Round the Corners.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 423, 20 March 1880, Page 15

Round the Corners.

ROUND THE CORNERS.

Royal Commissions ! The phrase sounds well, but yet it is a misnomer, in my opinion, and instead, the term "Political Buffers" should be used. Now, I don't mean to infer that either of the highly honorable and gracefully distinguished individuals who have condescended to serve their country in the capacity of investigating umpires, are either young or old buffers, but that taken collectively in each .Commission, they constitute so many sets o 1 highly-improved and patented-spring buffers to ease the shock of contact between sensitive Ministerial and highly-refined representative opinion. " You are too pressing, gentlemen," say Ministers, "we really cannot undertake to execute all your little jobs." Hear what the Commission appointed to investigate the feasibility of connecting Stewart's Island with the main land by tunnel has to say, or the Commission appointed to pronounce on the advisability of bestowingupon every householder the inestimable privilege of a broad guage railway to his front door, and especially that Commission which is looking into the ins and outs of the scheme whereby every one is to be made rich and comfortable at the expense of his neighbor. We have been so sorely pressed on these points, that legislation has become all but impracticable, and so dreading your wrath at our inability to perform impossibilities we have, at your own request mind, provided these go-between Commissions. Let them sustain the shock of your displeasure, at the failure of your disinterested little schemes. 1 ' Now if these Commissions are not "buffers," what • are they ? I feel rather curious as to the effect of their interposition, when the opposing forces meet. They may be no better than so many air cushions. In that case, what an explosion— for burst they must inevitably. Who has not at some period of his life had an opportunity to observe the keen sense of humor possessed by the sailor ? The constant inhalation of ozone seems propitious to the genius of risibility. It is true the tar's humor generally developes itself in the direction of practical jokes, but if not redolent of the refined Attic salt, it bears traces of the more ordinary mineral peculiar to his element. Walking on the wharf a day or two ago I saw an honest mariner drop his hat while looking over the bulwark. He instantly seized a coil of rope, made a loop in the end, sat himself therein, and asked a mate to lower him to the water's edge. His friend complied with alacrity—a close observer might have thought with too much alacrity. The lowering process began, the owner of the hat presently grasped his property, and shouted to the other to " Belay." But the man on deck heeded not the cry from the vasty deep. He continued to lower, and the individual in the loop was of course immersed. The latter then, realising the situation, began to climb up ; but at the precise rate he raised himself the other paid out the rope, so the climber maintained a stationary position. This might have lasted indefinitely, but all things have an end—even the longest rope, and the terminus of that supporting the now blaspheming tar was eventually reached and made fast to the rail. The drenched sailor then climbed up, and on reaching the deck found his friend had adjourned to a lofty part of the rigging, and was attentively regarding the horizon. What ensued when the one man had changed his clothes and the other his venue I did not stay to observe.

Yet another instance of servant-gal-ism. My horsey chum would say she was "an upstanding filly " of rakish appearance, and as her mistress—or, I beg her pardon, as the person whom she condescended to help, —said, she swept through the house as if it belonged to her. She was, in fact, overpowering in more senses than one, and her presence filled that domicile. Now, I am a proper Bohemian, and whilst I confess to the tastes peculiar to that much vilified class, amongst other weaknesses a partiality for skilfully-prepared " blends," my occupation occasionally wafts me to five o'clock drums. It was at one of these that my hostess, a lady rather small for her age, thus poured her

troubles, relative to her irrepressible help, into my sympathetic ear : " Dear Mr. Asmodeus, you know everything, and yet I don't think you quite understand what I have suffered from that woman. In vain I tried to establish authority over her. You should have seen her look of dignified astonishment when I ventured to complain of dirty plates and half-cleaned knives ; and I am free to confess that at last I really stood in awe of her. My poor Tom, who, you know, is a nervous creature, was even worse than myself, and one day so far forgot himself as to address her as ' iSlaam.' I wanted to give her warning, but was really afraid to, and goodness knows what might have happened, for I began to think that my place was the kitchen, her's the parlor, when luckily the last straw was put on and we gave way. One morning she got up and, having lit the kitchen fire, sent up her compliments by my little Maud, who will not stay in bed after daylight-, and that she was much indisposed, and must go to bed again. Fancy ! What a state we were in. I rushed down to get breakfast, found all last night's tea thing 3 dirty, and the kettle empty, on the fire. Dear Tom, as usual, made himself useful—we enquired after her health. Would she have some medicine ? Not she. And so we got our breakfast. I cleared away and washed up, and was on the point of sending Tom for the doctor, when her ladyship appeared, declared she was much better, and that she would take a little breakfast if I'd make her a cup of tea. This, Mr. Asmodeus, was more than we could bear, and at our united and earnest request—you know, my Tom, he would not hurt a fly—she consented to accept 'a week in advance,' and leave the house, but not without a reference. We dared not refuse her that."

