RANDOM SHOTS.

Auckland Star, Volume XIX, Issue 23, 28 January 1888, Page 2 (Supplement)

RANDOM SHOTS.

[By Zamiel.]

Some write, a neighbour's name to lash: Some write—vain thought!—for needful cash; £ome write to please the country clash, And raise a dm. For me, an aim I never fash— I write for fun.

Certain soothsajers have been promising Auckland a gold-mining revival, something analogous to the " silver boom" that is now driving the people of Melbourne and Sydney into frantic speculation in shares ; but, sooth to say, these " booming times' have been delayed so long en route to New Zealand that I feav they will never arrive. So far as Aucklanders are concerned, they have in the past shown such a desire to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs that it is not to be wondered at if that piece of patriotic poultry should give us a wide berth for all time to come. Time and again have London capitalists been on the point of investing largely in Auckland goldmining ventures, when they have been disgusted by barefaced attempts to overreach them, and have departed taking their money with them to more promising fields. The Scotch proverb has it that " hawks dinnapick oot hawks' een ;" but our Auckland hawks are not above preying on each other when they get the chance. Here is a typical instance that occurred not a hundred years ago :— Several gold-mining properties were under negotiation in London and the owner of one of the properties knowing that it was necessary to the company that proposed to acquire the batch, had put a pretty stiff price upon it, say £22,000. The purchaser demurred, but the vendors remained firm, and at last the London capitalists wired to their agents in Auckland authorising them to complete the transaction at the price named. The agents, putting •on a stiff upper lip, marched to the vendors and said, "We have got a wire positively refusing to give more than £10,000; you had better close." But the vendors refused to close, and hinted that if their previous offer was not accepted their • terms would be raised. This frightened the agents, who in a day or so came with a story to the effect that they were now empowered to purchase for £22,000. So their little game was baffled, but I sometimes wonder, if they had succeeded, whether the English capitalists would have got the benefit of the £12,000 that would have been made. Let me hope that Auckland's day of adversity will teach her to purge herself of such disgraceful tactics. If we are to be lifted out of the slough of depression, we must show that we possess some of that righteousness that exalteth a nation, and are not animated by purely sordid considerations.

Amongst those present at the gathering of the clans in the City Hall on Wednesday evening there was a " gJaikit Englishor," with a propensity for punning, who conceived the mischievous project of testing the average Scotchman's capacity for seeing a joke. Selecting a big hoary-headed individual in Highland costume, the countryman of Sydney Smith held him with hi 6 glittering eye, and engaged him in conversation until he thought he had fairly secured his attention. Tnen he trotted out his joke. He said, with an air of great seriousness—"There's a question in connection with Scottish literature that has been bothering me, and'perhaps you can help me. It's this—lf Robert burns Walter's coat, would it be considered a case of arson?" The Caledonian scratched his grizzled beard and slowly implied—" Say that again, raon ! If Robert Burns is Walter Scott? — Od! They'retwa different men a'thegither !" " But you don't understand,'.' said the Englishman, "it's a little joke. Don'tyoli see?—lf Robert burns Walter's coat " 1 feft him labouring at the surgioal operation ; but two days later I met the Scot and turned the conversation to the Burns anniversary gathering. "Eh, mon," he exclaimed, " iena the ignorance o' thae Southrons something astonish in' ! Yon loon tryin' tae rnak me believe that Rabby BttrnsandWattyScottwerea'ano ! Andwha wad ever daur tae accuse them o' araon•!" I hastened away, full of thoughts that lay "too deep for tears/ but which found vent in a hearty laugh when I was at a safe distance.

