BY THE WAY

Evening Star, Issue 19758, 7 January 1928, Page 2

BY THE WAY

[By Q.V.I

U Thi time has come,'* the Walrus said, “ To tilU of many things. *’ We cannot all go to Mount Cook, or Queenstown, or .Stewart island for our holidays. Time, financial considerations, the cares of a young family, a dozen different reasons keep many cooped up, as they say, in town. Are they so cribbed, cabined, and confined us they think P We venture to say that there is not another town in. Australasia of similar size which has so many beautiful and accessible pincers where one can spend a day, or more if desired, away from the sights and sounds of the streets. The Ocean Beach is at our very doors. Behind its handbills one may “ feel the salt spray on one’s lips ” within half an hour of leaving home. Beyond lies Tomahawk Beach, equally spacious, equally remote from the everyday. To those whoso limbs are strong and supple, invitations come from every point of the compass, or from a good many of them, to leave our sandwich papers and empty lemonade bottles. Trampcrs may walk to Portobello by the High road, and see the harbor on one side and a considerable section of the Pacific on the other. They can go up the Leith Valley and emerge at Waitati, or trudge over the Junction, branch off to the right halfway down the hill, and either make their way to one of the northern beaches or circle round to Port Chalmers. Flagstaff and the regions beyond beckon to them and the coast line from St. Clair to Black Head offers its attractions. To those who own cars, provided that the things will go when wanted, the range is correspondingly wider. A semi-circle, with Dunedin as its centre and a radius of twenty miles or so, embraces many delectable spots, from the view northwards on the Karitane road to the foxgloves of Outram Glen and the river of Taieri Mouth. We can at least plume ourselves on our local scenery when the local climate permits of its enjoyment. • * * *• The case of the Commonwealth Line bo’sun may make history, or, more likely, be a week’s wonder and for the rest—silence. This mariner, you may remember, was tried by a jury of his peers—that is, by the Seamen’s Union—' on a charge or having carried tales from the forecastle to the ship’s officers. He was found guilty and sentenced to resign from his ship and refrain from shipping in another vessel for the space of one year. The legality of the decision seems doubtful, but the bo’sun knew better than make a test case of it. He refused an offer of reinstatement made by the owners, and presumably seeks a job ashore. All of this suggests several things. One is that when vessels are stuck np by unofficial strikes those in authority profess powerlessness. They are, they say, unable to control their members. They seem to underrate their strength, judging by the meekness with which the bo’sun bowed to their verdict. It almost looks as though he feared something might happen to him if he went to sea again without being purged of his sin. Again, had the black-listing been done by the employers—as has been the caso in the past, if all tales be true—can you not near the roar of oratory and see the gallons of ink calling attention to the injusticeP Another point is that there does not appear to have been any inquiry as to the nature of the “ tales ” which were told. The gravity of the charge lay in communicating with the hated afterguard at all. The bo’suu on a big steamer is a person of some authority, and usnsally his sympathies lie aft, rather than before, the mast. This particular petty officer may have judged it his duty to give a hint about something or other, and he may have been perfectly right in his assumption. We feel rather sorry for the bo’sun, and still more so for the attitude of his judges. « * * 1*

The last crop of New Year honoi's seems below the average in quantity and above it in quality. Whoever cultivated it must have been a conscientious gardener. As democrats, ususally referred to as “sturdy,” we despise titles, the more easily as few of us will ever suffer the indignity of having one offered to ns. Should such a thing happen our first thought would be to reject the label. “An honest man’s the noblest work of God,” and to put a title in front of his name would be, at best, an attempt to paint the lily. We are, however, a courteous people, and hate to give_ unnecessary pain. We would immediately consider what would be the feelings of His Majesty King George the Fifth if we declined his invitation to join the upper classes. Naturally, lie would feel very_ much hurt, the more so as he is not in personal touch with the best thought of the dominion. It is probable, one would think, that the poor man attaches a;n importance to such gauds which we, brought up in the light of a better dispensation, cannot admit. In addition, titles, though but sounding cymbals and tinkling brass, have admittedly a strong attraction ior women. One loves one’s wife, or ought to do so, and it would not be fair to deprive her of what, after all, would be the innocent pleasure of calling herself Lady so and so. Our heart would molt a little as we thought how she would enjoy rubbing it in when the neighbors called for afternoon tea, anti to mentally estimate the price of the new carpet. So the ayes have it, as ussual. It is not that we have lost faith in the honest man theory, but even if one is one of the noblest efforts of creation, it does no harm to let others know about it in case they might overlook the fact.