If there is a trait more prominent than another in colonial youth, it is lack of veneration. Even a comet fails to impress them. Said one youngster to another during the recent cometical visitation, —" i say, Dick, did you see the comet ?" " Yes, I did ; my eye, what a tail ! Just do for my kite !" " H.M.S. Pinafore", and the "Sorcerer" have been eclipsed by Messrs. Sullivan anl Gilbert's new comic opera, " The Pirates of Penzance," in which, among other funny bits, some policemen vocalise, the sergeant leading, and the members of the force, as chorus, echoing the last syllables of each line, as thus : When the enterprising burglar isn't burgling, Chorus : Isn't burgling, When the cut-throat isn't occupied with crimes, Chords : 'Pied with crimes, He loves to hear the little brooks a-gurgling, Chorus : Brooks a-gurgling, And listen to the merry village chimes, Chorus : Village chimes. When the coster's finished jumping on his mother, Chorus : On his mother, He loves to lie a-basking in the sun, Chorus : In the sun ;

O, take one consideration with another,

Chorus : With another, The policeman's lot is not a happy one, Chorus : Happy one.

In the fulness of time and things dramatic, the Pirates of Penzance will invade Wellington boards, with a localised version of course, for managers in their wisdom cannot refrain from attempting to paint the lily and adorn the rose ; and they'll do it something after this fashion :

When the little stars are twinkle, winkling, Chorus : Inkle, winkling, And the martial peeler's on his beat,

Chorus : On his beat,

If he spieß a cove what's been a-drinking, Chorus : Been a-drinking, In a trice he runs him olf the street, Chorus : Off the street, For the chances of conspicuous duty, Chorus : 'Spicuous duty, Are so very few and far between,

Chorus : Far between,

That a drunk is a " thing of beauty,"

Chorus : Of beauty, And makes a peeler's life all serene,

Chorus : All serene,

A practice " better honored in the breach than the observance" is a characteristic of certain Wellington newspaper scribes. They profess a knowledge which they do not and cannot possibly possess of the inspiration of any and every article attracting passing attention, ? and their assumption and presumption is simply ludicrous. Like the Jenkinses of the Home Society journals, who profess to be authorities in fashionable gossip, they betray the barrenness of their resources, and their utter ignorance or disregard of journalistic etiquette. I rather incline to the belief that not a few colonials would be willing to supplement their recent donations to the Irish Relief Fund—given, because it is the correct thing to do, you know—by subscribing a testimonial to the genius who, as thus described, has hit upon a new plan of solving the Irish difficulty. " They tell a good story of W , a Cork landlord. He recently met his tenantry at Coachford, a lonely hamlet far from civilisation. They told him they were unable to pay the rent ; they wanted abatement and time. * Divel an abatement!' he cried ; • but I tell you what— I'll allow you a month's delay, and any mother's son amongst you that doesn't square up -then will get a bullet through his head. Ye've been shooting the landlords long enough ; it's their turn now." Have we not heard aforetime a somewhat similar proposal for the social improvement of the Maori ? I once read a good story of a young curate who had been playing cricket on Saturday, and who, upon conducting the next day's service, was so engrossed with the exercises of the previous day that when he finished reading the first lesson he said, to the consternation of the more sedate of his congregation, " Here endeth our first innings." This is almost as good a tale as that of a clergyman in a neighboring colony some time ago reading, "Blessed are the nick and seedy," &c. A

similar lapsus linguae was recently perpetrated in a church not 100 miles from the Te Aro pound. The preacher was dilating upon the wonders of nature, and, while describing a storm scene, appeared to get into a fo/, or, at any rate, to bee me exceedingly.cloudy, for he began to talk about the " vivid lisrhtniog and the forked thunder." Be, however, noticed his blunder almost immediately, «.nd he repeated the sentence, correcting him-<el c without the slip being observed by the mnj >rity of his heaiers.

Carriage exercise in a threepenny cab is the' luxury of ihe hour, and our city matrons and maidens luxuriate. But ' why, oh, why,' they plaintively plead, 'do not the City Fathers comp .1 the cabmen to wear their horrible threepenny tickets on the hearts of their waistcoats, and to button up their coats the moment a lady is seated? It is quite too awful, you know, to pass one's friends with that dreadful threepence on one's carriage It is :is bid a* wearing a shop ticket—this style 7s fi£d. — >u one's bonnet. Aud why can't we have a cab, ahem, a carriage, all to ourselves, without t e coachman stopping to pick up more fares? Fancy one's laundress stopping our carriage, and riding along Lambton-quay at 4 p.m., and the creature with her quarter\s washing bill most likely in her pocket, compelling one to be civil ? Itis really dreadful.' And so the darings, in their iunbeeucy and unselfishness, prattle, and, as they say, his Worship the Mayor, good complaisant soul, is to be memorialised on pink -md perfumed paper. Relative to the hardness of the times, I might mention a little incident that came under my notice at a certain barber's shop. The tax collector called, and poor Strap was in a terrible state, being exictly eighteenpence short. The collector had called so often that he felt a hamed to put him off again. . t that moment a couple of customer-? entered, and Strap "sked the collector if he would kindly be seated, aud cast his eye over an. exciting leader in the Times, while he "(Strap) sent his boy .to the bank "to cash a cheque." And he winked ■at _ the boy, who left the shop. And during the next ten minutes Strap worked as he had never worked before ; went through both his customers' heads, and turned them out in first-class style, receiving two shillings for his trouble. The collector was getting impatient, but Strap was jubilant ; and, loudly anathematizing the boy for being gone so long, said, '• perhaps he could make up the money in the house," which he accordingly did, and so paid out his unwelcome visitor, leaving himself with a balance of sixpence. Strap ought to get on in the world.

A SMODEUS