WITHOUT PREJUDICE

Dominion, Volume 21, Issue 16, 13 October 1927, Page 10

WITHOUT PREJUDICE

NOTES AT RANDOM

(By

T.D.H.)

The recent murders in the Solomon Islands are a reminder that part of the Pacific is still a long way off being civilised. The natives —or most of them —have been educated up to the point of participating in the luxuries of civilisation to the extent of paying taxes. In the more accessible parts each adult male has the honour of paying £1 a year to provide the Government with funds for making him do things he doesn’t want to do. In other parts the rate is down to 10s. a year, and in some islands it is ss. In Malaita, where Mr. Bell, the tax collector, and his party have been murdered by the resentful" tribesmen, the tax of ss. a year, although imposed some years ago, was not collected until recently, and it was anticipated that there would be difficulty in starting the habit.

Killing white men has been very freely indulged in by the Solomon Islanders. Away back in 1851 Mr. Benjamin Boyd, a Sydney capitalist, had a vision of founding a little independent State of his own in a tropic isle where it is always afternoon, and set off in his yacht the Wanderer to the Solomons for the purpose. He incautiously landed alone on Guadalcanal, and that , was the end of the enterprise, for the royalty already in possession had the incoming monarch knocked on the head. In 1859 three white men were murdered on Vanikoro, and a warship went up and loosed off some rounds into the jungle as a mark of disapprobation. In 1871 Bishop Patteson, of Melanesia, was murdered in the Santa Cruz portion of the group, and four years later a similar fate befell Commander- Goodenough of H.M.S. Pearl at Carlisle Bay, Santa Cruz. For many years- British warships visited the Solomons annually to investigate the year’s murder toll of white men. In a number of cases natives were removed for trial before the High Commissioner’s Court at Fiji, but it is said that not a single conviction was ever recorded, as the necessary witnesses to set the iegal machinery working were unobtainable. That was the position obtaining up to the time the British protectorate wxs instituted thirty years back. The chief result of attempting to civilise the Solomon Islanders since then seems to be that they die o;:t.

“Punter” is discontented with the “fast return train” advertised to bring the Clareville race crowd back to Wellington on Saturday. He points out that, according to the advertised time-table, it starts off by doing 14 miles in 45 minutes, reels off the next •25 miles over the range in -2. hours 10 minutes; and hurtles over the final 20 miles in a scant hour, the total time for 59 miles working out at 4 hours 1 minute. . . Our correspondent’s figures may be correct enough, but T.D.H. is informed that the train is quite correctly described as a fast one . . . for the Wairarapa line.

Mr. H. M. Christie writes: —“Apropos of your reference to the reappearance of Falcon Island, in the Tonga Group, I quote from a letter received from Mr. F. R. Field, of Auckland, whose theory concerning causes of earthquakes has aroused much interest. The letter is dated from Auckland on September 28, 1927. In it Mr. Field wrote:—‘l look for decided volcanic activity at our volcanoes and beneath the sea to W.E. and N. of us, with the possibility of one or two new islands appearing, notably near Tonga. . . So far as I can judge from most imperfect data, we may look for an earthquake not far from noon on the 2nd and the next on the 10th.’ ”, Mr. Christie adds that an earthquake occurred on October 1, and -.inother on Tuesday night, October 11.'

It is said that too much slovenly rigmarole is used in writing business. letters nowadays. Perhaps the critics would prefer the simple directness of 1726. Here is a model specimen letter taken from the pages of the “Complete British Tradesman” of that date:— “Sir,—-The destinies having so appointed it, and my dark stars concurring, that I, who by nature was fram’d for better things, should be put out to a trade, and the gods having been so propitious to me in the time of my servitude, that at length the days are expir’d, and ■ I am launch’d forth into the great ocean of business, I thought fit to acquaint you, that last month I received my fortune, which by my father’s will had been my' due two vears past, at which time I arriv’d to man’s estate, and became major; whereupon I have taken a house in one of the principal streets of the town of ——/where I am entred upon my business, and hereby let you know that I shall have occasion for the goods hereafter mention’d which you may send to me by the carrier.” The other day we quoted some freak names bestowed on children in England. A correspondent alleges some local, instances: —“A lady on the West Coast had three lots of consecutive twins: two boys, two girls, and againtwo boys. The’ first two were christened Peter and Repeater, the second two Kate and Duplicate, and the third pair Max and Climax. Needless’to say the good lady had no further offspring. Although I cannot personally vouch for the accuracy of the naming, it is stated to be true to fact.” “Darling,” she said, breathlessly, “one feels as we speed along that life is reallv and truly worth living.” “Yes’,” he replied, “and, judging from the way the pedestrians dodge us, they feel that way, too.” Lawyer: “Yon say you have known the defendant here all your life. Now tell the jury whether you think he would be guilty of stealing this money.” f Witness: “How much was it?” From “Punch”: Mistress (to departing maid who has asked for a reference) : “Of course, Mary, I shall have to tell Mrs. Brown of your uncontrollable temper.” Mary: “Thank you very much, mum. It’ll p’raps make ’er mind ’er P’s and Q’s.” CLIPPER SHIPS. Ships are the nearest things to dreams that hands have ever made, For somewhere deep in their oaken hearts the soul of a song is laid; A soul that sings with the ship along through plunging hills of blue, And fills her canvas cups.of white with winds that drive her through. For how could a nail and a piece of wood, tied with a canvas thread, Become a nymph on moon-washed paths if the soul of the ship were fled?

Her bosom throbs as her lover's arms clasp her in fond embrace, And the joyous kiss of briny lips is fresh on her maiden face. No storm can smother the hempen song that wells in her laughing throat— Small wonder (hen that men go mad for the love of the sea and a boat. For the singing sheet is a siren that tugs at the hearts of men, And' down to the sea they must go once more tho’ they never come back again. --Robert N, Rose, in the "Commofr weal.”