BY THE WAY

Evening Star, Issue 20020, 10 November 1928, Page 2

BY THE WAY

[By Q-V.3 ■‘ The time has come, the Walrus said, ■To talk ol many things.” It was the pleasing custom of the Into Jack Johnson (we suppose ho is “ the Jato ” Jack Johnson) to abuse his opponents as vigorously as possible before and during his fights, the idea being to thus “rattle'’ them and make-them too angry to be cautions, gome similar motive seems to actuate the opposing politicians and their henchmen at present. “No case; abuse the other side,” appears to be the word passed round, and many a candidate is learning what some consider the truth about himself for , the first time. It seems a childish policy, and lays one open to reprisals, if the other party is prepared to come down to the same level. How many could ha'ie their lives laid'bare without the loss of reputation? Very, very few. Even tho best of us have a page or two which would look better if it were erased. If public life wore , reserved for the spotless, Wellington would have a deserted appearance when Parliament was supposed to bo sitting, and even less august bodies would find their membership reduced. _ Many a rascal may be a good politician, and even a statesman, as history abundantly proves. We would fain believe better things of our public men than wo are asked to do. We have a conviction that even the Communistic tiger may be a quiet, .playful animal in his own home, especially after meals, though we do not like ins looks in .business hours. 11, as asserted, Mr Diiwnio Stewart lias deceived the electors of Dunedin West, we do not care a button. Ho certainly has not deceived us. as we have never read or heard any of his public utterances. Whether Mr Tapley would have done better by putting his money into fruitcanning in New Zealand instead of into an Importing company is purely a private and personal matter to be decided by Mr Tapley himself. The day he proposes to separate us from our little stocking for any purpose whatever we shall speak in loud, resonant tones. Till then, silence. * * « » When Gordon spoke at Wanganui Wo don’t knorv what they did there—do we? Well—some applauded him—some hissed him, And one man throw an egg—which missed him. The chance this incident afforded His papers missed—not one recorded That Gordon’s eloquent oration Was greeted there by an ovation! » * * » It is a relief to pass from the somewhat sordid annals of politics" to the comparatively clean records of sport, and especially tho sport of sports—to wit, cricket. So far, tiie English team has not had an opportunity to win a match, the weather having prevented both the Adelaide and _ Melbourne games from going to a finish. So far as one can judge, the visitors appear to be a very strong team, and it is quite possible that they may secure a majority of tho tests. Wo rather hope they will. It is not good for the game when one side has an unbroken scries of successes. It is not good for anyone to bo always on tho winning side in anything. A set-back now and again puts a man on his mettle, and reduces his head measurement. Even in cricket there are signs that what started as a game may end up ns a business. Unless a man is prepared to, deyote himself entirely to bat and ball ho has little if any hope of getting into an English county team. This, of course, shuts out the greater part of- tho population from the higher branches of the pastime, and introduces a commercial element which sooner or later will spoil all. A man must live, and if he has to devote the most of his time to cricket, then he must so contrive matters that cricketmust support him directly or indirectly. In other words, he must be a professional, cither avowed or unavowed. It is an open secret that the great W. G. Grace lived “ on the game” during the latter part of his life, although he never lost his amateur status. The English professionals arc a very fine body of men, and probably play in fully as sporting a. spirit as the amateur, but that is partly because they follow a high tradition, and partly because they are built that way. Long may the game be so played, but wo would like to see it less of a business and more of a recreation than it now is, » •» * » One of the parliamentary candidates at present going up and down the land seeking whom they may persuade to vote for them informed his audience that if Sir Joseph Ward got his famous seventy million pounds loan, he (the candidate) would see that tho money was well and_ truly spout. Ho was evidently looking for an easy job, and one in which he would have plenty of assistance. There. is nothing in the world more easy than to spend money. Suppose you have saved a hundred pounds, as • we hope you have. The desire of nearly every person in the community is to transfer that sura, or as much of it as possible, to his own pocket. For your cash the shop windows are filled with most alluring wares. The company promoter marks you for his own. All sorts of societies will yearn to acquire you as a member. You will find enemies in your own household. At meals the conversation will turn on the merits of gramophones, and the rcmaikably small deposit required to obtain a secondhand motor car. Unless you are a person of unusual firmness of mind, the little nest egg will shrink into a shadow in no time. If such dangers encircle a mere private individual who owns a hundred pounds, think of the plight of a treasurer with millions in tho cashI)ox and many thousand electors clamouring on the door step. Now, if the candidate had said that he would make it ids business to see that the monev borrowed should bo well and truly’repaid on tho due date, he would have undertaken a man’s job; yet most probably ho would not have been allowed’ to leave the hall alive had he hinted at any such thing. » «• » » We were very pleased to see the name of Mr J. MacManus among those of the multitudinous Press correspondence on political matters. Not that wo agree with Mr MacManus, but ns a proof that his health is sufficiently (rood to enable him to take an interest in current events. We have a lot of regard for Mr MacManus, and would be delighted if his humanitarian dreams came true. We would also bo delighted should some long-forgotten relative leave us a large legacy, profitably and safely invested. The chances of either of these happening are about equal, and no sane person would make ns an advance, however small, on either. How many builders of the now Jerusalem we can remember, yet we still live in Dunedin, which, though a beautiful town, is not paradise, especially as regards its population. Yet a fresh crop of idealists always springs up to replace those fallen by the wayside or deserted to tho enemy. Socialism makes a strong appeal to many, but even Mr G. B. Shaw says that while economically it is simple, humanly it is very difficult. The first thing that a very voting child is aware of is his or her being. “ I am I,” says the youngster. “ and a very fine infant too. I should not be sprpfised if I made some stir in the world a little later on.” Next it becomes conscious of property. “ This is mine,” it squalls, “ and don’t you forget it.” It is a long time