*** * * * * * ' # What a funny lot the Salvationists are, to be sure ! When I am.purfeited with the excruciating wit of " New Zealand Titbits " I can ahvays turn with fresh zest to the columns of the " Wai* Cry," confident of finding something to tickle my blunted risibilities. Ifere is a nice little item that I came across in this week's issue of the Harmy horgan : —" It was a holiness meeting, and the Captain had been putting in tne knife and cutting loose the idols. Amongst those at the form was. a young lady whb evidently was in the midst of a hard struggle. ' Give up your Isaacs!' shouts the Captain ; and, to his astonishment, a faint voice replied, ' That's his name, Captain." However, Isaacs was laid on the altar, and she had the victory.' " Another paragraph, which is headed " Good Day at Gore," is a very comical report by Lieutenant Vile, as follows: —" Scene at officers' quarters : Ist of the month ; severalurgent bills to meet, and nothing to meet them with save the proverbial ' hard up*' The threadbare knees of our trousers collide with the floor, and we convey the intelligence to our Father. Whilst in the act of communing on the subject, a startling rap is heard. Door quickly opens. ' Good day !' ' Good day, sir !' ' I have just come to settle an agreement ; I have been selling some wool, and I have made a promise that half the money 1 received over a certain valuation should go to help on God's work, so here's a pound, and I will owe you two shillings, the balance.' ' Hallelujah! (with usual Salvation Army ecstasy) Thank you." "Good day 1" " Good day, sir !'" * " * * *♦♦ * * * That good day's work at " Gore is very suggestive of blood. Fire is another object of worship by these red-coated Gospellers, but it seems it must be fire without smoke. Under the heading of " Out of the Smoke into the Fire " a number of testimonies are given in the War Cry by converted smokers. The writers of these agree in describing tobacco smoking as a work of the devil, and many of them aver that at their conversion the desire for indulgence in the habit was completely quenohed. . There would appear to have been something miraculous in the case of a Sydenham soldier, who says : — "Saved three years ago at a Salvation penitent form. Next morning tried the pipe* aB usnal, bub it Would not burn. Threw it In the corner, and havfe bad no desire for tabacco since." All Auckland bandsman, _who confesses that snioking used to be his hobby, writes:— " fcroperly converted in Auckland Salvation Army Barracks* March 20th, 1887. While going home, feeling miserable, I took Otit my pipe, bub could not staoke. Never had the desire for tobacco since." There seems to be a screw loose in this testimony, for if the bandsman had been "properly converted " v^hy should he have been feelift£ miserable cm his way home ? Toni Nicholas, of feanglora, breaks forth into sdiig on the subject, and warbles thtis :— " The Lord He stopped my whiskey, AM the Lor A He stopped my beer, And I carried my bottle upside down In the march in the open air. " The Lord He stopped my baeca, And the Lord He stopped, my smofco And also took away all my sins And He ailed me full df hope." One of the converted smokers hasgiven 265: to the Army> which ho would otherwise. have blown,off in smoke, and<no doubt the Army's funds are visibly augmented by the; enfoi'cing of asceticism on the soldiers. But was^not the Master a "wine-bibber ? y. And if the most comforting practice of

smoking had "been known to the ancient Jews, would He not also have "blown a cloud" with His associates? I strongly opine that He would ; but then General Booth may retort that it was lucky " they didn't know everything down in Judee ;" for instance, they were not adepts at raising the wind for religious purposes !

Before quitting religious matters, let me express my opinion on the City Fathers and the Tent preacher. At the last meeting of the City Council, two applications were made by people who wanted the Corporation to sanction a breach of their own by-laws. One was from a property-owner in Hobson-street, who wished permission to erect an iron shed in his own backyard. The Engineer reported that the proposed shed was not quite in accordance with the regulations, but he recommended that the permit be granted, provided the neighbours did not object. Without consulting the neighbours, or heeding the Engineer's recommendation, the Council refused the permit, on grounds of public safety. Then came an application from the Tent preacher for permission to erect his pavilion within the city boundary. This flimsy erection is quite contrary to the building regulations ; the Engineer had not the hardihood to recommend it for a permit, yet the sapient City Fathers granted the desired permission because in their opinion the tent preacher was "doing good," because churches didnot pay city rates, and for several others equally cogent reasons—one of the most powerful being that the tent had already been erected and in use for a week ! Now, to a thick-headed person like me, it is plain that if the public safety demanded the refusal of the permit in the first case, it did so much more imperatively in the second; and if I had been going to overr-ide a by-law for the benefit of anybody, I should have done so in favour of the man who paid i-ates.

It is truly edifying to witness the zeal of our City Fathers in the cause of religion, when they are ready to act on the Jesuitical principle of " doing evil that good may come." But the very pertinent question has been raised in the Star—ls it " good " that is done by these tent services ? Is it a good thing to have our social order subverted by an attempt to change Saturday into Sunday. Or is it a desirable thing to have people wrought up into a high fever of excitement over the expected near end of the world ? While the police are doing their best to stop Sunday trading, is it wise for the City Council to encourage preaching opposed to the law of the land—preaching which declai'ea that the observance of Sunday is not obligatory, but that salvation depends upon the proper observance of Saturday? Apropos, one of the larrikin crew who patronise the tent gatherings got off a neat retort at the expense of the preacher some time ago. The preacher had been enforcing his views on "the Seventh Day question, and had just made what he considered a telling appeal on the subject, when a larrikin yelled out—" Oh, you lazy fellow ! You want two Sundays in the week !"

