ANDOM SHOTS.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXV, Issue 199, 20 August 1904, Page 12

ANDOM SHOTS.

BY ZAMllEIl?

Point- wrilp n neighbour a name to lnsh; Some write — vain thought — for needful ensh. Some write to please the country clash, And rnlso a din. For mc, an niin 1 never fash--I write for fun.

:- u we won after all—oh, yes, we won; | and having said that I think 1 won't try to talk any more football till after next Saturday. It is an effort, 1 own, but anyhow it will give mc a chance of saying something that I had really hegun to say when I was interrupted by that never -to - he-sufficient ly-commetn-crrated football match. In this way. What would you think, my reader, of a public body who wanted to have their interests represented at a certain meeting in a certain town, and having two of their members located iv that town, passed them over and appointed as their representative somebody else who is not one of their number at nil? Wouldn't you be inclined to think that the said public body had very special reasons either for objecting to the gentlemen they ignored or for preferring the gentleman they appointed? And wouldn't you be prepared to say that! the reason in either case ought to he a remarkably forcible one to justify then in doing anything of the kind? Well, that is 'exactly what they did —our august Harbour Board, I mean. When a certain conference was going on lately at Wellington there were two present members of the Board in the Empire City who are also members of Parliament —not to mention a third member of the House of Representatives who is also an ex-chairman of the Board; and if our Harbour Board ever condescended to follow the ordinary rules of public conduct, or to pay any respect for the laws of logic, I don't see how they could possibly have done what they did. The gentlemen who were thu3 rudely shelved ' would probably like to know what it all means; and so would I. When a public body sets out to act in this extraordinary way, it ought to expect the general public —of whom I am one—to ask inconvenient questions and to keep on obstinately asking them till they are answered. I believe that when this remarkable assemblage was asked the other day what was the real reason for this latest eccentricity, the reply was that they were afraid the gentlemen who were in Wellington, and fcught to have represented the Harbour Board there, wouldn't get on well with the secretary. Now this means one of two things: either that the secretary is so omnipotent in the eyes of ths Board that rather than risk hurting his feelings they are prepared to insult any given number of themselves; or that they think the curiosity of the general public is going to be put off with a silly and childish evasion. I leave it to them to decide—and in the meantime T would so much like to I know what it is nil about. A mystery of this sort appeals to my instinct for the dramatic, and—in short, I pause for a reply. 4,4^.4.4.4.4.4.4.4. I have heard several more or less angry comments upon the term "Britisher" as applied to the people of Great Britain in general and the visiting football team in particular. I suppose there is nothing more in it than the same sort of prejudice that leads an American to object to the term "Yankee" or the placename " 'Frisco," or a West Australian to snort at the word "We3tralia." The only points are that perhaps "Britisher" is the ugliest word of the lot, and that "Briton" is shorter, while it does not suggest that extreme Americanism which is never congenial to the British palate. Besides to say that "the Briton tackled well" has such a definitely footballese sound that I wonder the football reporter did not take up with it instinctively. It's all very fine to say that we're not in England, and that we can call people what we like; but wouldn't it be a sign of gratuitous delicacy on our part to refrain from the use of a word that has certain unpleasant associations for every Briton. I never yet met a true Englishman who did not visibly flinch at the sound of the awful word "Britisher." It doesn't much matter, of course; but if we spare ___. our , maiden aunt the presence of an tin_r _?i c ? ne „ cat ' why Bhould we not g p a " W _fi /Z * and Bisters from tQ at fair W «,, , nt ißland from the irritation of v an unwelcome woTdT Well, I can't help it anynow-it's football again-but really it did strike mc as humorous when I heard it. I was told to-day that the Thames batteries are working tremendously hard just now; and I ingenuously asked why. I thought somebody must have struck something phenomenally rich, and wanted to put a lot through at once before the market went wrong again; but I was soon undeceived. The batteries are working hard because tributers and fossickers and prospectors, and in fact everybody who has any good quartz on hand down there just now is trying to turn it into gold as quickly as may be. But again, why? Well, that's where the football comes in. The good people 0/ the Thames are realising all their assets in the way of "specimens" because, whatever else happens, they mean to rake together enough money to come up to Auckland and see the great match. Now, that strikes mc as really I pathetic—the determination at ail risks and at any sacrifice to see this struggle with their own eyes. lam afraid that it is going to cost the Thames a good deal of money too. I wonder how much good stone will go to procure a ticket for the grand stand in the present state of the market? But it really is a curious illustration of our deadly earnestness in matters of this kind; and I can only hope that the Thames enthusiasts will not be disappointed when the eventful clay arrives. il.tiitiitiil iliilnl 111 I kv k\ TTT I ITTT I hear that there is an agitation going on at our University College on the subject of caps and gowns. It has often struck mc as somewhat strange that the College authorities do not insist upon proper academical costume at all events within the College prec'nets. I can't say that I particularly admire either the gown or the "mortar-board." But that hasn't anything to do with the question. The point is that caps and gowns constitute proper academical costume in ' all British universities, and they are _M____w

