SPINDRIFT.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17038, 11 May 1923, Page 8

SPINDRIFT.

Readers are invited to send in original topical paragraphs of verae3 for the column, which is a daily feature of the " Star.” Accepted contributions should be «»ut out by the writers and forwarded to the Editor, who will remit the amounts payable. Foliotving on the Oamaru by-election New Zealand has floated a loan in London on excellent terms. THE GREAT DETECTIVE UNRAVELS ANOTHER MYSTERY. “ Why do the lady accompanists wear their hats, Avliile the lady reciter or singer stands bareheaded?” I asked my friend, Holmes, as AA r e sat at the Competitions together. Holmes thoughtfully injected an ounce of morphia into his leg before replying, then he smiled dreamily, and said : “ I see you have been out in the rain recently, there is mud on your \A-ay to the tram, you have been reading about floods, and your wife has not done her washing.” “ Good Heavens!” I cried in consternation. “ Hoav do you know that P” The great detective smiled an inscrutable smile, then he 6aid; “ My dear Watson, the reason the lady at the piano wears her hat is the survival of an old custom, the reason of Avhich has been forgotten. There is a tendency in life for the parts of the scheme of things to remain, even after their usefulness has ceased. Take, for instance, the appendix in man’s digestory, the toes on his feet, or the whiskers on his chin ; and. with the animals, vestiges can still be found of hind legs in a whale, and remnants of toes in a horse. The jaw of a politician is large, and the brain small, still, there is some brain there. All things, as I said before, continue even after their usefulness is forgotten. The headgear on the pianist is a survival from pre-historic times, before the police and the chucker-out Avere invented.. At the competitions in the days of the cave dAvellers, any particularly bad singer or reciter Avas chased from the stage and clubbed. The accompanist, being considered less guilty, was allowed to come fully dressed to facilitate a rapid get-aAvav into the night. So you see, to this day, the ladies at the piano wear their hats.” AN OPEN LETTER. The following letter Avas found in Cathedral Square at 0.0 p.m. this My Dear Girl, —l shall never, I hope. ne\ r er be foolish enough to attempt to instruct you in any point of behaviour, or even suggest that you have a fault, but I do Avish you would listen a little more closely sometimes Avhen Tam speaking. J know lam a weary, boring person, and such things as I have to say to you are not really smart or witty; but it means a lot to me to be heard, and now and then you are verv short with me. Don’t be cross when you read this. V c have known eac h other too long for that, haven’t we? It must be—let me see- -five years since vou Avere first bored with niy remarks. No wonder you are getting less patient Avitll me, and keep 'on asking me to sav* it again and again. There must be something wrong with mv voire. This cold, blustering” southerly weather has given me a chill, and perhaps affected my throat., But in the meantime, when I succeed in attracting to attend. I To the girl at the telephone cxTO BE SAID BEFORE KISSING. T want to kiss your lips; Those Kps of carmine rt*d.’ I want to kiss your lips. You heard the words I said! I want to kiss your lips. There’s only one restraint; I want to kiss your lips. So please wipe off the paint. Mr Massey is nnable to attend the Imperial Conference owing to the polities I situation in New Zealand. News item. Dh ! how .sad is the reflection That so many voters silly. Voted ’gainst thy party', Willy, At the general election For it really seems a pity You can’t go to London City. When the great- ones are conferring, Sad will be the situation, Great- Avil.l be the tribulation. There will be a fearful stirring And they'll surely all go cliilv. When they' cannot find our Willy. When t-he.v find that Bill is missing. Won’t they all !, e filled with wonder At our sad and sinful blunder? Won’t they all be at u« hissing! Won’t they show dissatisfaction ! Won't, they shudder at our .action'! A wise suggestion let me proffer. Which would save the situation Stop this death-hloAv to the nation And silence every foreign scoffer ; If Bill ’aint there ’twill be a pity. So hold the thing in Auckland City. What business man does not knoAV them—those solemn occasions when BroAvn, “an old and highly-honoured member of the firm.” decides to leave the scene of his activities and avc. his colleagues, meet in a body to present him with some ornate and highly useless piece of silverware? Wo gather round, with expressions befitting the occasion. In th© centre of the grqup sits Brown, the victoim, hunched/ up in his chair. He fixes his eyes on the ceiling, the floor, anyAvhere to escape the ring of eyes which regard him with morbid interest. W© scarcely know in this miserable victim our jaunty and debonair Brown of other days. The head steps forward and. begins a postmortem on Brown’s career ... he endows him with such sterling qualities that Ave blink our eye®, a. lump rises in our throats to think we have so little appreciated such an altogether good fellow. Wo saa'3 1 loaa t convulsively —forgotten is the fact that only last Aveek ve were trying to extract from Brown that ten shilling note we lent him that day on the racecourse when he was short of change—a shortness from Avhich he has apparently never recovered. Forgotten are the outbreaks of Brown’s not angelic temper everything adverse goes from our minds as we listen to the glowing Avords of the Head’s oratory. The silverware i.i presented. Brown rises to reply w ith tears in liis eyes. We forget that not tAAm days ago he was exulting that 1 a small legacy made his departure from “ this infernal place ” possible, as he speaks with considerable emotion of bis regret- at leaving the firm. We gather round for an orgy of handshaking. Brown departs. “ Good felloAV Brown,” says the Junior Partner. “ One of the best,” says the Accountant huskily. The Ledger Clerk, who is cursed with a materialistic mind, grunts, “Wish I’d got that quid back I lent him.” SINBAD.