before it is aware of tho fact that others have rights also, and reluctantly admits that “ this is ■yours.” In fact, a number of very successful people remain at tho “ this is mine ” stage all their lives,, and grab any loose property they may see lying about and give it a good home. In truth, wo have not much faith in “ Socialism in our time.” As matters stand, too mauv of the elect, the prophets, and loaders, seem to mysteriously acquire the “ soft jobs,”’ tho honour, the power, and the glory.

* * * * Of old, upon the other side, the heroes of tho JJoisbF.viks were Jacob Johnson and his crony Tommy Walsh. Their friendship was as intimate as any you could sen ’Twixt Pythias and Damon, Tweedledum and Twcediedeo; While Roseuerante and Guildc-nstorn were nothing to those two; They’ve stuck to one another, just like Eoccotiao or glue; ml -..avid with bis Jonathan, or Stifly with his Mo Were mere acquaintances compared with Johnson Walsh, and Co. They worked a strike together, which like other strikes wont “phut’’; But still they loved each other, with a love like Jeff and Mutt; And, when‘they were arrested, they expressed the pious hope That they might suffer in one cell, or, maybe, on (-no rope. They’faced the Beak together, and tho hot Australian air Was full of threats of civil war if aught befell the pair, For only two could claim the rank their party put these men in— I'ho late evicted Trotsky, and the late lamented Lenin. Their friendship seemed as lasting as the amity between Loquacious Mr Gallagher and chatty Mr Sheen; But even closest friendships have an aggravating way Of fading unaccountably—for all that poets say. And, though Sir Walter wrote tain, cov, and hard to please,” These epithets are hardly the monopoly of “ she’s.” In short, the little symptoms came to light, which constitute What Tennyson so aptly calls ‘ the nit within tlie lute.” I don’t know how the rift began or how the quarrel started _ Whereby these Great Twin Brethren were irrevocably parted. . Perhaps bad Tommy whispered m a sly and furtive way to Tho party that triend Jacob wasn t quite the clean potato, Or Jacob gently hinted that his erstwhile bosom cobber Required tho watchful eye, because he might turn out a robber. Perchance Tom joined the Mustard Club, and Jacob ouite refused to. At any rate relations weren’t so warm as they’d been used to.

When Labour bosses quarrel they adopt this mode of action: Each forms tho head and centre of a sympathetic faction. So Tommy’s pals get busy, and immediately make observations on the noisomeness or those who follow Jacob; _ While Jacob’s _ sympathisers, holding sulphurous opinions About tho Undesirables (their name for Tommy’s minions), Refer to them as vermin whom one ought to bo as hard on As borer in the boarding or as greon fly in the garden.

Some say that wars are over and the dawn of peace is breaking. Rut—fiuvks! these prophets little know tho error they are making. So long as Labour’s organised there must bo Labour leaders. And thev (1 may inform you) are the top-hole trouble breeders. They squabble for a theory that isn’t worth a penny, And rais« as much commotion as the pussies of Kilkenny. They say they’re fighting Capital, but Capital won’t bother While all the silly blighters keep on fighting ono another.

So Tommy fights with Jacob, like the unicorn and lion; So clearly there is only one result you can rely on, When tinnot quarrels start among tho leaders they have trusted The strike tho sailors organised will certainly he busted, They talk of solidarity, and yet they stick together No better than a butter pat in hot December weather. Now, if they ruled New Zealand would their first act he to raise a Three-cornered scrap of Holland versus Semple versus Eraser'?