People and Their Doings.

Star (Christchurch), Volume XLIV, Issue 364, 4 March 1932, Page 5

People and Their Doings.

A Parachutist who is no Lover of Bulls : World’s Record for Lady Angler : Significance of the Mace Lindrum’s Secret of Success.

would you rather face—a bull with a nasty look in his eye, or a descent from an aeroplane in a parachute? Most people, probably, would decide in favour of taking their chance with the bull. But not so Pilot-Officer J. S. Fraser. Pilot-Officer Fraser (he is called “ Scotty ” by his friends) is not in the least afraid of a parachute descent, but he makes no secret of the fact that he is afraid very much afraid of bulls. In the forty-one descents which he has made by parachute during the past four months he has been scared three times—and each time by a bull. The last occasion was quite recently on the Coast. Before the ’plane took 'ff Pilot-Officer Fraser

noticed a bull in an adjacent paddock. Remembering that a bull in Motueka had paid him unpleasant attentions while he was landing, and that another had given him a nasty look in Kaikoura, he took the trouble to go along and have a look at this fellow. The bull appeared to be a mild specimen of his species, and to be in a contented frame of mind, so the parachutist decided to risk it.

JT HAPPENED —as, of course it would to one who did not like bulls —that the line of descent carried him towards the bull, and, when he was about a hundred fefet from the ground it appeared as if he would actually land on the animal. The bull, which had regarded the parachutist complacently while he walked about like an ordinary individual, evidently did not like him when he came sailing down at the end of a parachute. It registered annoyance in the customary manner, and Pilot-Officer Fraser found himself speeding towards an animal that was pawing the ground and evidently making every preparation for battle when the man above should land. Desperately the parachutist side slipped in a.i effort to place between himself and the bull the fence near which the animal was making the turf fly. He succeeded, with only four feet to spare, and rose to find the infuriated bull, its head and shoulders thrust through the fence, glaring at him and bellowing its menaces. There seemed to be every possibility that the fence would prove unequal to the strain imposed upon it, and that the parachutist’s third bull would prove the fatal one.

“ LOOSE from the parachute!” cried the parachutist’s manager, alarmed for his safety. Meantime, a big crowd of West Coasters (who may respect parachutes but do not take bulls very seriously) roared in merriment at the unregistered addition to the afternoon’s entertainment. Whether it was the laughter of the crowd that determined him to pocket his fears, or whether his Scotch thrift forbade him to mutilate his parachute, even in the face of danger, is not certain. But Pilot-O .cer Fraser neither cut his parachute, nor essayed the impossible task of running while still harnessed. He put his trust in the capacity of the fence to restrain the bull while he unlimbered himself

in the orthodox manner. He is thankful for one thing—that there are not likely to be any bulls at the Wigram Aerodrome on Sunday, when he will make a parachute descent for the memorial fund to Haakon Qviller, who was killed through his parachute failing in a descent at Oamaru. It is evidence of the fact that Pilot-Officer Fraser is not superstitious that he made his thirteenth parachute descent on the very ground where Qviller had met his death. y[RS EASTHAM GUILD (better known, under her peii name of “ Carrie-Fin ”) has just concluded a deep-sea fishing expedition to the Bay of Islands, where she secured a black marlin swordfish weighing S23lb a world’s record for a woman. In honour of this achievement, Mrs Guild wears a gold badge in the form of a fish. This remarkable catch was made in their fixst day’s fishing, so naturally she is very impressed with the wonders of New Zealand’s deep-sea fish. She has received sheaves of congratulations from all parts of the world, including a cable from Mr Zane Grey, who, by the way, gave her the ncm de plume of “ Carrie-Fin.” Tahiti is Mrs Guild’s home, and most of her time is spent fishing, so she has many interesting comparisons to make between Tahiti and New Zealand. “ The thoughtfulness, kindness and hospitality of the people we have met in Russell, and other parts of the Dominion, have impressed my husband and self deeply,” she said, “ and we hope to return next year and vary deep-sea sports with some trout fishing.” W & V WHEN the Mace is on the table of the House of Commons, fronting the Speaker, there is a House; when the Mace is under the table it is a Committee; and when the Mace is neither on nor beneath the table, no business can be transacted in the House of Commons. “Under” the table, however, is not to be understood literally. When the House is in Committee the Mace is placed upon rests in front of it, but below the surface, of the table. That is understood as “ under." If the Sergeant-at-Arms, carrying the Mace, were to walk into a committee-room, that committee would be dissolved immediately. Oliver Cromwell knew how to break up a sitting of the House. “ Come, come, I will put an end to your prating! ” he said, and, as every schoolboy knows, he had the Mace removed. The present Mace dates from the reign of Charles 11. It bears the initials “ C.R.” A funny incident occurred about the middle of last century. Members had gone to a naval review at Spithead, and had arranged for a sitting at 10 p.m. when they returned. When members and Speaker were ready, the Mace could not be found. It was locked up! The official who had the key was in one of the later return trains, and he was unable to reach Westminster until 11 p.m. The House had to wait for him. The Speaker dare not take his place; no member dare speak. Nothing could be done or said until the cupboard was opened and the Mace was produced.

LINDRUM, the greatest magician in the history of billiards, has revealed the secret of his success. He told a London interviewer that success in this exacting game comes from sensitiveness of the nerves of the fingers. “ If,” he was asked, “ you were advising a promising young player, aged 20,

who proposed to turn professional in two years’ time, how many hours’ practice a day would you recommend —two? ” Lindrum’s eyebrows went up. "Two! No, eight at the least; ten if possible.” “ And what is the difference in results between two hours’ practice and eight ? " “ Long hours of practice produce a peculiar

sensitiveness in the nerves of the fingers which hold the cue,” said Lindrum. “ That is why I make thousand breaks without much trouble. The brain tells you what stroke to play, but it is the nerve centres in the fingers—abnormally developed by assiduous practice—which enable you to play the stroke so that the object balls stop within a fraction of an inch of the position where you wish them to stop. I dare say Kreisler knows the same secret — the instant flashing of a message from the brain to the wrist. The only difference is that he plays with a bow and I play with a cue. But that ‘ nerve ’ touch can come only from long hours of practice.” THE SEMI-ANNUAL wrestling tournament, one of the big events of Tokio, which was to have taken place last month, did not occur. The war in the East had nothing to do with its abandonment. The reason was that the Japanese wrestlers solemnly cut off their top-knots—-their method of indicating that they had gone on strike. The “ top-knot ” coiffure is the mark of the Japanese wrestler, and when he retires he shaves it off. Last month thirty of Japan’s leading wrestlers cut off their top-knots. Their grievances had a Western industrial ring about them—wages and conditions. They demanded higher pay and better conditions, and stated that until their terms were granted they would not let their top-knots grow again. When the last mail left they were still boycotting the ring, and it is probable that, with the greater proportions that have since been assumed by the war in the East, both wrestlers and their grievances have been temporarily forgotten. W 3? CIXTY YEARS AGO (from the “Star” of March 4. 1872) Aquatic.—We understand that a match for engraved pewters has been arranged to come off within a month, between a crew from the married and another from the single members of the Union Rowing Club. The married team are likely to be Gundry, Pavitt, Crosbie, Allan, Morton (cox) ; the bachelors being represented by Barnes, Gain, Dartnall, Monson and Lane (cox).