THE FRETFUL PORCUPINE

Observer, Volume XXVIII, Issue 46, 1 August 1908, Page 16

THE FRETFUL PORCUPINE

THERE was a soul-stirring rumpus at one of the larger and more toney local boarding houses one day last week. A very suspicious - looking individual was seen to be manoeuvring round the green where the washing of tHe boarders was suspended gracefully from the line. Obviously, argued the watchers, that person had felonious intent on the family linen. Forthwith, the hue and cry was raised. Valiant boarders, stung to desperation by the horrible rumour that their pasteboard dickies and paper collars had been snatched to the bosom of a sacrilegious stranger, grabbed hockey sticks, and pokers, and other militant weapons, and set out in hot pursuit. The Betsy Anns and Matilda Janes of the establishment girded up their skirts and followed the hunt, while the quarry, realising the fact that this was no place for him, stood not upon the order of his going, but got.

Up hill and down dale they chased the unhappy person, while passers-by indulged in irreverent bets on the result, and in rude criticisms on the subject of the housemaids' running style. Finally the quarry was run to earth in a deserted stable, and seventeen heroic male boarders intrepidly bailed him up and summoned him to surrender. Then they proceeded to search him, anticipating great results in the shape of a rich store of dickies and other articles which need not necessarily be mentioned in a family paper. They didn't get that rich booty. The sum total of the find amounted to two clothes pegs, from which it would appear that the pursuers started out too soon. They let the victim go, and returned to tell each other tales of their own valour. That sensation will die hard in the particular boarding-house concerned. • • • The Rodney and Otamatea Times, which is published in the important metropolis of Warkworth, comes out with this surprising statement concerning the recent Britain-Auckland match: — "The match between the British footballers and Auckland representatives was played at Auckland on Saturday before about 21 spectators, and proved a great match, the local team winning by 11 points to nil." To prevent all misunderstandings and insinuations on the part of a ribald public, we may mention that the Rodney and Otamatea Times was recently purchased by the Prohibitionists. Is this the result ? By the way, if you take the initial letters of the paper's title and place them together, the result is rather curious. It works out thus: R.O.T. • • ■

We do not make progress ; we but merely move in cycles. Just as new presbyter was old priest writ large, so the alleged "new journalism" is at its apogee the old, old journalism over again, The most noticeable of the novel features in that up-to-date newsf taper, the Herald, is its " funny " ocal. It appears day by day with unfailing regularity. Now it relates how a large man and a small man arguing the point in Symonds-street afforded unalloyed amusement to the passengers in the speeding tram cars ; anon it dealß with the guns in the Albert Park. In every issue it sparkles. Now, the "funny local," which was really the invention of Noah, was first revived in New Zealand over thirty years ago by the Lyell Argus, and enjoyed an immense vogue amongst the country journals of the colony until it was killed by the excessive and mistaken zeal of the Oamaru Times. It was laughed out of fashion by George Jones, the proprietor of the rival North Otago sheet, and this gentleman was subsequently rewarded by a seat in the Upper Jlouse.

A Protest from Mt. Eden. "It is a disgrace that the finest building in Auckland should be that provided for the criminal population, while our worthy civil servants, in the postal, railway, customs, tourist, health, and other departments of State should be compelled to work in such contemptible quarters." — N.Z. Herald. (Quotation amended and improved to suit the growing intelligence of the times. ) Long-sentence man (loquitor) : — " They're never satisfied — Them virtuous blokes outside ! The archytecheral part of this 'ere gaol Was meant for them, not us. Then why this blessed fuss — Why all this lugubloombrious wail ? " These castellated walla Shuts in no marble 'alls, Nor yet no cosy corners, warm and snug, Like them Civil Service wights Reach at six o'clock o' nights. No ! Inside our mansion's just a plain old jug 1"

It is a significant sign of the changes in manners which a few years bring about that the residents of Te Awamutu should be found objecting to the running of the Wellington express through that township at the witching hour of midnight. Time was when Te Awamutu seldom went to bed before the wee sraa' 'oors ayont the twal. But that was before George Ahier's advent — perhaps, or was it not ? At any rate, B.N.Z. Willie Von Stunner did not belong to the wicked old generation.

According to Mrs Annie Beaant, " the difference between a saint and a sinner is simply that the saint has lived longer." This, of course, is not the only point at which the teaching of the famous theosophist diverges from the conclusions of mere human experience, but it is rather more obvious than some. Who, let. us say, Razing at the long rows of baldheads in the orchestra stalls at His Majesty's, would doubt that the sinner flourishes like a green bay tree, and outlives the holiest ?

