SPINDRIFT.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16906, 4 December 1922, Page 6

SPINDRIFT.

Headers are invited to send in original topical paragraphs or verses for tb:s column, which is a daily feature of the " Star." Accepted contributions should ! cut out by the writers and forwarded - to the Editor j who will remit the amounts , payable. To-day’s cablegrams say that Captain | Erhardt “ was secretly removed to ! Leipsig, where he lies, closely guard ed.” That seems to be his principle trouble. I have a vote ; I'll use it well, And Liberal my choice will be ; Of Massey I will'sound the kneli, And from “ Reform ” we will be free; And Liberal my choice will be ; 1 The end or Massey's reign is nigh, j And from “ Riiorm” reign will be free ; We can defeat him. if we try. I I The end of Massey’s reign is nigh : At last has struck the fatal hour; ' We can defeat him, if we try— ) The issue lies within our power. j At last has struck the fatal hour; So, Liberals, an effort make! The issue lies within our power, And Bill's despotic- power we’ll break. So, Liberals, an effort make! You can rely on me. for one : And Bill’s despotic power we’ll break— Already he is on the run. You can rely on me, for one : For Massey’s cause I shall not vote, j Already he is on tho run— We’re winning, I would have you note! For Massey’s cause 1 shall not vote; 1 have a vote; I’ll use it well. We’re winning. I would have you note! Of Massey I will sound the knell. “ Now dear.” said Eliza to mo. from behind an array of breakfast disbes. “you’ll have tv> stir yourself. The election is on Thursday. And you have not been before the public much these last few days.” Her words sank on my overburdened soul like lead. The life of a public man involves a terrific strain. I was feeling that strain. “ What more can I do?” 1 asked. “I’ve addressed meetings from the Theatre Royal to outside the Syden--1 ham Post Office. I’ve answered quesI tions and told lies till every chance ot future salvation is gone. I’ve dodged eggs and abuse till I’m worn as thin a* a shadow—what more can I do?” “ Well, have you put any advertisements in yet?” asked Eliza. “ No, by Jove, T have not,” I said. “You must,” answered Eliza, “all the candidates are doing it. Now, let s see. what will yours be—Christchurch N.N.S. Electorate—Vote for me—Why? Because I’m the only candidate—because I do not believe in indentured labour in Samoa—because I do believe in -comforters for policemen and squeakers for school children. I am experienced in politics, having served on the Dustlaying League, and the Dance Committee of the Christchurch Hunt Club. Show your o’iginality and vote for ina. r; Wheii a man gets three hundred a 3' ear . He thinks he’d be happy with five: He’ll tell you that living's so dear His income just keeps him alive. But with ten pounds a week he d oe right as can he. He could pay all his debts and from trouble be free. In fact there would be none so as he If he had five hundred a year. But if through some whimsey of fate He gets his five hundred a year He finds that it needs at least eight To bring the millenium near ; For five hundred pounds slip away just like smoke. At the end of each year you will hni. him dead broke. He’ll tell you it really is far from a joke To have hut five hundred a year. For whether in mansion or not (These lines make the point very You’ll find that contentment can not Be purchased for so much a year. But still there are plenty who long for a try . , At some of the joys that five hundred can huv, And not one of the lot is more eager than. I To collar five, hundred a year. An advertisement states that the becking is now' open for “Foolish never get them all into one theatre. There’s nothing more bewitching, I declare, . . Than you so neatly stitching Things to wear. No words have I to wheedle One so fair; — But please don’t leave your needle In my chair!

<< The Graciousness of Grey Hair. —News heading. On reading my newspaper the other evening T noticed an article under the above heading. How true it is! And bow comforting! V hat hope it brings t > that landmark of our fair city, the bowler, whose locks, though dark and heavy in the days of his youth, are now' but scanty and grey! What conscience will inspire his slender hand row. when, no longer embarrassed by the want of ballast on his cranium he thinks only of the “graciousness” of the grey at his temples. No, now will he smile sweetly upon the populace at large, and thus, bowl on and let who will stay watching. Grey hair really gives one such a distinguished appearance —so chic, m fact, that unconsciously the wearer swells with pride. How oft have I bemoaned mv Fate when reading the latest book, in which the hero invariably pushes back the heavy locks from his noble brow and in which he invariably runs a “ nervous hand through his silken tresses, shining like bu nished gold in the half-light And I have shrunk from sight in nervous hast-e whenever a. fair one has approached me, for —ah. how can I say it. even now! Alas, the bitter truth must out —I am going bald. First do ray locks tnrn grey, then thin, and drop like the last rose of summer. Every time I take off my hat there falls around a shower of my former golden tresses, now changed almost beyond recognition. Every nor’-wester a dozen or so vanish, I know not whence, willynilly blowing into the gutter, and leave me gazing sadly down the channel. But still a little earthly bliss is left to me—l feel that now my smile is sweeter, my eye brighter, and my cheek rosier while yet I cherish to my cranium one lone grey' hair. And thus will I go on my way rejoicing in my new-found beauty, and the graciousress I cast around me, as I float along the street. Selah. “ What's the matter. dear? Yon look unhappy.” “ Oh. clear, I married Dick for alimony and then I fell in lore with him. and now it breaks my heart to divorce him.” SI NB A I).