HERE AND THERE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16943, 18 January 1923, Page 6

HERE AND THERE.

AN EYE FOR EVERYTHING. BLESSING THE BOATS. The blessing of a boat is a more interesting ceremony than the christen» ing. It is a common ceremonial in Canada. On board a table is erected, and on a whit© cover are a cake, a bottle of wine, and tumblers. A priest, a beadle, a cantor, and an altar boy tak© part. The priest takes from a pewter platter, which the altar boy holds, a. handful of salt and of wheat and sows it in the boat, in order to sbw in it at the same time strength and abundance. Then he dips inta holy water a branch of boxwood made of the. branch that the dove brought into the Ark. sprinkles the boat, and, naming it, blesses it. The cantor chants the “ Te Deum.” The cantoalso sings a Psalm and the “ Ave Maria Stella.” When he finishes.,the fisherr. an’s wife cuts the cake that has been blessed with the boat. She pours wine into* the tumblers, and offers drime and food to the priest and the guests. TALKERS NOT WORKERS is reported to have said:—' “ t>ur Communists are often mighty fine theorists, but they are no good as far as practical labour is concerned. Our worst enemy nowadays is the Cot.i-. munist orator who is put in high positions. We must do away with agitators and propagandists, who know how to break down, but who are unable to put something else in the These* people are a hindrance to the pi oletariat.” MEN’S COLLARS. The stiff linen collar, from which Frofessor Leonard Hill wishes tlio Prince of Wales to emancipate us, would seem to be a comparatively modern invention. Its immediate forerunners were the neck cloths and. stocks of early Victorian times. " whereby gentlemen do* seem bent upon the strangling of themselves * and those came into fashion only after the disappearance of wigs and pig toils. A still earlier ancestor was the broad piece of lace which encircled the neck of the Cavaliers, and ov°r which their lovelocks fell so gracefully. The Puritan, who detested such finery, wore a modest edging of lawn —very seemly. Perhaps the nearest approach in discomfort to the modern collar was the Elizabethan ruff—“ Master Devil Ruffe.” as one Purilan writer termed it stiffened with the Devil’s liquor, “ Starch.” AN F.LECTTON STORY. Dr Macnamara was addressing a meeting of. his constituents when one of the audience expressed a wish to ask a question. Dr Macnamara suggested that he should wait, till the end of the speech, but he persisted, unt.l another member of the audience shout eel loudly: “Sit down, you ass!' There was some disorder at this, and a third man called out: “Sit down: you’re both asses!” This was Macnamara’s chance—or so he thought - and he cut in with: “There seems to be a lot of asses about to-night, but for goodness sake let us bear one it a time.” “All right!” said the first interrupter. “ You go on then.” A roar of laughter greeted this sally, end for once the doctor, as he does not hesitate to admit, was worsted. THE “ OLD LADY.” Sir William Treloar gave the explanation of the Bank of England's nickname. In th© early part of the last century there were several peoplo in the City who were famous for their curious attire, and each bad his or her nickname. For instance, there were the “Green Man” and the “Lady in. Black.” " There was also the “ White Lady of Threadneedle Street.” who was a regular visitor to the Bank of England. She was th© sister of a poor young clerk who had forged the signature t© a transfer warrant. For this crime he was hanged in 1809. His sister was a needleworker for an Army contractor, and lived with an old aunt and her brother in the City. Her mind becathe affected at her brother's disgraceful death, and every day afterwards she would go to the Bank and walk up to the pay counter. “ Is my brother. Mr Frederick, here to-day?*’ she would ask. and the invariable answer was: “No. miss, not to-day.” She never stayed more than five minutes, and invariably her last words ikere: “ Give my lore to him when he returns. T will call to-morrow.” In time the nickname became transferred from the old lady to the Bank itself. ;«s the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street BRASS BAND UNDERWEAR. This year it is no good trying to be a nut on the strength of a ne r suit and a pair of spats which bid© the darn in your left sock. Nuttish ness to-day is almost a thing of the soul. Anyhow, it. is more than spat clrep. and (according to the “DailyExpress ”), it exists beneath' the waistcoat. For instance, some men keen a pair of secret sock suspenders which positively palpitate with colour, otheis favour violet braces in zig-zag pat•terns and a few -usually the most outwardly sombre —harbour wild. prim:, tire underclothes of many colours which express all the passion and yearning of a nuttish life. Till now. this supernuttishness has hee:i closely preserred,but the secret is out at last. The shops in Piccadilly are showing intimate garments which exceed the colour limit to such a degree that recently an old lady paused ilea ” the Burlington Arcade and refused to move till the policeman had told her where the band was playing. A few of the pyjamas now on view look as though they had been mad© in the aurora borealis by a colour blind Cubist and then used as towels in a dye works for at least a month. No man can call himself a nut this year unless he owns at least fne dressing gown that sounds like the “1812 Overture” and a pair of pyjamas that murder sleep.