recognised as such by our own University Senate. Why, then, are they not in regular use here? It seems to mc very strange that Auckland College should be prepared to diverge from well- | trodden paths in this way. I suppose somebody objects—either the students or the professor*. I can't imagine that the Professorial Board has any real prejudice n git inst (his old world tradition. And if the students object, I suppose it is on'y a matter of laziness with them; and if bo, it can easily be put rght. 1 cannot conceive any University undergraduate objecting to his cap and crown any more than I can imagine a soldier objecting to his uniform. Indeed, it seems to mc that the cap and gown oi".:ht to be to these highly-educat-ed young people exactly what the uniform is to tlic sailor or the soldier—an honourable distinction that they ought to be proud to wear. We hear a good deal nowadays about the need for esprit de corps in our University, and the necessity for impressing the general public with a proper sense of the importance of Auckland University College. It strikes mc that if, instead of indulging in the undignified pranks by which these young persons usually essay to celebrate their Degree Day, they would make a point of wearing caps and gowns, at least within their own College precincts, they would show the people in general much more effectually that they really have genuine respect for their University, and that they take a proper pride in their College and in their connection therewith. I am not going to comment on the merits of the Hospital trouble, since to some extent the matter is sub judice. iiut there is one interesting side issue suggested which is worthy of passing attention. Have you ever noticed how we all love to find a hole in the coat of the specialist? —to question the finding of a judge, the scheme of an engineer, or, as here, the operations of a surgeon? Is it not inwardly the still small voice of the ego, pleading its cause against the arrogant assumption of superiority? 1 am speaking of ourselves, the public, not of the gentleman who voiced our public sentiments on this occasion. At the back of it all I fancy 1 can hear all the time a prodigious big 1 in the implied proposition, "If I were a specialist—if I were in this man's shoes, what would 1 do?" As a fact, you don't the least in the world know what you would do. But for one thing, if you were a surgeon I don't for one moment think that you would kill any more people than you had to. And that for two reasons—that probably you have not the instincts of Bluebeard; and secondly, because people would not naturally entrust their persons to you for dissection if they thought you were. Now, while with all other callings implying special knowledge criticism of n somewhat vigorous nature will probably do little harm, is the same statement tue of surgery? A great deal of good surgery must strike the layman as being rash, and needlessly dangerous, just as the running of a 100 mile an hour train did to all but Mr Behr and his engineers—that is to say, to all but those who were possessed of special knowledge. To reduce the surgeon to a position in which he is dedendent upon a new Mrs Grundy, inspired by excessive caution instead of excessive prudery, seems to mc, not only a little foolish, but distinctly dangerous ! Take confidence from the surgeon's ' hand, and you take courage. All I know is that if two of the most skilful surgeons in the world told mc thai it was necessary to my life to remove three of the most important portions of my inner organisation, and though in my ignorance I thought it was certain to kill mc, by my troth, they should have their way. Perhaps I should be dead at the end, but I am convinced that 1 should have acted wisely. What do you think? ■Mi 111 I iiiThe editor of the "New Zealand Surveyor" suggests some of the penalties incidental to the introduction of the metrical system of weights and measures. For instance: "When a man is dying of a lingering disease we say he is 'dying by inches,' but when the metrical system is introduced the u?e of this expression would become illegal; although I presume it would be permis sible to say of a man in a 'galloping consumption' that he was 'dying by metres.' Instead of saying 'A miss is as good as a mile' we should have to say 'A i *=is is as good as 1.6 kilometres.'" Well, of course, these consequences have their disadvantages. But, who that remembers the days of his childhood, and feels for the children of to-day, will not re joice to think that rods, poles and perches are to be no more. When it comes to a question of having to multiply things in your head by 5J or cOJ the need for a decent, sensible arithmetical system becomes obvious. To this day I am not sure that 1 could bring , inches to miles; certainly 1 should prefer to pay the office boy on a comparatively liberal scale to do it for mc. Then look at the multiplicity of the weights and measures themselves; it is really quite dangerous in these days to buy anything by weight. On the other hand, any ass can move a decimal point to and fro, co long as he does not get into a panic at the mere name of decimals— . which most silly people do. It becomes ; mechanical, mere child's play, a jest, i when compared with such things as gills, ; noggins, perches, kilderkins, minims, tierces, strikes, coombs, cloves, nails, I links, ells, hides, roods, mazes, pecks, - stacks, lasts, tods, hanks, firkins, j warps, puncheons, faggots, fodders, t bundle hanks, crans, butts, palms, quad--3 rants, and pottles. Why, it would take f you half an hour to remember the mere . list of names, quite apart from the ques- . tion of their meanings. I favour change, because it can't bring anything worse, , and it may bring something a good deal better. And some day I may even be able to find out the area of well-made roads in Auckland, though I am told that can be done in his head by the humblest of calculators, and several other problems which are agitating you and mc.