It is natural and prudent to pause occasionally to take stock of our surroundings and attempt to estimate what lies ahead, and no more fitting season for such a work than the New Year can well bo imagined. Unfortunately most of us are but ill-fitted for the role of prophet. W© have not sufficient information on which to hazard more than a guess. Those behind the scenes arc not very communicative, and when they do drop a hint or two one sometimes has an uneasy feeling that it may be for interested motives. Nevertheless, wo face another year’s activities with more than usual optimism. Internationally there is _ evidently a very deep and sincere desire for peace. The latest manifestation of this feeling is the excellent proposal made by France to America that war between these two nations should be outlawed, and the equally sensible suggestion of Uncle Sam that if such a treaty is ratified other nations should be free to add their names to it if they so desire. Such a move would not kill war, but it would take it an appreciable step forward on its way to ultimate execution. Another almost equally important matter, industrial peace, looks much brighter than it used to do. Both masters and men have had several severe frights of late years, and seem to have come to the conclusion that “ if they do not hang together they will hang separately.” Wisely they seem to prefer to hang together, and matters have so far advanced that Mr A. J. Cook has been warned that if he attempts to put a sprag in the wheel of the negotiations something drastic may happen to him. He can take comfort from the Tact that anyone attempting such a thing will be hunted for as zealously —and, if captured, dealt with as severely—as if Mr Cook were a member of tne Primrose League itself.

Our poor old friend Trotsky is having a sad New Year. He has lost his job of governing, and declined to the status

of one of the governed—a very ddicrcni thing in even the most advanced communities. He seems to have laden a victim to the go-slow policy. ,H.c wanted to case up and take things quietly—a very natural feeling when one has provided for old age and removed a. good many adversaries irom one’s path. Unfortunately the popular leader is only popular while be is leading. As soon ns he stops waving Ins country’s flag and shouting “Hurrah, or “Banzai!” or whatever may bo ns national anthem, his maim, departs. JJe is lucky if lie manages to preserve Hie unconsidered irilies lis collected m ms more ardent youth. Trot ska - has a good many strenuous years behind him, more, wc fancy, than lie is likely to have before him, and revolution, htatebuilding, and the championship ol tne proletariat of the world is a voiy exhausting business. V»e should not wonder if he sometimes thinks of settling down in London and giving popular lectures on 1 Personages 1 Have Met and What Happened to Them.’ There might be some difficulty in getting away Irom the love and admiration of his countrymen, but if anyone can do it Trotsky is the man. His moral code might prejudice him among strangers at first; an indignant lady named Kuhn, who had considerable first-hand experience of Russia, described him as “dog-like in his amors,” but he might live that down. Wo really think that lie should try a change of "air, and very probably he thinks so also. » * * » “There were 22S income millionaires in the United States oj America at the end of 1926.” —News item. A millionaire, you cannot deny. Has not such worries as you and I; There are no darns in his nice silk socks. His wife has always tho latest I rocks, He goes to bed whenever he likes. He lacks no coal when the miner strikes. The people hang on his lightest word. No one dares say to him “ that’s absurd ”; He has, as they say, whole troops of friends As long as he draws his dividends. If any life can he free from care, It’s that of a healthy millionaire. If,we by chance were a millionaire (Such things have happened here and there), Such affluence could with ease afford A brand new dredge for tho Harbor Board, While effigies of every mayor Would beautify the Anzac square; The hospital, too, could take a lot. Some schools need a larger playing plot; The League of Nations should have its share, The Navy League, too, to make things fair; And after a brief, eventful reign We should go back to our work again.