A few droll reflections occur to me in this connection. The Seventh Day Adventists are always preaching of the nearness of " the day of the Lord ;" how is it that they have such an animus against the "Lord's Day," or Christian Sabbath ? I am told that this sect has hundreds of tents in use in the United States and elsewhere, and that the people sometimes camp out for weeks at a time. Is it not significant that, while the good book speaks frequently of the House of God, it has pointed reference to '' the tents of sin ?" The descendants of Ishmael—the children of the bondwoman —are dwellers in tents, and they are notorious thieves. May we soon expect that the canvas tabernacle people will

"Fold their tents, like the Arabs, And silently steal away!" •» * * * # * * # * There is but one Forder, and his name is ]E. Neville R. ; may his shadow never grow less! What do you think our old friend has been up to as his latest lark? "Zamiel" whisperß it with a blush— " Hunting for the four-leaved shamrock ?" Yes, the great, the only G. N. R. has been on the wallaby track after " the magic plant In whose virtues his soul believes," At feast so I infer from some verses the festive Neville has given to the reading public of Sydney and- in which, he laments his fruitless chase, for his

—-—"frantic Soar oh iB rewarded

By naught but dead rustling leaves. ♦♦♦ ♦ * * * * ♦

Dost remember, G.N.R., foremost in all athletic fields, the champion barracke'r o F Auckland. " Zamiel, old inah !" he would say as he gave me a playful dig in* the ribs that made this child skip like a two-year-old, " I'll lay you three to one the boys 'do 'em, and four to oneth'e longfellow "our Bob" scores. Rasee Ponsonby !" And if it did not come off what a smile the absent one had, and such a playful manner as he would show "the boys" how they should have done it, in fact how he would have done it if he'd been the'-e. Long have we missed him, and his chncklo no more resounds round ' " the corner " nor wakes the echoes of the back x'oom of Tilly's. Fresh pastures green now bear the departed one's tread; and to think that he left lovely Auckland to go mooching round

" In the richest dells of the earth. In the valleys and riverside meadows," hunting for this "magic four-leaved shamrock" that Neville is going to work wonders with. * * '■ * * *. *

Neville has turned philanthropist too, and his heart yearns with desires that are big if he can only got oh to the little fourleaved plant. Marvellous wonders he will worfcj atid amottgothete vVill "gladdeninany a sorrowing heart." Good for you, Neville ! You're improving ! Can'at imagine the Lilliputian as a Bbwev of balm in Gilead and & full-blown p6et, one of those Wonderful jokers Svho Weave rhymes aiid knock off verses as -easily as you or I would swallow an ice efearn. He'a good, too ; yes, good, and don't you make any mistake. I wisli I could prove how good E.N.R.F. is by quoting more largely from this hunting song of his j but it is quite too melancholy for these light col anins. By way of amends I give another piece of his, entitled "Night's Music," which shows the poeb in a more genial if less virtuous mood. " Zamiel" occasionally burns the midnight oil, and hits a fellow-feeling with "the afflicted Forder in the foilo»ving wail :-*

Tsit and write in my silent room. And the scratching1 df my quill Is the only s&and that the dtflmess breaks, And the night is calm and stilL But sudden a tone through the Silent night Strikes the listening ear intense. A wailing cry as of soul in pain, "Tistna cat oh the back-yard fence. The hours speed on and the night grows Jate And my eyes ache with the light , . When Stentorian voices mirte ears .offend, 'Tis the "boys" who are "olit for the night" My home is high bti the Balmain shore, 'And the midnight hour ia slill, when a howling shriek breaks the throbbing air, .. "fts the ferry's WhMle Shrill, 'Tis the eerie and clammy two a.m., In my couch I am courting repose, When n hideous scream the earth doth pipvee. This, iWy befghbour's rOttster xifoWs. Arfd it s%*a- when Tra. doziftg bft* And think I s'nml tto'w sleep feop'd. A clattering crash, and I' start lh f rtgnt, 'Its my1 neighbour bhopping wtrod. Yefttifeilow's dxpdcted Rebn frit to write And keep r-h> firlntora plcklngr, I'fr^aliy forth 'wftU my Kirn some night And atletCfet rll Dast that chicken.