BY THE WAY.
[By Q.V.]
11 Tlie time has come,’* the Walrus said, “ To talk of many things. 0 We like to keep an eye on New South Wales. Not only for the sake of old times, but also because the conditions there to-day may be those in this dominion to-morrow. The same forces are at work, though with different degrees of strength. There is also the advantage of detachment. We are not influenced by the fact that the scoundrel, or patriot, as the case may be, who brought in any particular Bill is a cousin to our wife’s uncle. If wo disagree with the gentleman’s politics, but approve of his measure, we can frankly say that things might have been worse. If the legislation comes from our side we have no scruples in proclaiming that it is the finest Bill ever brought iorward since the Israelites gave the Egyptians a lesson in practical Socialism, as distinguished from the Fabian or highbrow variety. So we are sorry to sec that the Premier, Mr Lang, is haring what is known in the University Club as a “ rough spin.” Ho' thought that it would smooth his path greatly if the Upper House was abolished, and ho appointed a number of new members pledged to bring it to an end. M T hen these gentlemen had a look at their new quarters they found them so agreeable and the company so congenial that the pledges were forgotten. Air Lang decided to send a contingent oi ladies to carry out his wishes, but tho Governor, who is an admiral, and (as a seaman ) devoted to the sex, refused to permit women to be exposed to the language sometimes used in debate. Air Lang, with tho dogged persistence qi King Bruce’s spider, though there is no other resemblance, now wants the Foreign Office to recall the Governor; but tho Foreign Office is far away, and has a lot of other matters on hand just now. AVo rather fancy the Governor’s chances. » •» * » We knew that it would come. Air A. AI. Low. who is a sort of minor prophet attired in one of H. G. Wells's old mantles, predicted it, and Mr Shannon, described as of Warwickshire, has fulfilled it. Tho latter gentleman lias communicated with us by wireless, using neither earth nor aerial, but a. pocket apparatus of his owu invention. In a few hundred years, by touching the appropriate buttons, we shall see what is going on, behind the scenes at the League of Nations Conference, hear the remarks made by tho local hank manager in his private office as he scrutinises our overdraft (though, indeed, sometimes we may do this now), and have a chat with the Trotsky ol the period without leaving our armchairs. M’e shall be dressed in hygienic, hut uncomely, one-piece boiler suits, warmed by electricity, which can be heated up again if necessary at bowser-looking affairs in the streets. Youth will lament the hold, free, adventurous days of the twentieth century, when brave men and braver women drove motor cars in hill-climbing competitions, used insanitary telephones, took books recking with bacilli from the libraries, and fought for seats in tramenrs like cave men wrestling lor a. juicy hone. “Ah!” they will say, “ there was romance then. Horses were not uncommon, even in cities. Once, in Dunedin, a city councillor saw two dogs at one time in a busy street._ The brutes did not seem abashed either. They went on playing tig round the. verandah posts. Even belief in magic had not wholly passed away. When you called in a doctor the first thing von did was to poke out your tongue at him, and he said ‘ Urn, um,’ and made signs on a small piece of paper.” And to think that Air Shannon and his like arc changing all this. Confound them 1
The Dunedin Hospital building is not very beautiful, but within its walls many good deeds are done every hour in the sad twenty-four. Most of those whoso misfortunes have imprisoned them there for longer' or shorter periods speak gratefully of the attention received from the medical men and nurses, whose sympathies oven tho constant sight of suffering has failed to blunt. Unfortunatlly, there are others who, either from carelessness or sheer callousness, are not so considerate. The beneficial influence of quietness has long been known. Noise is positively harmful, even in health, and in sickness it may be dangerous. Yot day after day people dash past the hospital on snorting motor cycles; heavy motor lorries groan, creak, and rattle; and lumbering drays and other minor disturbances contribute to the general racket. Some of this traffic is perhaps unavoidable, but- much of it could certainly ho diverted to other streets without inconvenience to speak of. To pass hours which drag like days lying helpless in a hospital ward is unpleasant under the best conditions; and, through no fault of the hospital authorities, those prevailing are far from ideal.
It is probable, as has been said, that tho nearest one can got to realising one’s own funeral is to imagine oneself lying in a comfortable cofiiu listening to the flattering remarks of the mourners, such as “ I wonder how much ho left?” “ Someone told mo that he did not get on very well with his wife,” and so on. The Rev. Alexander James Carlyle, who died in England the other day, did Ills best, however, to' see that things were carried out ns lie wished. He personally arranged the details before his 1 demise, and, ns he desired tho service to be cheerful, instrheted the organist to play the ‘Merry Widow’ waltz nil or the ceremony. We entirely disagree with the deceased gentleman. Not ns regards his -wish to avoid gloom, hut as to the means employed. We loathe, hate, and detest the Merry Widow, and her waltz is perhaps tho worst thing about her. Tho fact that she ransomc enormous number of nights in London to crowded houses merely proves the deplorable taste of the audiences. If tho late Mr Carlyle wanted innocent musical merriment at Ids funeral ho might at least have chosen something from one of the Gilbert and Sullivan operas, instead of the sticky sweetness of the ‘ Merry Widow.’ Even composers who have been dead long enough to qualify their works ns classics have, in forgetful moments, perpetrated bright and tuneful numbers, one of which might have been selected. Evidently a man may be a historian and an economist, and be on visiting terms with the ex-Kai-ser, and yet lie imperfectly educated.
Young men on probation did not mind a short term of imprisonment, which they thought wiped out their liabilities. So tho Rev. Mr Gumming, probation officer. If taken to tho station, While yet on your probation, And the Law looks somewhat sourly on your case, Conceal your great elation, Assume some indignation ; Wear a sort of wistful sadness on your * face. Show little of repentance While waiting for your sentence; Though the heart within you leaps with perfect joy, Restrain vour happy humming, In case that Mr Gumming Or some lawyer gets his eye on yon, my boy. Your inmost feelings smother; Do not call the bobby “ brother,” _ Lest a slip between the cup and lip appears; In tho end all will he well. When you’re safely in your coll. And the magistrate has cancelled tho arrears. fr Though, unfortunately, It is very likely that he will ■do nothing of the kind.
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Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 19197, 13 March 1926, Page 2
Word Count
1,250BY THE WAY. Evening Star, Issue 19197, 13 March 1926, Page 2
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