BY THE WAY.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18959, 4 January 1930, Page 9

BY THE WAY.

SOME COLLECTIONS AND REFLECTIONS. (By One of the Boys.) Another idea of an easy job: Garbage collector in Scotland. Then we have the sad case of the cook who frittered all his time away. “They tell me he drowned himself in ■ Paris.” “Yes—he went in Seine.” “It’s to be a battle of wits.” “How brave of you, Gerald, to go unarmed! ” X X x “How did you finally persuade the tennis star to grant you an interview?” “I threatened to publish her passport photograph.” X X X She was rather stout and they were showing her over the Cathedral. She wanted to go up the tower. “ Haven’t vou got a lift?” she asked. “Yes,” was the reply. “ One foot and then another.” A soldier lost his left arm in the war, and so his right arm was left. His left arm was not left since it was cut off ank his left arm was right. If he had lost his right arm instead of his left, his left arm would have been left instead of his right, but that is not right for his right arm was left and not his left. k rs ‘‘lt’s a boy!” exclaimed the doctor. “What what are you going to call him?” “Percival Archibald Reginald,” said the proud father. “That’s an odd combination, isn’t it?” ‘‘Yes. but I want him to be a boxer.” “I don’t see the connection.” “No? Well, think of all the practise he’ll get when he goes to school with that name.” There are five standing for the four seats of the central division for the Waimak. River Trust and there is quite a lot of bad feeling about it. The Citizens’ Association’s candidates are cross and the independent candidate is cross, so they are all cross. Cross is the Citizens’ cross, but Cross doesn’t care. He is getting out his posters. The slogan is: “Put a cross to Cross and don’t cross Cross or you’ll make Cross cross.” Miss Antique: You ought to get married, Mr Oldchap. Mr Oldchap: I have wished many times lately that I had a wife. Miss A (delighted) : Have you really? Mr O.: Yes. If I had a wife she would probably have a sewing machine, and the sewing machine would have an oil can, and I could take it and oil my office door. It squeaks horribly. « X The wealthy baronet had not always been wealthy, neither had he always been a baronet, and for that reason he was prone to keep rather a sharp eye on his money. He had noticed for some that when the bottles of wine were brought in, they were not quite so full as they ought to have been, and accordingly he requested his butler to do all the opening in his presence. “I notice,” he said sternly, “that when vou draw the corks in the pantry the wine is extremely decollete.” The butler looked surprised and asked: “Extremely decollete, sir?” “Yes,” replied the baronet more sternly still, “rather low in the neck.” It's strange how motor-car accidents happen. It does not matter how careful you are. Met Smithy last week Car was in garage all smashed up. He was going along the road at fifteen miles an hour and crashed into a post “Certain it was not faster?” I asked. “ Positive,” said Smithy. “ I remem ber I had just looked at the speedometer” Then I met Blank. He had a cut on his cheek and they were going to fit a new car to the wheels (the wheels were uninjured). He was going across an intersection at fifteen miles an hour and collided with another car owned by Jones. Jones’s car was badly damaged. Jones told me he was doing fifteen miles an hour when it happened. He is distinctly under the impression that Blank’s car was going much faster, but then again Blank thinks Jones’s car was going much faster. They could not have been. I’m quite sure of that. For both Blank and Jones just happened to look at their speedometers just before the accident and in both cases they were registering exactly fifteen miles per It looks as though the safest speed is forty miles per, because there is no recorded accident of a motorist noticing the speedometer registering that just before an accident. The burning question of the hour is what to do with our boys over the school holidays? A popular solution ;s to send them on a visit to somebody in another town, and by this means the Jones kids have been delivered into ° ur street. Mrs Brown has them. She has also her own boy Percy, a mildmannered kid with glasses. The Jones kids arrived at 9 a.m. yesterday at 10 a.m. Percy cheeked his mother the first time in his life, at 12 noon the local policeman brought Percy and Jones boys home for throwing stones at a Chinaman, at 2 p.m. they had broken our window, shot our cat with a pea-rifle, and had told me to go to Hell. Retiring from the scene I watched them sool a strange sheep dog on to Mrs Smith’s Pomeranian A street hawker diverted their attention for a time and he left, chasing after his horse and cart. At 5 p.m. Percy returned home with two black eyes for saying that Christchurch was a better place than Timaru (the Jones kids come from Timaru). At 6 p.m the fathers of the street waited on Mrs Brown asking that the new kids be returned home. At 7 p.m. Smith’s macrocarpa fence caught alight. This morning there was a live frog in our milk jug. I don't know what’s happened since, I’m frightened to go home