LONDON CHAT.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXVI, Issue 11200, 21 October 1899, Page 5 (Supplement)

LONDON CHAT.

[FROM OUIi OWN CORRESPONDENT.] London, September 8. It was not until Wednesday in this week that the remarkable spell of drought and heat which has characterised this summer, and which is said to have had no precedent in London history, came to an end, for the time at any rate.

| I have dealt with the extraordinary temI pest which proved the finishing stroke to j the great drought. But of the drought itself II may say that, while it has unquestionably I been severe and protracted, I have not seen anything like such manifest tokens of its severity and duration as I did in 1893 and 1898. That is to say, vegetation did not look dried and burnt-up to nearly the same , extent as in those years. But I believe I many of the springs and rivers have been ■ lower than on any previous occasion, and ! certainly the rainfall for July-August has been by far the smallest ever recorded for those two months in this country. Happily the harvest was safely housed before tne weather broke, and it looked to be a very fine one. Some bucolical experts tell me it is not so good as it looked, owing to the grain being shrivelled through lack of moisture and never "filling out" pro- ' perly. But I understand that the quality jis generally most excellent better than j that of the market values, which are lamentably poor.

The Queen, I need hardly mention, is in the Scottish Highlands, at her beloved Balmoral home. A good deal of fuss was made because the automatic continuous brake stuck twice after the Royal train got on to the Deeside brancii, and could not be released to let the train proceed until some little delay had occurred. It was unfortunate, no —especially for the unlucky officer whose oversight may be accountable —but in no respect dangerous. Far sadder was that experience of two years ago when one of the Royal engine-drivers—poor David Fenwick, a most worthy fellow, and one of the smartest drivers on the —mounted his tender to see about the communicationcord, and was instantly decapitated by a bridge under which the train passe'd at the moment. That was indeed a shocking catastrophe, and greatly affected the Queen when she came to hear of it, after it had been kept from her as long as possible. "Society" London is still away shooting, fishing, golfing—especially golfing. Almost every other person you meet at a London terminus carries a bunch of golf clubs, and the passion for that game seems becoming a perfect craze with both sexes. London and its "lions" are still given over unto the " country cousins" and the American tourists, to say nothing of a liberal sprinkling of tho French and German travelling element.

One day this week I went to the Zoo to inspect two splendid silver zebras recently presented to the Queen by the Emperor of Abyssinia. They are certainly superb, alike in form and in marking, Nothing more perfect in its way could be imagined than either of these striped beautics. But I confess I was even more charmed with a baby zebra, barely a fortnight o'd. which had been born in the Zoo. This zebra " pup"or whatever may be the correct name for a juvenile zebra — wuat ladies call a " perfect little pet," most exquisitely marked, and quite the picture of an ideal racehorse except in respect of size or rather, smallness—and colour. He comported himself with an air of quiet dignity that was truly impressive and delightful It is rumoured that next year's decennial presentation of the famous "Passion Play" at Obereammergau may perhaps be the last. There has been a marked waning of enthusiasm during the past two decades; and now that the peasant, who so long has represented the Incarnate Christ with such singular dignity and impressiveness, has become too old to "look the part," even with all the aid of histrionic make-up, it is doubtful whether any successor will succeed in inspiring the same interest. Moreover, visitors are growing particular. Nearly every past representation has taken place under a shower-bath of heavv rain. Umbrellas arc not permitted— no more frightful anachronism or incongruity could be perpetrated than the unfurling of umbrellas during the scene of the Crucifixion! But tourists don't enjoy a soaking, and so the scene is to be roofed-in next year. This will keep the spectators dry, but will grievously mar the spectacular effect, which has always been immensely enhanced by the superb mountain scenery which surrounds Obergammergau. Beside, the whole idea and spirit of the representation will be lost if the latter do not take place in the open air. Should the performance of A.D. 1900 prove to be the final one, many people, 110 doubt, will regret the disappearance of so interesting a legacy of the Middle Ages. Others, however, will not bo sorry that an occasion which involved grave risks of irreverence as the spectators became more numerous and miscellaneous, should no longer exist. However tho "Passion Play" may " take out a new lease of life" yet. We shall see. Another, and very different, foreign spectacle has brought into unpleasant prominence a national weakness on our part which rude outsiders express as "cant." The humane "sport" of so-called " bull-fighting" has suddenly mado its appearance at Boulogne, which, in a large degree, lives on its English residents and visitors. These worthy souls did not, it is true, indulge personally in the shrieks of horror against the cruelty of bull-fights which the average Briton is in the habit of telling off so freely and pliarasaically. But they did go to the other extreme. They manifested their national detestation of the brutal spectacle by attending in crowds and by enthusiastically applauding any particularly inhuman display, Is it surprising that foreign critics should have seized on this illustration of British Pecksniflianism and should have held us up to ridicule as a race of humbugs? What makes the case even worse against us is that actually special excursion trips liavo been laid on from Folkestone to enable English people to witness the foul spectacle. And crowds go. Also they grumble loudly if there should be any lack of what they deem adequate " bulgginess." And, moreover, the Boulogne bull-fights are held on Sundays. So, altogether, the business does not reflect credit upon our race in any way. It is a pity that the national character should be thus dragged through the mud, just now of all times,