THE POTATO PATCH.

Franklin Times, Volume 9, Issue 622, 8 April 1921, Page 4

THE POTATO PATCH.

Another first of April has come and gene. “April Fools,” “All Fools,” or whatever name the day is called by. The time-honoured practice of annually fooling our neighbour dies hard. The origin of the custom is lost in the mists of antiquity, but it probably first grew in the Garden of Eden along with the famous and alluring apple that the serpent handed out to our common and credulous ancestors. Eve swallowed the apple along with the tale of the serpent which accompanied it and then feeling a bit “snaky” went and passed the joke and another apple on to her husband with the result that he got “the jiip*' just as much as his wife did. I opine however that the first All Fools day must have been the last day of February, for after that it was undoubtedly “March!” Poor old Adam! Generations of Eves have been taking ir: his sons down ever since, but nowadays St is not apples they persuade them to chew but bricks.

While on this subject, I understand that a certain local "resident went round, on the morning of the Ist inst telling his friends that he was a trustee for the local Racing Club, and that the Franklin Cup had been deposited with him for safe keeping, fie asked a small party of them round to his office to view the valuable trophy and, on responding to his invitation ; they certainly found a “cup,” but it was not the sort of receptacle they expected to see. If you wish to hear more about it I would refer you to the man in charge of the crockery department in one of our local stoes.

How one thing leads to another. Cups naturally suggest races and I am reminded that the inaugural meeting of the Franklin Racing Club takes place to-morrow (Saturday). Given fine weather, we all ought to have a good day’s sport and, as there is no “tote,” find our pockets not so much lighter after the winner of tfte last race has caught 'the judge’s eye. We can have sweeps anyway. At five shillings (or less) a head j and riot encounter the arm of the law thereby. So for that, let us be truly thankful! All the same, I hope next year >to be collecting a good fat dividend off the machine on the Pukekohe course.

In an illustrated weekly devoted to agricultural affairs, there appears an interesting snapshot of three distinguished visitors a(t the Frankly Show to wit, His Excellency the His Worship the Mayor and the Prime Minister. I am reminded forcibly, when I look at the photo, of the 13th chapter of Ist Corinthians, The itrio seem so symbolical of the theme of that, part of the Holy Writ. The Governor (who placed himself so unreservedly ii) our rural hands) represents Faith; the Mayor (with the municipal elections looming ahead) stands for Hope and fche Premier (with his sunny and benevolent smile) surety, portrays Charity. And when we note Mr Massey’s broad Droportions, we realise that “the greatest of these is Charity.”

As the municipal elections aforesaid roll round once more it behoves us to see that we are also “on the role.” A whole bevy of prospective Mayors and Councillors are to urge their respective claims upon us and, for the next week or two, no one will say that the borough is withouit its supply of gas. It is an old and useful rule that when in doubt one should play trumps and if, on election day, we are perplexed by a plethora of candidates and have a difficulty really to know how to exercise our franchise, then we should play trumps by voting for men who work and are residents in the borough and who have already, on its public bodies served some apprenticeship. —Cornelius. "■