BY THE WAY.

Evening Star, Issue 14001, 6 March 1909, Page 9

BY THE WAY.

If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive Vn'l rom my father.—‘ Henry And rash enthusiasm in good society Were nothing but a moral inebriety. Byron. With a few poor, but enthusiastic, talkers on Temperance in Dunedin, “enthusiasm,” as Bishop Warbnrlon has it, “ that temper of the mind in which the imaginaton has got the better of the judgment.” In the Press of Now Zealand their microscopic eyes behold the Devil in print, which is a different thing from the printers’ devil. The Press, it seems, know not the grace of God. They live on pandering to vested interests; they are against all moral reform : virtue has gone out of them; in a word, they are, like Abdul Hamid, “ damned and damnable.” ’Tis a strong indictment. Happily, however, a true bill cannot be returned in the face of evidence, which shows that the Press are innocent. Occasionally, it is true, the Press arc crncl to he kind, much in the same manner ns a father spanks his erring child. To these who doubt the broadmindedness of the Now Zealand Press a study of the files will be like an education. Road the miles of rubbish talked by Temperance “ orators.” That is proof of sympathy, if you like. Such sympathy, it seems, is not enough. All that the Devil has to give, he it bad or gonj, is desired. To be good, to do good, one needs must shriek to close the hotels. It does not ma tter a tinker’s curse whether or not the shutting of the door on one evil lets a worse enter. Close the hotels and give the No license enthusiets a chance to bo silent. Such a reward would almost tempt a pressman to forget the value of moderation in all things. But the ravings of to-day were fully explained long ago by Cowper, who said : No wild enthusiast ever yet could rest. Till half mankind were like himself possess’d. * * * * * -f * A Socialist leader in the North appears !o see a way nut of the unemployment difficulty. He would have us believe that the unemployed would he glad to take on the work the prisoners are doing in New Zealand, and that the time is coming when i man will have to go to gaol to get honestwork. He suggests that the State should start vegetable gardens, and give the unemployed a chance to work. In theory the suggestion is good. To make it a success „ In practice, however, one hard-and-fast condition would have to be laid down by the Arbitration Court. That condition is this : [’reference shall be given to unemployed Socialists. There is nothing like a hit of delving to cure a man with burning ambition. The smell of fresh-turned soil cools 'he overheated brain. ****** * In the face of the strenuous rush to get into Parliament nowadays by so many men who have more need to' rush to school, it is good to know that there is at least, one politician in New Zealand with a childlike honesty of speech. Speaking at a social the other night, Mr F. Y. Lethbridge. once a parliamentarian, said : “Don’t ever try’ to get into Parliament. For a month before the elections vou have to go about speaking the same beastly rot night after night; it’s fairly sickening. That’s one of the reasons why I am glad to be out of politics.” That is »n open confession, if you like. Perhaps the fact that he had to speak “ the same beastly rot ’’ night after night, which is more than fairly sickening to the hearers, is one of the reasons why his constituents may find pleasure in seeing him out of politics. ******* Love and domestic .trouble smoothed out; strictly confidential; send Is in stamps.—Advertisement. The greatest boons to suffering mankind ire always the cheapest. The greatest humbugs are cheaper. The claims of charlatans are colossal. Imagine anyone trying to make the course of true love run smooth for no greater reward than twelve penny postage stamps! Impossibility nowadays, however, is unknown, and lover’s may be kept in perpetual happiness for a shilling. If so, let the godsend get to work. Let the wizard or the witch who claims ability to smoothen the most ruffled business in the world stand forth and earn fame and fortune in saving New Zealand from a tremendous expenditure on the upkeep of prisons and other places. Prevent murder and suicide, and, what is worse than either—nagging by women. There is no necessity for doing such great work in a “strictly confidential” manner. Proclaim the knowledge from the housetops, and enlarge the nation’s happiness. ******* Open, unabashed begging from the Government is a growing habit in New Zealand that requires a check. A Cabinet Minister, who has nothing to give, is balled throughout the land as a kind of political Santa Claus. If you want a picket fence around your property, or a domestic servant to do a little in the kitchen, ask the aid of the Government to help you gain your needs. It is a matter for surprise that Cabinet Ministers can keep calm when worried to death by deputations begging ‘‘their rights.” As for the Prime Minister, men are actually sorry for him when ho visits Christchurch. “ From the time be arrives until the moment of his departure he is regarded as the fair game of the politician, the depirtationist (an ugly word), and the reporter. No breathing space is given him.” Admitting all that, and more, it must be said that he is very fortunate. How would ho have fared if the woman suffragette had been in New Zealand? The men are bad enough. Now that the season of legislation-making is coming, a Bill for the suppression of political begging should bo in the course of preparation” It could be named “ The Encouragement of Independence Bill.” New Zealanders apparently forget that God helps those who help themselves, as is happily shown in the case of a Highlander who, when advised by a minister to return thanks to Providence for a narrow escape from drowning, replied ; “ Hooch, aye, vess, yess, Providence wass coot, hut I wags ferry clever myself too whatefer.” * * * * * * * In the etiquette of juvenile courtship a certain recognised course of action is provided for likely contingencies. Thus, when the recently-smitten swain seeks to announce his condition by the proffering of a keepsake or a floral tribute as “a slight token of the respect and esteem which the many good qualities ” of the lady have suddenly .stirred up in his breast, she will probably advise him to “ throw his rubbish where he throws his love.” It is at once an acceptance of a challenge, a parrying of the first thrust, and (the most important of all) an opening for a more definite advance bv her would-be wooer. Councillor Tom Field is has made a neat paraphrase of the precept, and transferred its application from the realms of love to those of politics. “ Spend your money where you’ve got most friends.” Such was his advice the other clay to a Minister of the Crown. The Lily Council, you remember, organised a deputation last week to the new Minister of Railways. I hey wanted liim to asphalt the approach to the railway station, and he "did not quite know whether the department could spare monev for such a purpose. Then spake South’ Dunedin. The unblushing avowal upset the gravity of councillors and Minister, but Or F'iddis emphasised it with the sage nod and comprehensive wink to the reporters that generally accompany his inspirational interjections. That wink is a thing apart “There’s a tit bit for you, mv bov Tliafli shake them Up.” This, and a world more, it conveys. -But sometimes the perverse and dainty creatures nose tho morsel, and leave it untouched. A piece of preserved ginger would be out of place in an Irish stew. So Ah- Millar laughed, Mr Fid(l is winked, and tho ginger was left over to become less piquant. There is a sort of Tammany flavor about it. One can imagine a lambing-down publican whispering such advice to a fuddled shearer who talks about moving along the road and knocking down the rest of his cheiiue in town. However, Mr Millar says that he gets ali kinds of advice on how to run his department. Let us hone that this particular bit escapes the notice of Auckland, or the JUt will be is the tiro. •