A Lay of Modern Auckland. (With Apologies to the Shade of Lord Macaulay). ' The good steamship Victoria Was close beside the wharf ; And thousands there had gone to see The Anglo Briti-h otf. To say good-bye to Taffy, And bid farewell to John ; And with Kia Oras many, To speed them safely on. Then was there much hand-shaking, And many a hearty wish ; When suddenly poor Percy Down Went down to see the fish. Then rushed the good folk forward, To/peer into the stream, But 'twas so dark, though they peered down, Poor Down could nob be seen. Then up sprang famous Francis, Into the deep plunged down ; Not he — that sturdy forward, Would let a foeman drown. Soon Gillett followed after, Found in the deep a goal ; Next Jackett with no jacket on Made in the brine a hole. Confusion reigned confounded When Cassidy— brave Cclt — Next dived into the liquid scrum — Ah, then was terror felt. But soon the gloom of trouble Did quickly disappear, For Down came up with Francis, And then pealed forth a cheer. Then up came Jaekett, Gillett, And Cassidy the while Emerged from out the briny And scuttled up a pile. Soon all were safely gathered Upon the good ship's deck, Of their aquatic scrimmage They did but little reck. To future generations Of Rugby warriors bold, This tale of gallant rescue Will be right often told — How Gillett and bold Francis Helped lick, then dived to save Poor Down, who but for them would be "Down " in a watery grave. — W.C.C. * * « " Gee " returns to the charge to this effect : — Last week I asked you what the "Cruelty Society," mentioned in a recent ad. was. To-day, my heart is iejoicing, a la village blacksmith, over another ad. that I have discovered in the dailies. This is how she runs : — TIEDEEAL HALL, WELLESLEYSTREET EVERY SUNDAY NIGHT. THE N.Z.S.P. PRODUCTION OF ELOCUTION, VOCAL AND INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. Startling Items. Intensely Interesting. Presumably, " the N.Z.S.P. Production of Elocution, Vocal and Instrumental Music" means " The New Zealand Society for the Prevention of the Production of Elocution, Vocal and Instrumental Music.' This ought to fill a long-felt want. In these days of "Tea Girls," and similar inflictions, such a society is an absolute necessity. I want to become a member. • • • A flea and a fly in a flue. What to do they scarcely knew. Said the flea : " Let us fly." Said the fly : "Let us flee." So they flew through a flaw they Could see in the flue. 'Twas a beastly sort of skidoo. This adieu. • • ■ Let the heart of the housewife rejoice and be exceeding glad, for of a verity shall she shortly be able to purchase the choice chop and the seductive steak at a much lower figure than she has been paying in the past. At last the butchers' ring, that has so long gripped this city, has been broken up, although it is doubtful if this would have happened had Richard Hellaby been alive to-day. A somewhat stormy meeting of butchers was held recently, although the daily papers (singularly enterprising concerns) have contained no record of the fact. At this meeting, it was resolved that, owing to the action of the meat auction marts in selling cheaply, the retail butchers must lower their prices. The reduction will come into effect very shortly. The butcher laments, bnt the housewife won't.

A good story was told at a meeting of the St. John's Ambulance Association the other night. A diminutive urchin waltzed into a chemist's shop and demanded a quantity of strychnine which his mother required for exterminating rats. The chemist made up the order, but, shortly afterwards, a constable ran into the shop and excitedly announced that a certain woman had been found dead, and demanded to know if the chemist had supplied the poison. The only place in which the inquest could be held was the pub, and, while waiting there for the coroner, the chemist was accosted by a stranger : " Are you the man 1" queried the stranger, " who supplied my wife with poison?" "I am," boldly replied the chemist. " Right," retorted the stranger, " come and have a drink." And yet some folk say that marriage isn't a failure.

The Herald is strangely inconsistent in its account of the Albert brewery lire. For instance, we are told that " the girls from the bar had not retired to their rooms," and, later on, that •• the glass dome in the roof, which had cracked as a result of the heat and descending sparks, came tumbling down, the falling glass narrowly missing two or three gentlemen. Is it to be inferred from the Herald's report that the " girls " from the bar were not ladies ? Under the circumstances, it is hard to see what other inference is possible.

Much guzzling has surfeited half the officers of the Yankee Fleet. They now regard pleasure-making which includes heavy spreads and fizz ad. lib. as bard graft, and take it in turns to strain their digestions. One wag has put his story into pathetic verse : — The Lieutenant he quit, and the Captain's unfit, And the fetarboard Watch Jackies are out ; The Marine Corps has dropped, and the fire crew has stopped, And the Ensign is lame with the gout. But I'm doing my best to make up for the rest — Till the flag is hauled down I will eat. I'm the last of the crew, and my finish is due, But I'm game for the pride of the Fleet.

