SNAPSHOTS.

Press, Volume LXIII, Issue 19153, 9 November 1927, Page 12

SNAPSHOTS.

[By SCRTTTATOK.]

Personally. I have no politics, but unlike my friend of last week I don't want them. Reformers, Labourites, Nationalists, and what nots are abracadabra to me. Premiers come and Premiers go, from Sir Julius Vogel and Major Atkinson, who have gone, to Mr Coates, who is still here, and seemingly has no intention of going. 1 hare seen them all, mere bubbles on the turgid waters oi Aew Zealand politics. They pass me by as the idle wind which I regard not. And my indifference is not without cause. Can a man touch pitch and not be denied: J Is not the dyer's hand subdued to what it works in.' Questions t-iieso that need no answer. They answer themselves. Hence it is that in my Gveryda}' walk and conversation, so also in "these writings if I mention matters political at all, Ido so reluctantly and impersonally. With this by way" of exordium I bethink me of my friend. He is still suffering from what may be called politicsitis, political rash, itch, or inflammation, lie lnis searched the Parliamentary field from Dan to Beersheba and finds it all barren. Perhaps something outside Parliament would' suit his complaint. If so, [ recommend the NewParty, whereof The Press spoke in its leading columns a week or two ago. It is not yet a Party, but is being organised into one by a Mr Davev All the public knows about it is "what Mr Davev tells them from time to time. He has held meetings in various places and at various times —all secret^—but all enthusiastic. The last was not a meeting. It was a, Conference (big C please), in Wellington, and had a chairman (name not disclosed), who said that as its cardinal principle the new Party would havu no policy. Its members would consist only of those who were disgusted with all existing Parties and policier, and they would frame a policy that would plea-se themselves- A parlous task this, you say. Yes, but the harder the task the more brilliant the accomplishment. This ought to suit my friend down to the ground. He is fully qualified for membership, and should apply to Mr Davey at once. T don't know that gentleman's whereabouts, but it could, no doubt, be discovered by advertisement. If disappointed here, the last and only thing he can do is- to come out as a candidate himself at the next General Election. If he keeps himself well in hand till then and preserves his mind as complete a blank as at present, he will be quite as well qualified as the bulk of the candidates.

The petrol tax is much in evidence just now. Every year three-quarters of a million—about £7 for each motorcar. So The Press the other clay. A good round sum indeed. On close analysis it will be seen that this tax Hike most others) operates on the mind, conscience, and conduct of tho taxpayer in certain well-defined stages and phases. First, he denounces the tax as (a) quite unnecessary and (b) atrociously excessive. Then he abuses the Government for its extravagance. He voted for it last time, but never again. Lastly (if a trader) he sets himself to pass it on to that broadbacked and inarticulate animal, the general public; reserving where possible a slight residuum of profit to his own exchequer. And in so doing he justifies himself. He does it in selfdefence, for as regards all other taxpayers h© is himself one of the general public. Which is true. The general public, whether directly tax-paying or not, usually joins in denouncing the tax and the Government that imposed it. But not always. Near us lives a Mr Brown, a contractor and builder; a very decent fellow who is always ready to send round a man to fix thing,s up in our house. But he has a wife who owns and drives a small motor-car. Her my wife detests. We don't own a motor-car. The tuppny tram contents us. "That creature"—it's astonishing the expression a lady can put into a simple demonstrative pronoun—"that creature goes flaunting about in that car of hers till she'll break somebody's legs or break her own." The ladies are not on speaking terms. I have seen Mrs S. pull down tiie front blind when Mrs B. was driving past. The other morning as I was chipping my breakfast egg and skimming tlie paper I saw The Press leader on the petrol tax and mentipned some of the broadl features. "A splendid tax, £7 a year you say on each motor. That'll make that creature sit up. I only wish it were double— I'd"—cutting her buttered toast as if she were decapit . But no, my devoted wife is sometimes severe, but sanguinary never.

That's one side of the picture, but here's another. 'Not far from us, but in another direction, lives a Mrs Jones. She is a widow with an income, a motor-car, and a chauffeur. She often drives to our place and takes my wife out for a run to Sumner or elsewhere. They are close friends. The other evening at dinner Mrs S. (quite forgetful of Mrs B.) expressed! herself very strongly on the iniquity of the petrol tax. Mrs Jones had told her all about it, and both of them had vowed to. vote against the Government at the next election. I listened in silence and made no reference to _ Mrs Brown and her car. The fact is, I have been married so long, and know so well the importance and fragility of domestic peace, that I never contradict my wife or try to put her in the wrong. This is the golden rule, and I commend it accordingly to all husbands actual or prospective. That night when I laid my head on the connubial pillow and sought the repose that only deep sleep can give I meditated much on the complexes of the feminine mind. Yes, I murmured, those old Romans knew a thing or two —semper mutab —when I dropped off. And I dreamed a dream. Methought I saw an elegant motor-car. On the step stood a lady; Mrs surely not —impossible—and yet . She was suffusing and aspersing Mrs B. (on the ground!) with burning oil out of a tincan labelled "Petrol Tax," whilst the well dowered Mrs Jones (from the window) and a much _ bebuttoned chauffeur (from the driving seat) looked on with calm composure and indifference. If it bo objected to me that through all this screed! not a word has been said about the commercial incidence and effect of the petrol tax mv answer is that in so doing I have avoided a very difficult and painful subject. For which let the reader be thankful and pass on.

I often wonder how much we Christchurch people know of Christchurch. I ask this because I know so little myself—or rather knew so little until within the last three weeks. And the way of it was this. When passing through Cathedral square I noticed a monument —the Godley monument (or to prevent possible_ misunderstanding in the minds of tho ignorant, let me call it the monument or statue of Mr Godley). with its entablature, "The Founder of Canterbury." This roused curiosity iind led to research, the result whereof I now give for the benefit of all- « the founder of Canterburv. he was presumably the founder of "Christchurch, its capital City. Now, whether owing to the pious suggestion of his name or not, I cannot tell, but Christchurca r? on strictly episcopal lines. Cathedral square was eo named on the map long before the Cathedral was bum. All the streets are named after Knglisli bishoprics—Hereford street, Gloucester street, and so on- And as oents the sacred association of the names all the streets are spacious and Btyctl? straight. Their rectitude car-

ries with it a deep moral lesson. I sav all the streets —but no—there is one secular streets. This is High street. But here also a deep moral lesson is conveyed to tho discerning mind. For High "greet is narrow and crooked — clearly embleming the world, the flesh, and the devil. I decline to believe that this accounts for the fact that High street is the busiest place in the City, as it unquestionably is. No; we live up to the standard of our high calling as citizens of the most religiouslyplotted citv in New Zealand—lot scoffers sav what they will. It may be that wo "don't wear our religion on our sleeves for daws to peck at, but I impute this solely and wholly to the constant incursion of pagans from. Wellington, Dunedin, and parte beyond the seas.