An Eye for Everything.

— ♦- — - [By Cyclops] Swift as the answer to the good Christian's prayer, came tha response to my despairing wail to the Borough Councillors on Saturday, asking them— funds and other circumstances permitting— to fit out a surveying expedition for Gorton Creek. Shortly before 9 a.m. on Monday morning, a cry was raised on these commodious premises, "The suilieeman is in Gorton street." Of course the bare possibility of such a thing was utterly scouted by everybody, but sure enough tuere he was, dropped as it were, fiora a merciful heaven, like the white-plumed messenger of Hope, bearing in his bill a sprig of olive. Some of the more sceptical members of the staff said "'c dunno where 'c are," and we scarce dared to breithe lost he should discern from our lavender-tinted breath that he was in Gorton street and straightway depart. However he dropped the sprig of olive from his bill, and began to manipulate themae/num scoopum (which interpreted means the longhandled shovel) with a zeal and earnestness worthy of a better cause, and projected mud on to the edge of ihe roa H -way in a manner that would put to shame the most experienced politician. In less than half-an-hour the murder was out, as the hissing and rowing of steam escaping from our triple-expansion, jewelled-in-four-holes engine, indicated to the surfaceman that he was in the vicinity of the Council-tabooed Gorton street, so hurriedly dropping his shovel and replacing the sprig of olive in his bill, he departed into the unknown whence, leaving us alone with our great sorrow.

A CONTEMPORARY says that it "it is not gonerally known that Sir George Grey was instrument tl in sending the Imperial troops to India when the mutiny broke out in that country. He was' Governor of Cape Colony at the time, and two transport ships with troops on board arrived at Capetown, when news was -received there of the outbreak." This was, as everybody knows, the incident of Sir George Grey's whole career, and one might say with equal lo^ic that "it is not generally known" that Arthur Wellesley, alias Duke of Wellington, knocked tho socks off Napoleon at Waterloo, that Christopher Columbus discovered America, that Nelson bust up Johnny Crapaud generally, at Trafalgar, or that Edison invented the phonograph.

The gay and festive Tommy Taylor, aider and abettor of the Isitt Bros, in the Prohibition campaign, has been letting himself loose in Wellington. I notice that his remarks anent the Premier were of such an extreme and virulent character that the local papers refused to publish them. Next to uttering it, orators of the Teetotal Tommy Taylor variety enjoy nothing better thin seeing their ejaculatory Billingsgate in print, and newspapers generally would render an incalculable service to humanity by declining to soil their pages by the utterances of persons whose narrow-minded bigotry inducas them to besmirch the cause they profess to advocate, by heaping low bred garbage upon all and sundry who do not sac things in the same light as themselves.

Wanted —A new after-dinner speech for the Hon. W. P. Keeves. Ever since, by virtue of his political position, he has been privileged to attend public banqnet3, the same old gag has been trotted out on every occasion. Methinks I can see him now. with neck craned forward, right hand in trousers' pocket, and a self-satisfied smile of conscious superiority upon h*s lips. With a few preliminary " era " and "hems," he glances at the reporters' table to ascertain if Ihe scribes are ready to engrave his gems of oratory upon the imperishable scroll of bistoiy, and says : "I feel it a great privileee to be present today, as a young New Zealander and the son of an old colonist, to do honor to our distinguished guest," and so forth. New Zealand has given birth to many peculiar persons, and I think it is not good taste on tho part of the hon. gentleman to be continually casting it up in our teeth. New Zealand cannot help his being born here ! Even when Willum shufflas eff this mortal coil, he will probably approach St. Peter at the pearly gates, and, in Ul3 absence of keys in his etherial pockets, will rattle his halo, and say that " as a young New Zealander and a politi-" oian " he deemed it a great privilege to be present on that occason. St. Peter will . reply, and say, "New Zealanders are welcomo, but politicians cannot enter hera — Sweet William, you are a New Zealander, but you are not a politician. So pass right in, and sit with the crowd of newspaper reporters over yonder." It was with much delight that I heard of the kind permission granted by the Mataura Presbytery at a recent meeting for my friend the Rev. P. TUmsay, of Knapdale, to introduce the " kist o' whistles " to his congregation. This is a step in the right direction, and on the authority of a competent judge I may say it was not taken one Sunday too soon, This kirk has never bean famous for its musical attainments, but on the other hand has been a fair exponent of what an Irish M,P. once spoke of in the House of Commons as "the dismal hotsanahs, the doleful halellujahs, and the lugubrious howlings of Preabytarian psalmody." Indeed, I ones heard it in person, and thought the following not too sacred modern lines might apply (if sung to Oolisbill) ;— Could old King David but for onco To Kiapdnlc kirk repair, Ami hear hia p.-nlms there warbled forth, Good Lor ', how he wouH swear 1