BY THE WAY.

Star (Christchurch), Volume XLIV, Issue 193, 15 August 1931, Page 17

BY THE WAY.

Some Collections and Reflections. (By ONE OF THE BOYS.) An English clergyman objects to beach pyjamas. But they’d be better than beach night shirts. The New Zealand cricketers are having a three-day rest. It looks as though they expect a lot of fielding. We dunno. The roof of the Sign of the Kiwi has blown off twice recentiy. But is it the wind or has Harry been hitting the roof? M Perhaps the Chief Justice is right. At fifty miles an hour there is no lingering in _i ” il. You lrr.d at the morgue. Binks: “So you lost every day. You were unlucky.” Jinks: “ No. I’m all right. It’s the grocer and baker and butcher that are unlucky.” They are about fifty-fifty—the Port Christchurch and Port and City League, The Port and City League is advocating underground methods and the Port Christchurch is always wanting to chuck mud about. “ Has England a first-class bowler?” we are asked. Perhaps not; but in those old English barns there must be many good bats. “ There is no such creature as a white elephant,” said a writer yesterday. “ Oh. indeed,” writes a correspondent. “ What about Middleton Yard and the Auckland railway station?” “ Good sport seen at final day of Metropolitan meeting,” says a headline. His name, unfortunately, was not given. At a meeting of the Master Grocers’ Association in Dunedin, indignation was expressed at the Minister’s statement regarding sugar prices. Many members were unable to express their feelings adequately as they had omitted to bring their bagpipes. Ebenezer Brown read the evening paper. A hoi *up in Barrington Street, a man sentenced for putting thirteen knife wounds into a woman in Auckland, a murder trial somewhere else, and armed bandits holding up cars in Miramar, a murder on the West Coast, a Wanganui sensation and fifteen burglaries. He then turned to the cablegrams and read a Chicago item. “ My word!” he said to Mrs Brown. “ America must be a terrible country to live in.” It is election year and Mr H. Holland opened the Wesley and Elmwood Clubs’ Maori Carnival. The people came to hear about the Maoris‘and heard all about Harry Holland. He told about Reform and depression and wool and also a little story about how he nearly missed the boat by being imprisoned in a jammed lift. Someone broke open the door and let him out. Well—let that someone beware. His name is known. He was keen on getting new members was this Port Christchurch fanatic. “ What is it that would put Christchurch on the map?” he demanded. “ What do we need to make Auckland, Wellington and Otago jealous of us? What would make for smiling faces? What is the question of the hour? What does Canterbury need?” Young Bill Brown listened and then smiled. “ I know,” he answered. “We need a good half. Mullan is too old.” Mrs Smith reached home at ten o'clock, tired out and happy. “ Is the Winter Show as good as last year?” asked her husband. 44 Better,” said Mrs Smith. “ I met Mrs Brown, and her daughter has married, and saw your two cousins, Jane and Mary, and dropped across Mrs Jones, and she says she knows that woman I was telling you about, and there’s a motor-car outside her house every night, and I met Minnie, and uncle has had a bad heart turn, and Mrs Robinson’s two children have had the measles, and her eldest girl—but I always said that she would turn out no good and ” “ But what about the exhibits?” asked Smith. “ The exhibits—oh, the exhibits—l .didn’t bother about them.”