SPINDRIFT.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16829, 4 September 1922, Page 6

SPINDRIFT.

Readers are invited to send in original topioal paragraphs or verses for this column, which is a daily feature of the ** Star." Accepted contributions should be cut out by the writers and forwarded to the Editor, who will remit the amounts payable. The dances known as the one-step and the two-step are firmly established, nnd latest reports state that a new dance has been evolved which will be known as the three-quarter one-step. This is not dancing; it is mathematics. Airs Brown is an ardent prohibitionist while Air Brown likes an occasional spot, and means to have it. “ John,*’ said the former, the other day, “ I do hope you're going to vote with us this election.” Then John commenced singing: "Oh. ye'll tak the dry road, an’ I’ll tak the wet road.” * «r For long I have been feeling sad. But newa lias come to make me glad. From morn to night you'll hear me sing. As blithe as lark upon the wing: My sleep is filled with happy dreams And rosy now the future seems. Last month I used to grouse and wax Profane about the income tax. But the so things trouble me no more For eggs are down to one and four; Aly breakfast eggs again 1 see And that's what make things bright for me. The following story shows how the qualities that make for greatness are developed in childhood. A gentleman took 'his young eon to look over a large steamer, and after a tour of inspection the father went below with the captain, leaving his boy on deck. A few minutes later a junior officer came running down the stairway and announced: “ Sir. your hoy has climbed up the mast ancl is hanging on to the end of the. yard-arm. “ Oh. he 11 he all right.” said the father, and prepared to resume his conversation. “ But if he lets go he’ll be killed,” persisted the officer. ‘‘He wont let go,” was the reply, “my son never lets go.” This boy afterwards became Lord Nortbcliffe. Curiously enough the same incident, with slight variations, happened to Alexander the Great, HanI nibal. Oliver Cromwell. Napoleon, Air j Massey and myself. An article in an English magazine refers to certain stars which arc visible in England, but not in America. This must be Hennessy’s Three Stars. WETR ON THE AVON. The council, you know, is most thoughtful and kind: It’s always devising fresh schemes in itg mind : So soon, if you’re boating, yourself you will find. Beyond the weir. AVhat- visions of hope of the glory arise Tn front- of our almost incredulous eyes— And soon we shall boast of the beauty that lies Beyond the weir. There’ll be no more shallows to shatter our dream— But in the smooth water the tree-tops will gleam, And blissfully, silently, we’ll fioat up the stream. Beyond the weir. Oh, peaceful and jubilant then be our souls. Our pockets won’t empty to give urchins tolls— There’ll be- no more treacherous, traitorous shoals, Beyond the weir. So here’s to the Avon we all hold so dear, And here’s to the boating days now drawing near. When idly we’ll row and we’ll drift and we’ll steer. Beyond the weir. In future, you know, at the Wednesday sing We’ll lift up our voices and rafters will ring Oil the paradise lying for peasant and King, Beyond that weir! Aly researches into the household accounts were interrupted by the sound of a loud snort from my friend Jones os he flung a magazine down on the table. “ Short story writing,” he said sontentiously, “is a study which very few understand.” ” Really?” T said absently. Fourteen and six and five, thiee two eight” . . . and J carefully jotted down some figures. “The beginning is the important point,” went on Jones. “ One must have an arresting beginning to—er —arrest the reader's attention before . .er “Before he gets arrested?” T finished mockingly. Jones passed over my interruption contemptuously. “ Listen to this,” he said, taking up the magazine. “ Who would rend a story beginning ‘ The sun was shining brightly as Alary Cardew stepped into the street * . . one wants ‘ snap.* what the Yankees call ‘pep,’ Oh! you know whot 1 mean !” “I see.” saul 1» “ You would no doubt saj' “ damn a turn!* said Mary Cardew as she step ped into the street,” “ You have the idea.” said Jones graciousiy. ** though somewhat crudely expressed. Then take the mystery stories, their begin nirgs are foozled horribly. If I ever write one I shall begin it with some what striking such as ; The blood dripped slowly through the ceiling. T yelled derisively. “ All right.’’ said Jones rising with dignity. " One of these days when I’m a successful novelist you’ll be sorry you didn’t listen more attentively to me.” “ Shut the door after you.” I called as he departed with a reproachful air. and I returned with relief to the problem of discovering how my wife made six and three pence, four and six pence and ten shillings total one nineteen and ninepenee. It is said that the flapper can now be cured by having modern poetry read to her. But what we want is a cure for the modern poetry. The Wowser and the Killjoy were- walking hand in hand. They wept like anything to hear much laughter in the land, “If this were only swept away,” they said, “it would be grand.” “ If seven Pussyfoots should come and lecture for a year, I>o you suppose,” the Wowser said, ‘'that gloom would enter here?” “I doubt it” said the Killjoy, and wept a bitter tear. “Tf every ballroom w ere destroyed. the dancers, would they die? And pine for lack of exercise till on the ground they lie?” “1 hope so” sobbed the Wowser and ■wrung his hanky dry. I “ Then if we bring prohibition in. and hang on highest tree The felon who the foxtrot does, no matter whom he be, l>o you believe that folk will grow more Like* to you and mei*” fiINBAD.