Togo : I noticed that you bad a par in last week's Observer in which it was stated that, according to Tom Wilford, an Auckland coroner's jury held the record for returning an absurd verdict. As a patriotic Aacklander, my blood boils at such an aspersion being cast on the fair fame of my natal city, and request that you will be good enough to award the biscuit to the following verdict which was recently returned by a Wellington jury : " Deceased met his death by failing to grasp a sail that had been removed the day before/ How's that for high? (Biscuit awarded accordingly. — Ed. Obs.) • • • Sir Joseph's Dream. The shades of night were falling fast As down Queen-street a cab there passed, That bore a pile of luggage vasfe For Invercargill. A wild-eyed tourist sat within — He'd just then landed from Pekin. 11 Haste ! Haste !" he said, " I must chin chin At Invercargill." A mail van through the city tore, With twenty ton of bags — or more ; And each the same address card bore "To Invercargill." Then fifty bagmen followed on, Ignoring windy Wellington ; Their hopes of business fixed upon Wee Invercargill. The engineer turned on the steam, And in Sir Joseph's happy dream The very whistle seemed to scream : " Oh, Invercargill 1" The train steamed quickly out of sight ; The passengers yelled with delight : " We'll be down there on Thursday night — At Invercargill." At midnight, full as it could cram, The train roared through the town of Hamilton, and sleepers eried — (salaam), " That's Invercargill." Then, with a start, Sir Joseph woke. Hall-Jones had had another stroke, For Kidd had made a feeble joke On Invercargill. — T. W. Davies.

How deadly solemn must have been that Salvation Army wedding described in Monday's Herald. According to that journal, "the ceremony was the occasion of much enthusiasm, both parties being loudlycheered (one could hardly have been left out), and the hymns, accompanied by organ and concertina, were sung with vim." The pathos of the concertina !

New Zealand is the most progressive country in the civilised world. We say it; and, as Sir W. S Gilbert might remark, we ought to know. Railway trains dash madly along at the rate of two miles an hour, causing a thrill to pass down the spine of travellers who have hitherto only been used to such effete and out-of-date curiosities as the "flying Scotsman." As for the New Zealand postal system, that is a thing at which the whole civilised world should marvel, unless it is imbued with envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness.

We have lately been afforded an example of the strikingly up-to-date postal system of this Dominion, which, as we said before, is the most up-to-date country in the world. We have been shown a letter which bears the Napier postmark, in which the date is recorded as July 25. This letter was delivered to the addressee at noon on July 29. This, we should imagine, just about constitutes a record in "hustle." Unless the postal officials are very careful indeed, the strenuons life that they appear to be leading will have a serious effect upon their constitutions.

It is not right that our postal system should entail Buch a fearful strain upon our civil servants. If this sort of thing continues, there is bound to be a glorious breakdown one of these fine days. Besides, there is no necessity for it. No matter how important a letter may be, there is no reason why it should get from Napier to Auckland in less than a fortnight. We commend this matter to the attention of the Postmaster-General. We feel sure that Sir Joseph Ward, who is a kind-hearted gentleman, would not countenance any sweating methods in the postal service. And that sweating is rife is plain from the fact that it only takes a matter of four days for a letter to get from Napier to Auckand.

They ran an amateur opera show at Waihi the other night, and, being Waiheathens, they had, of course, to bring some striking originality into the affair. It was very striking — or so, at least, thinks Sergeant McKinnon, the boss of the local police force, who was present at the entertainment. In the course of the performance, a bouquet suddenly hurtled through the air in the dim light and struck the manly chest of the sergeant with a resounding whack. The sergeant, however, grasped the situation— and the bouquet — and at that moment the limelight was turned on. Then the sergeant discovered, to his horror, that instead of holding a beautiful bunch of flowers, he was grasping a substantial bunch of carrots, intermixed with parsnips. But, after all, probably the " bouquet " came in handy for the sergeant's dinner next day.

This is the story of the hawker of potatoes. The husband of the lady had told her that hawkers of potatoes were not the philanthropists they appeared to be. She disbelieved him. Had not the hawker of the necessary tuber told her that he was quite honest, and did not also he tell her that he sold sixteen pounds of Irish apples for one shilling. " I see," said the boss of the house one day as he came in, "that swindler has been here again !" "Yes," said she, "and he's sold me 161bs of potatoes for a shilling !" " Weigh 'em !" said Doubting Thomas. She did. They weighed 11 Jibs. "The thief 1" said she. " I told you so !" said he.

Two days after the hawker came down the street. " Here's the thief 1" said Bhe, looking out of the window. "Right!" — said he. "Leave him to me !" " Spuds, sir ; 161bs fer a bob, sir. Cheap as dirt I" " Oh, well, give me sixpennorth !" The hawker brought them, but the man didn't pay. " Now we're square !" said the man of the house. " Square ? Why, you ain't paid me !" " And you only give people 101 b or 111 bof spuds for a bob," said the man. "I'm — — of the police, and if you want your sixpence come to me at the police station, will you ?" The man said ? n 1 1 ! but he never ' called at the, station.