BY THE WAY.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17863, 3 June 1926, Page 9

BY THE WAY.

SOME REFLECTIONS AND COLLECTIONS. (By One of the Boys.) It is a wise Frenchman that knows his own Premier. You don’t want to miss reading the speech Mr Lyons made last night. 3 3 3 At Papanui on Tuesday night, the hall was packed with Scotchmen to partake in “A Nicht Wi’ Burns.” One foreigner sneaked passed the inner guard. I met him yesterday and asked what the show was like. “They had the Highland Pipe Band and after that they had some musical items,” he said. Si Si Si The news that Suzanne Lenglen is to wed Jacques Offenbach, the Frencn poet, is quite romantic. From a worldly standpoint it is not a good match as Jacques only gets £lO a month, but small as the sum is, it proves he is a wonderful writer. At £2 10s a week he is undoubtedly the hightest paid poet in the world. I don’t know what “No, No, Nanette,” J. C. Williamson’s latest production, is about, but the name reminds me of when Murphy’s aunt died and left him a legacy. Mrs Casey went to visit Mrs Murphy, and when she got back she said to Casey, “The stoyle of her! Begob, they've changed the goat’s name to Nanette.” W. T. Lester, A Harbour Board Nestor, Finds it quite a surprise That there’s nothing to criticise. 3 3 Coates the eccentric Delays matters electric Over Coleridge duplication. He shows lack of application. “ Home and Country ” records that Miss Christensen started poultry farming with ten hens and two cocks, and now rears annually 3000 chickens, 150 to 200 geese and 1000 ducks. Some fowls! Who just missed at Lyttelton? I, said Mister Lyons. My opponents \vere fly ’uns. I missed at Lyttelton. Who electrified the tunnel? I, said Mister Lyons. I’m in with all the high ’uns. I electrified the tunnel. Who doesn’t like to canvass? I, said the man defeated. (I hope it’s not repeated, But I think there was a canvass.) Who’s a Liberal ? I, said the Hon M’Leod. Though I mustn’t say it loud, I’m a Liberal. 25 J 5 24 Sometime about two o'clock to-day at the “trots” the first leg of the “double” on the two big races was disclosed. Again the winner of the big race with the winner of one of the mile flutters are coupled on double cards, and allowing Christchurch has a population of 100,000, then there are 10,000 double charts in our “flat” city. Double charts and double betting are illegal but it can be said to the credit of the police that, very few of the sergeants carry charts unless it is for big events like the “Cup” and “Stewards,” or the “Steeples” and “Hurdles,” or the “Easter” and “Autumn.” In connection with this form of betting I once heard a very quick retort. A Chinaman and a drunk had chummed up on the course, and the beereater’s mates were disgusted at the attack on a “White New Zealand.” There is a saying “the luck ’of a Chinaman.” and this betting pair could do nothing wrong, and on the last race landed their “double.” The drunk was wildly excited. “I’ve landed my double,” he shouted to an old time-mate. The mate had been losing all day. Sourly he called back, “I see you have. You’ve got him with 3’ou.” The world’s worst poem, by a lucky chance, arrived in the office mail this morning. It is submitted unaltered and unabridged:— The Selwin Council doth now enact, And by this Council it is decreed. That if you motor on Toon’s Road so fast. Our clerk will kill yOu deed. We will not have j r ou on the roads, If you go at such a pace. The roads are ours, and don’t forget, As motorists you are a sad disgrace. While riding in a motor-car. You respect neither man nor dog, You have only got j’ourselves to blame. If you get christened a motor-hog - You turn the corners far too sharply, Instead of going somewhat round. And never realise what may happen. Till someone is sprawling on the ground. While driving at such a rapid pace, You raise a blinding cloud of dust. And run the wrong side of the road. As though to kill someone you must. ’Tis good there are some fences, And a few gates here and there, The pedestrians can sometimes dodge you, For when you’re going you know not where. ’Tis useless to chastise you, To fine you it is worse, The Magistrate he should disfranchise you. For no mistake you are a blessed curse.