Shaun’s Patch

Southland Times, Issue 21627, 12 February 1932, Page 6

Shaun’s Patch

A little noneeiwe now and then Ii relished by the wisent men. —Hudlbns.

Brandenburg storm troops cheered Hitler when he was revealed in a glare of limelight. Artificial brilliance seems to be Hitler’s strong point. It is only in this way that Hitler contributes anything illuminating, but it does throw a light on German mentality. Mr Lang declares it is necessary to have Mr Willis in London to counteract the influence of Mr Bruce, who apologises for his own country. Mr Bruce’s chief duty will be to apologise for Mr Lang. ♦ * * * Wouldn’t it be fine as a mark of illwill to offer the services of Mr Lang to Russia as'a financial expert ? New Zealand farmers object to the fixed exchange because it means they must k»ep pegging away under disadvantages. ♦ « * * The match between the South Africans and Victoria was a washout. ♦ * * * Well, the Springboks may get on swimmingly in the final test. * » * « EDUCATIONAL AIDS. "Ehoa” sends me: Give a sentence containing the word “statue”: Rebecca went to the head of the stairs and called "Statue Ikey?” A New South Wales grazier says he was kidnapped and forced to sign bank orders to £15,000 as a ransom. The kidnappers must have been optimists to think that a farmer’s orders in these days could be worth that much. » ■» * « It is a wonder he didn’t accompany them to the bank to see where the money came from. * ■» * * THE INNOCENTS. She thought a pasteurizer was used to get something past without it being seen. I have been asked to discount the rumour that the Radio Rascals have been dropped into the estuary. * ♦ * ♦ HOMICIDALS. From Cec: It matters nut if he is rich or needy I’d often like to grab a gun And give a death that’s quick and speedy To the wretch who calls me “son.” But Of all the things in life I know It would be my greatest joy To make an end that’s sure and slow Of the one who always calls me "boy.’’ « ♦ » * A BOWLING RECRIMINATION. William, though I played with skill and ease No victory I capture for the B’s, And while I’ve no desire myself to praise 'Twas not my fault the win went to the A’s. Though with monotony I drew the shot Or drove to gather in a splendid pot, I did not dream that Thomson could contrive To change a seven measured into five. Nor did I when I burnt a vicious head, And in the next rolled in my touchers dead, That you were going to fail me at the mat By wearing your respectable hat. What can be done, despite my brilliant plays To rout the snooty and obnoxious A’s, When you let down the B’s, as Bill you did, By wearing pure instead of pristine lid.