, he shows them the stable and the well, and will provide a sleeping mat. He presents no bill, but you give him a small tip before leaving. UP IN THE AIR. A man who had dined rather too well was on his way home. It was after midnight. and as he crossed a bridge he saw the reflection of the moon on the water. He stopped and was gazing into the water when a policeman approached. The diner, addressing the policeman, said: " What’s the matter down there ? ” 7 Why. it’s the moon.” replied the policeman. " Well, how,did I get up here ? ” MIGHT AS WELL LISTEN. A young and immaculately dressed man sought to enter the crowded Divorce Court when he was held up by a watchful janitor. "Excuse me. sir.” he inquired, “but are you interested in this case in any way ? ” “ Not in the least.” came the bored answer: “ but as 1 am the co-respondent and shall probably have to pay the bill I might as well go in and hear it—what ? ” WISDOMETTES. Advice is about the only thing people won't take when it’s offered. Suffering loses all its charms if a woman has to do it in silence. A woman’s change of mind is an example of effect without a cause. It is never difficult to appear natural if you have no object in view. No man will criticise your vocal powers, provided you are singing his praises. Women are always included when speaking of mankind, for man embraces woman. It may be a consolation to be at the bottom of the ladder, particularly when it breaks. A telegraph operator is one of the few people who can make a few words go a long way. Man wants but little here below, but a woman expects everything a little below cost price. QUICK WORK. The old farmer, standing beside his worn-out horse, was in a state of perplexity. “Whats the trouble ? ” asked a passerby. “ The old horse won't move.” replied the farmer. • “Rub him with this liniment.” suggested ■ the pedestrian. producing a bottle. The liniment having been applied, the horse dashed down the road. “ Quick, give me some more of that stuff!” said- the farmer. “I've got to catch that animal.” ONE-WAY STREETS. ; Honour is. a one-way street, Where you need hot fear to meet Any who for gain or fame Risks a good and honoured name, Where no spy or charlatan ■Ever comes or ever can. Honesty's a one-way street, Trodden but by willing feet: Not by such as. could they choose, would cheat e’er they would lose: Such as. though the world counts just, Are unworthy of your trust. Truth, too, is a one-way street, Where no. bluffer you shall meet; For, whoe’er prevaricates. Or deceptive tales relates, Be he king or lord or lout. Needs must take the roundabout ! —A. B. C., in Tit Bits, i

AS NELSON KNEW HER. Nelson’s famous ship, H.|M.S. Victory, is to be reported to the Admiralty' as his Majesty’s latest refitted ship. Great pains have been taken to ensure that the Victory shall appear just as she did in Nelson’s day, and the renovation has cost nearly £lOO,OOO. 'The famous and historically correct picture of Nelson’s death is now placed as near as it is possible to toll to the spot where he fell. The Victory will, of course, never float again; she stands in Portsmouth Dockyard in a dry berth. Twenty seamen and 20 marines live aboard. Nelson’s own quarters have been completed just as they were 123 years ago. THE COOLING COLOUR. Tests made by engineers with special instruments that measure heat flowing through a sunlit roof show that a white roof for a house is as cooling as the white clothes worn for • tennis or the river. An even better “ sunshade ” was found to be shiny aluminium paint, as this reflects away the sun's hot rays. A roof coated with this paint admitted 38 per cent, heat less. i Also this probably works both ways, as some heat escaping from the house in winter may be reflected back again, with a resulting economy in fuel. DRAUGHTS. Two men were seated in a railway carriage. As the train moved off, one of them rose from his seat and opened the window. Instantly the other man leaped from his seat and closed it again with a bang. The first man then rose and opened it again. “ Look here,” snapped the man who had closed the window, “ what do you think you are playing at ? ” Draughts.” retorted his companion; " your move.” RAINY SUNDAY. We are the prisoners of Rain. She’s made a house to shut us in, And, peering through the window pane. She laughs with laughter shrill and thin, And clatters if the roof is tin, As if to ask what we’re about If she can keep the whole world out ! But here's a book, a fire, and you ! What do we care for Wind and Ram ? There are unhappy people, too ! I'm sorry, but my sighs arc vain, So happy to be home again With you beside me, snug and warm. The shutters closed against the storm ! —Anne Campbell, in Women's Weekly. PRAISE, INDEED! Some boys were playing cricket in the street as a young woman drove by in her high-powered car. The ball rolled into the roadway, and she drove carefully to avoid running over it, slowing down as she did so. This gave one of the players time to doff his _ cap and say, with admiration in his voice, “Lady, you're a gentleman! ” CALENDAR CHAOS. When Julius Caesar conquered Egypt in 46 B.c. he adopted the Egyptian calendar for his empire, except that he did not adopt the equal months of the Egyptians. The Egyptians divided the year, into 12 months of 30 days each, with five extra days for holidays. Caesar distributed the five extra days by adding one day to alternate months. This he did because he thought odd numbers were lucky. In 28 B.c. Augustus Caesar, in his pride, decided to have as many days in the month of his birth, which happened to be August, as there were in the birth month of Julius Ctesar, which happened ■ to be July. The superstition of the one and the ambition of the other thus produced something of the chaos which ;we still suffer. In 1582 Pope Gregory ■ dropped 10 days out of the calendar, and in 17a2 his plan was adopted by England and 6 her colonies. • If the Ciesars and Pope Gregory could alter the calendar, so may the democracies of the modern world. There seems no reason why we should be called upon to suffer the _ extraordinarily erratic construction of our calendar, and. whatever plan be ultimately adopted by the nations of tne world, the time has come to face the problem. FEELS. I love the feel of slippery soap. And water warm and bubbly in mv bath: ' - And slithery, sloppy sponges, dripping wet, And paddly pools along our garden path. I love the feel of cats and plush, And my new squirrel coat and velvet moss: And downy chickens wriggling in my hands, And babies’ hair, like tickly, fluffy floss. I love the feel of smooth, cool glass, And linen pillow-slips against my cheek; But most of all I love the splendid feel Of slippery stair-rails, polished till they squeak ! POPPING THE QUESTION. 1 Jack was in love, but too shy to tell the girl of his heart all about it. A friend advised him to continue, to pav her attention in the hope that she would draw her own conclusions. Jack found her very slow in taking the flint, and, driven to desperation, said: Helen, wasli t I here in your house on Sunday ?” “Yes,” said Helen. And wasn’t I here on Mondav and Tuesday ? ” ' “ Yes.” ‘‘4 nd a^so on Wednesday, Thursday, rriday. and Saturday?” “ Yes.” “And this is Sunday night, and I'm here again ? ” “Yes. You re very welcome.” " 11-Helen, e-can’t you s-smell a rat 7