BY THE WAY

Evening Star, Issue 19776, 28 January 1928, Page 2

BY THE WAY

[By Q.V.] " Th; time has come,” the Walrus said, “ To talk of many things/' To deport, or not to deport, that is the question. The Government has given several Samoan citizens to understand that their talents are being wasted in a tropical island, and that they had better try their luck elsewhere. The native Samoans retaliate by a boycott of New Zealand goods and passive resistance_ to the law. ahe exiled ones say little as yet, but wo shall hear from them later on. ies, we shall not forget them if they can help it for some time to come. Mr Holland, ever ready to champion a lost or losing cause, tells the Prime Minister what he thinks of him with the verbal facility of which he is a master. We should not wonder if the League of Nations took up the matter. It is the kind of thing it does take up from time to time with conspicuous success. We do not know any more about the matter than you do, possibly less, so cannot give you any unpublished information. Icebergs are said to show one-third of their mass above water, the balance being coyly concealed underneath. In political matters about the same proportion is observed. About a third of the facts are disclosed, and two-thirds are treated as private and confidential. We wish we knew some of the two-thirds. We feel sure that they would make interesting reading. Me are convinced, however, that Mr Coates felt pretty sure of his ground before taking the extreme step of deportation. Those men were not casual beachcombers, but reputedly wealthy and influential. It is said that Lever Bros., the great soap people, have bought a share in Mr Nelson’s interests for a substantial sura. Such men are not bundled out of the country like runaway sailors. It is borne in on us that the Prime Minister pondered over the great truth laid down by Shakespeare that if two men ride on a horse one must ride behind, and he finally decided that lie would ride in front.

* * * * We hac] imagined that the Daylight Saving Bill was now accepted finally, either with gratitude, or, at worst, with sulky acquiescence, but we were mistaken, as one so often is. We 1 ergot the bulldog-like tenacity of the farmer. “The stubborn spearsmen still make good, their dark impenetrable wood,” ns one might say. The Southland Farmers’ Union the other day hailed with approbation a suggestion that Mr Sidey should he burned in effigy, and one stalwart stated that his wife cursed that legislator regularly every morning, though whether before or. after family prayers he omitted to say. We really cannot see what all the fuss is about, and the rural gentlemen do not condescend to particulars. After all, there are only twenty-four hours in each day, and their "subdivision would seem to be a matter of public convenience. The farmers maintain that this .is precisely the point. The present allotment, they say, is not convenient to them. We may bo dense, but we fail to see why. Nor do we speak altogether ignorantly, having been “on the land” for a brief space ourselves. In those long ago days'we went out under the wide and starry sky what time the pearly dawn was ‘breaking, and returned when it was ton dark to see anything without a candle. We then mended agricultural machinery, greased harness, valeted the Clydesdales, and brought in the wood for the morning. After that wc had the whole of the rest of the evening to ourselves. It would certainly have been a matter of indifference to us whether a Daylight- Saving Bill became lav/ or otherwise. We made use of all tho--daylight that. was. going, and could do no more. In those clays the farmer was,not quite so vocal as he is now, and had not any union to he a nightmare to the Government. » * * * Wellington intended to play Taylor, the Nelson professional, against Otago in the Phmket Shield match, and presumably will play him against Auckland. The discussion which ensued proves again that cricket is one .of the most sporting of games. The Wellingtonians have a professional of their very own, but as Nelson is within the. jurisdiction of the Wellington Association, they considered that they had a right to Taylor’s services as well. The question before the jury is: Were they justified in this assumption? According to the strict letter of the law, it may lie that they were. Considered from the ethical point of view, it is a very moot point. We are so jealous of. any smirch on the good name of cricket that we would fain see Wellington leave Mr Taylor in Sleepy Hollow. As the poet might have said: “We could not love the game so much, loved we not honor more.” We are afraid that even in cricket there is a tendency to let the end justify the means, a most dangerous doctr to. It was this spirit which converted war from being a rough, hut not excessively dangerous sport for the upper classes into the grim business that it now is. _ At this time of day one can hardly believe that the use of the crossbow was once regarded as unsportsmanlike, and the weapon was formally banned by. the Lateran Council in 1139. Such distinguished soldiers as the Chevalier Bayard and Marshal Saxo protested against the employment of firearms, and there is a certain sardonic humor in the fact that the Prussians wanted to outlaw explosive bullets in 1868, and were strongly opposed by the British, All these weapons came in because men wanted very much to win, and were not particular as to how they won. We hopo that cricket will continue to shine like a good deed in a naughty world for many years to come.

« * * ” Too true, ive lost the Cornwell Cup When well within our hands, Though why we had to give it up No fellow understands. The North the Blanket Shield retains Beyond recall, this year. Some say, when counting up our gains, “The times are out of gear ” And yet our brow is far from sad, We relish meat and drink, For things are hardly quite as bad As people seem to think. We see a Golden Age ahead, When peace and calm shall rule; For in a little while, ’tis said, The boys go back to school. Each age, as sages say, appears To have its fitting toys; And those delighting youthful years Are chiefly marked by noise. Youth throws its crackers at our feet, While empty tins resound; Each morn we know that we shall meet Some new, infernal sound. Although we hardly deem it true, ■ So sweet and strange it seems, Within another day or two We realise our dreams. We shall not hear mouth organs blow Discordant melody, Our boys shall. be at school, “And, oh, The difference to me.” •mssßai * * * « We feel flattered at having discovered someone, and a lady at that, who says that she reads this column and usually enjoys it. Alas, she immediately proceeds to refer with some severity to a last Week’s paragraph wherein it was stated _ that the .most unusual place in which* to find the" modern girl was her home, and her most

unusual work_ domestic duties. Our critic inferentially accuses us of being a reactionary—an anachronism in tho present gay and expansive times. _ May we humbly point out that we did not offer any opinion as to whether present day tendencies are good or bad. We merely noted them in passing, and the correctness of the observation seems to be borne out by “ Mother of Six ” herself. If hard pressed, we would say that the modern girl is a very charming creature, just as charming as her mother was before her, and, her grandmother before that. As .we have often maintained, her clothing is becoming and healthy. Her open-air life promises well for the future of the race. She is, as a rule, frank and cheerful, and some of her takes an intelligent interest in science, politics, and similar subjects which were formerly “left to the gentlemen.” Fundamentally, she is just plain woman, the same feminine that has stimulated and baffled male curiosity since tho Stone Age. As Mrs Poyser said, she is made to match the men. The more things change, the more woman remains the same. 'When by chance we meet the lost loves of our boyhood, we often find, like Calverley, that they Have at least a dozen wee things; Yes, we see them darning corduroys, , Scouring Hoors, and setting forth the tea things For a howling herd of hungry boys.