BY THE WAY
[By Q.V.]
“ The time has come,*’ the Walrus said, ■ 4 To talk oI many things."
. Among the many public bodies which more or less control our destinies is the Otago Harbor Board, which has charge of most of our maritime affairs, and is also understood to _ have a sort of reversionary interest in sewerage. Next to being a highly-placed Civil servant approaching the retiring age, or a plumber in active practice, wo think wo would like to he a Harbor Board official. ' Those gentlemen are well housed. The building, if memory serves, was originally designed as a shelter for wharf lumpers, but the wbarfies proudly refused to sell their independence for bricks and mortar. It is situated some distance from tire business quarter. Tho irate importer who wishes to argue the question of dues has plenty of time to cool down .before ho reaches tho scene of action. The higher officers scorn well protected against intrusion by doors marked “ private,” and other obstacles. Their official home commands a good view of the harbor. Tho language characteristic of mariners floats _ in through its windows. Yet, attractive as all these things are, a more powerful lodostono is the board’s habit of inspecting things at a distance. “ Expense,” says tho hoard, “must not stand in the way of efficiency, and the greatest efficiency seems most likely to "bo found at a considerable distance from Dunedin.” At present the board’s engineer is at Homo looking for a dredge. Mr Loudon was to have followed him to assist in tho search, but thought better of it on account of tho cold” weather and for other reasons. There aro signs that a new tug will bo required shortly, and tho board is casting a roving eye towards England again. If outside assistance would bo acceptable, wo know a man ready to start for the Clyde at 'live minutes’ notice. # # # Many writers have dealt ivith Russia, from the optimistic Mr Herbert, who can scarcely have first-hand knowledge, to the pessimistic author of ‘ Men, Beasts, and Gods,’ who had this advantage. Nevertheless, one point has never been touched upon, so far as our knowledge goes, though it is somewhat intriguing. Why have all the prominent Soviet loaders changed their names? Whenever an editor thinks it judicious to give the public some information regarding the latest viper to get ite head above the others in the barrel for the moment, bo begins his article like this;—“Touchemoff, whose real name is Kaskowiskio, was born in tho Government of Mikhailovich, where his parents operated a private vodka factory with considerable success.” It would almost scorn as if these world reformers wore ashamed of their rightful titles for some reason or other. Tho reason must be pretty strong judging by their subsequent actions. The enthusiasts who conducted tho French Revolution wore content with the names given to them by their parents or guardians. When Cromwell took charge of things in England-it never occurred to him to call himself Windovor or Wostermaio. There wore other differences between tho old-style revolutionists and the latest typo, but they might lead as too far afield. This week’s cablegrams record that the Prince of Wales chatted with an aged Oxford cabman who used to drive his Royal grandfather, and tipped the old man whoa the interview terminated. Really, tho Prince should change his Press agent. We do not know the gentleman,"but, whoever ho may bo, he has no sense of nows values. It Is quite clear that ho never acted for a theatrical company, and we doubt very much if ho has ever read a standard hook on advertising published in New York. With tho pull ho has ho can, of course, got anything he wants to see in print published, but that is not the point. Tho laborer should bo worthy of his biro. The Prince tipped a cabby. Who cares twopence for that? An actor would have done tho same, especially if lie happened to have dined well previously, it was tho obvious thing to do, especially in Oxford, Cable editors glanced languidly at thc- iteiu, and reluctantly marked it for insertion. Now, had tho Press agent said that tho Prince heartily cursed the cabman, refused to pay his faro, and kicked his steed in the ribs, every newspaper man in Australia and Now Zealand would have sprung to attention. In America they would have brought out editions with deep black edges. Think of tho opportunities for cross headings. “ England’s Future King Curses Cabman.” “Cruelty to Animals; the Prince of Wales Implicated.” Royal Edward’s name would have boen_ on every lip as soon as the first editions wore distributed. Tho worst of soft jobs is that they kill all initiative. They turn a man into a labor-shirking machine. That Press agent may have been a good man in his day, and the Prince should sack him while he has yet time to reform. * * Spring is near. True, this week has seen the hilltops while with snow, and tho air is eager and nipping. At sea tho helmsman and the look-out wear their oilskins, and tho watch officer his warmest garments. The narcissi blooms are still snugly protested by their green sheaths. Noses are blue, faces are red, and tho pound of coughing is heard in tho land. From his eyrie in Wellington Mr Bates sends out warning weather forecasts. In the wind-swept streets only the coal merchant wears a satified smile, profcsional etiquette and natural goodness of heart debarring doctors from publicly expressing their feelings. Still, spring is at hand. There are signs of it more subtle, indications more elusive, than those recked of by the- man in the street, who judges crudely by Ids own feelings and the thermometer. The price of butter in Auckland has been reduced by Id per lb. Soon it will bo reduced here, and then wo shall know certainly that our expectations will not bo disappointed. For long tho bnttorrnan has _watched for signs and omens. His livelihood (dcfxmcls on intelligent anticipations. Soon, thinks this modern prophet, Blossom and Strawberry will give a richer yield. It is time that I came in out of tho wet. So the butter he lias kept in cold storage throughout tho winter, in order that his fellow-man might not gorge himself unduly with vitamine A fat soluble, com os forth from its icy lair, fair to seo, and reduced in price, despite storage charges. .Tho last statement is tho most eloquent of them all. Spring is certainly at hand. ft ♦ * * Dr Earle Page, the Commonwealth Federal Treasurer, while addressing a gathering of commercial travellers the other day, remarked on.the interesting coincidence that Australia’s exports to and imports from. Britain last year were, of tho same million pounds, lo be exact. _ Wc do not know what the commercials thought about it,: but many a clergyman in a quiet country township, many a widow and orphan, and doubtless, quite a number of other citizens thought: “How fortunate! Wo have just paid our way.” The, doctor’s statement was, no doubt, perfectly accurate so far as it wont, but he might have gone a good deal further and made it appear a good deal v;or?o. He apparently did not mention that fine healthy plant, the Public Debt. Jones is an honest farmer who bolds a large but insufficiently developed area at Cow Creek, which is mortgaged to Smith, Bitem, and Co., Ltd., the eminent stock and station agents. As is only fair, Jones purchases his cornsacks, wool bales, manures, and what not from his creditors, and sends (hem his produce ■ for disposaL If at the and of the year
the value of the stores he received and the produce ho sent away are equal, plainly the interest on the mortgage has to bo provided from some other source, which means borrowing. The moral is obvious, nor can we bold up our hands and thank Heaven that we are not as these spendthrift Australians. At least, we can do so, but whether we should do so is open to question. We have had few Treasurers who could not produce a surplus every year, but what becomes of it is hard to say. It certainly does- not appear to be applied to the reduction of our debts, and if the taxes are slightly lowcrd in one direction it is safe to bet that they have somewhat increased in another.
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Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 19328, 14 August 1926, Page 2
Word Count
1,403BY THE WAY Evening Star, Issue 19328, 14 August 1926, Page 2
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