WITHOUT DEFEAT

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XXV, Issue 186, 25 July 1935, Page 15

WITHOUT DEFEAT

A story with a call to a nation

By

OLIVER BLACK.

NOTE. Although lhe names of actual ' places iu New Zeulaud have beeu used, this tale is a work of pure fictiou. All the incidents and characters in the story are entirely imaginary and no reference is made or intended to any living person. 1 am, however, satisfied that the sentiments which 1 have put into the mouths-of my imaginary characters may in fact be heard up and down New Zealand to-day. OLIVER BLACK. Wellington, June, 1935. CHAPTER 3 (Continued.) A DOLE FUR FARMERS? “That’s right,’’ answered the son, “Otten as not we don’t know where our next meal is coming irorn. Work ing day and night lor nothing, we are. The only thing that can save us is for the Government to guarantee us a fair price.’* “What, about 2/-?” asked Oliver. “That’s right.” “And where is the money to come from?” “Oh,” replied the lad confidently, “that’s their job. They can find it some way. I’ll tell you what they should do. They ought to pay a national dividend to every man, woman and child on the land of a pound a week each. Let the new bank print special money for it.’’ “A national dole for farmers, eh?” asked Oliver. “And why not?” replied the woman. “The financiers are trafficking in the bodies and souls of people like us. Let them pay us for it.” Oliver decided that it would be waste of time to argue with people like this. He decided on one final thrust: “I see you didn’t starve last year.” “We’re likely to starve any time,” said the son. “I should be very interested to have a look at your farm accounts for last year, if you would allow me,” said Oliver. “Accounts 1” replied the son contemptuously. “If we kept accounts for last year they’d only show losses.” “Ah, I rather thought so. Well, I won’t keep you from your work any longer. Thank you so much for showing me round.” He paid for his milk and left them. "Those people come into my Levin friend’s 20 per cent, of hopelessly involved and inefficient farmers,” said Oliver to himself. “Yes, I think that the sooner people like that are off the land the better for all concerned. I don’t supnose they would do anv good in anything; but away from the land they would probably do less harm.” IRELAND FOR EVER. It was past six and getting darkOliver was tired and giving up all idea of reaching Wanganui that night, decided to stop at the first place he came to where he could find food and a bed. He topped a rise and saw before him a group of twinkling lights. As he drew near he found that it was a tiny village—not more than a group of cottages and a couple of shops. On the right-hand side of the road stood a weather-beaten hotel bearing over the door the name “Finnigan’s.” Oliver pulled in and got out of the car. In the dilapidated hall a dim light was burning but no-one was about. He rang a bell let into the wall beside the holo that did duty for an office; there was no result. He coughed and stamped noisily but no-one appeared. He looked into two sitting-rooms but the whole place was deserted. He was about to make his way into the kitchen in search of somebody if it was only the cook, when his ear caught the low murmur of voices behind a door in the smoking-room. Oliver tried the door but found that it was locked. In desperation he knocked loudly. The voices ceased at once. The door opened and a man’s head, covered with a mop of unruly black nair appeared round it. “Ehl Oh! Come in,” said the head, and the door was pushed °P el > a f‘‘ w feet.' Oliver squeezed through. He found himself in a long bar. Some dozen or more men were leaning against it, their hats pulled over their eyes. The only illumination was provided by a candle stuck into the neck of a bottle on the counter. Oliver wondered whether he had struck a secret meeting of smugglers,, or what it was. A moment’s reflection, however, convinced him that he was wrong and that the assembly was only the normal ritual indulged in after six o’clock by the thirsty. He asked if he could have a room for the night. “Number six,” said the shockheaded gentleman whom Oliver took to be Mr Finnigan himself. "Tea’s on now.” He turned to serve ope of the smugglers. That seemed to be that; so Oliver backed out into the smokingroom, fetched his bags and went upstairs in search of number six. The lauding was in complete darkness and he had to strike matches to see the numbers of the door. He found his number six and opened the door. . . . A parson in a long black coat and knee breeches was washing his hands in the basin. Oliver retreated hastily and returned to the smugglers’ den to report progress. “Try number eight,” suggested Mr Finnigan. “Likely there’s no-one in there.” Oliver sat on the smokingroom table and laughed till he cried. He might have been back in Ireland again. He pulled himself together, went upstairs once more and found number eight not only unoccupied but clearly expecting no occupant. There was no wash-basin, no towels and the bed was unmade. He looked in vain for a bell. Taking his courage in both hande he shouted; a tousled chambermaid appeared and Oliver explained what he wanted. “Oh!” said the maid, “we wash in the bathroom.” She departed indicating the passage to the left. Oliver found the bathroom, washed and descended to the dining-room. VIT. THE SCIENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. As Oliver finished his soap the parson came and took his seat at. the table. Oliver apologised for his intrusion into number six and explained how it had happened. “Finnigan’s a great character,” said rtc parson. “As Irish ns they make

them, and he 's been out here for mguy years now and never lost it!” Oliver asked about the sphere of his companion’s work and learned that It lay in a poor district near Wanganui. “It makes one’s heart bleed,” said the parson, “to see sueh poverty and distress around here. And in a country sueh us this, where food should be plentiful; there must be something wrong when there is distress and hunger in New Zealand.” “You would like some kind of Christian Communism, perhaps!” “Perhaps; at all events I think that the rich are too rich and the poor are too poor. There ought to be some kind of levelling up.” “I thought the churches were opposed to Communism on principle!” asked Oliver. “Oh, I don’t suggest ahy form of Russian Communism. Though it seems to me that most people are no better off here than in Russia. The masses uro oppressed and controlled, the majority are dependent upon others for their daily bread, we have over 50,000 men for whom no work or wages is allowed —they Live on charity; 1 doubt if we compare too favourably with Russia.” Oliver looked at him speculatively and ate some bread. “If I may say so,” said he, “I have rarely heard such remarkable sentiments. By whom are the masses oppressed!” “I would say by big business.” “That’s a good phrase, but I don’t think it means much. I don’t suppose there’s a single country in the world where what you call ‘the musses’ (which I suppose means the ordinary man in the street) are less oppressed than in this country. I would love to see you go out into the road and ask anyone if he thinks he’s oppressed!” The parson laughed. “I dare say you’re right. Perhaps 1 spoke thoughtlessly. ’ ’ “It’s rather dangerous for people in your position to speak without thinking, isn't it? And you say we are ‘controlled’ here. But that is necessary in any circumstances. Personally. I think a little more control, a little more discipline in every walk of life would do us all a lot of good.” “Again I must agree. It certainly would in Church.” “And in the State. Are you interested in politics at all!” “I try to keep out of them. But I hear a good deal of murmuring against the Government by men who are out of employment through no fault of their own and for whom the Government has not found jobs.” “But,” said Oliver, “the Government cannot find jobs by passing Acts of Parliament. It can create work, no doubt, by borrowing and condemning the country to pile up debts on the shoulders of your children. Unless you want the Government to shuffle the solution of the unemployment question on to your children—as they’re doing in Australia—it can only indirectly stimulate employment, while providing the best relief the country can afford for those who are out of work. And that this Government has done—and employment had fallen by a sixth.” “Nevertheless, if you saw the distress that I sometimes see you would wonder whether one could not do more. ft Oliver pushed back his chair. “I’ll tell you what you can do,” he said. “You can preach against envy and covetousness. Also against uncharitableness. You can encourage people to be content with their lot, with the station to which it has pleased God to call them. And you can remind them that Christ turned to the poor, to the underdog—and that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter! into the Kingdom of Heaven. Goodnight to you, Sir.” (To be Continued).