Theatrical managers have been shaking' their heads over Dunedin as “not a good show town” these days. If they think that Dunedin has been putting on its swallow tail, its evening' 1 blouse, and pet “ switch ” to patronise local functions, and remaining at home in slippers and curl papers despite the advance agent’s eloquent and exhaustive preliminary puff pars about tlxs touring company’s excellence, they fall in badly. We have not been reversing the 1 Scriptural saying about the prophet’s honor in his own country. Dunedin has this week been shamefully neglecting one of the best entertainments ever put before them by exclusively local talent. And a free show, too—not even a collection. The company consists of five local amateurs un- ' dcr the stage management of that seasoned warrior Air G. B; Nicholls. They have had exceptional notice given them in tho Press, but the patronage accorded has been poor. Tho merits of tho performers, deserved something better from the public. .Mr J. A. Wilkinson, tho “juvenile lead’’ of the company, is a raconteur of the first order. His talcs of the surprise visits paid by the whole-hog Licensing Committee of 1903 arc tepid perhaps, but at the same time striking illustrations of the art of making something out of nothing—and that, after all, is the story-teller’s business. To hear him assume tho brogue and describe tin Irish publican’s agitation on hearing that surh a. formidable man as Air AVilkinson 1 and his confreres arc having a night out brings consolation for the untimely death of Johnny Sheridan and his Widow •O’Brien. Mr King’s moving pictures are better than anything that the Fuller-At’ln-iosh or AYest’s cinematographs can show. To the newspaper world Air King used to | be known simply as an industrious borough ; councillor in North-east Valley, with a : keen nose for defective drainage and a ; special knowledge of tho by-laws regarding wandering cattle. Evidently he has a soul above such things. Tho debates in the Yalley Council over the little bit of scenic reserve near Hangman’s Gully, combined with tho recent visit of Wirth’s Circus, started a fresh train of thought within him, and tho result is his poetic flight at Afornington on Wednesday night. It is safe to say that since John Banyan’s day no more beautiful allegory has been given birth to than Air King’s creation, “The Tiger on the Town Belt.” Momxjs.