SOCIAL TAXES.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 866, 5 October 1888, Page 4

SOCIAL TAXES.

(No. 2). The heading of my last article, as it was put in print, must have created some slight surprise to my kind readers, ‘ Local Taxes ’ scarcely being a favourite theme among women, who generally prefer to eschew politics in their table-talk. ‘ Social * taxes means something so entirely different—something that touches women so nearly that they cannot help beiDg interested in the subject. So I shall pursue it farther and mention other taxes beside that I touched npon the other day. What is more delightful to a child than a birthday ? Is it not thought of with blissful anticipation for weeks beforehand ? 'Oh ! if mother will only let me have a party, ’ says the little one, and mother very often doe 3 ; for is it not a pleasure to her to make her child happy ? So, heedless of fatigue, she prepares the feast that is to celebrate the birthday, not too simple a one, for children nowadays are extremely critical as to the quantity and quality of things set before them. Not uufrequently when asked, 1 How did you like the party ?' will come the answer, * Oh, it was pretty good, but there was no jelly,’ or * the cake wasn’t nearly so big as Alice’s, and it wasn’t iced.’ Well, I suppose this is all natural ; children do not think that by expressing their opinions with extreme candour they " are unconsciously paving the way for a withdrawal of the festivities on future occasions; for should the adverse' remarks reach the ear of the giver of the feast, they would probably give offence. Mothers ought to check a child’s criticisms, and point out the ill-breeding of finding fault where nothing but pleasure has been intended.

But the tax that is felt in connection with birthdays is not that of .party-giving. It has become customary for the little guests to bring to the heroine of the day—for somehow ’fcis the girls who nearly always have the parties —a birthday offering; a very pretty and appropriate custom so long as it is confined to the home circle, which is certainly not the case now, for quite as a matter of course, with the reading of the invitation comes the query from the invitee, * What shall I take ? ’ and if by any chance no action is taken in the matter, it is probable your child will return home in a depressed Btate of mind, feeling quite humiliated at going unprovided with a present. Indeed, so strong has become the feeling that I have heard of children, after beiDg dressed for the festival, refuse with tears to proceed because they had nothing to give, * I don’t like going with nothing in nay hand, mother ; everybody will be giving.’ And so it often happens that the little one must either stay away, or mother must pay the entrance fee in some trifle more or less expensive, j This tax falls heavily on mothers of large, families, and many a complaint have I heard about it. ‘My children go to so many parties that 1 really lay out a tidy sum on birthday presents, for, of course, I don’t like them to appear shabby,, and then they got a lot of gifts last time which must be returned.’ And so the game of give-and-take goes on despite inward revolt and dissatisfaction. Now, I should like that inward revolt to find general outward expression, as it can so easily do. in the easiest way possible, just by doing as a sensible friend of mine did. Upon tho invitations to her little daughter’s birthday gathering were the significant words, * No presents.’ Can you not imagine how gratefully those words were read by some mothers who were thereby relieved from tho task of choosing and buying; a gift which w&b felt to be an unnecessary social tax.

' Thou comes the increasing custom of funeral wreaths, which is really too often a mockery of the dead. When a beloved lelativo dies, it iB soothing and comforting to the bereaved to surround the mortal remains with the beautiful emblems of immortality. Even as the flower fades, dies, aud spr'ngs up again, so will the lifeless form half hidden beneath thorn spring up again to renewed life in another sphere. By all ra9aus strew flowers around the dead, but let oulp those who love and revere the lost one have that privilege. Who values wreaths and crosses sent by strangers ? Only those who care for outward show, * Complimentary flowers 1 ’ What a mockery 1 Yet florists will tell you that on the death of any well-known indivi. dual the demand is greater than the supply. ‘ I see So and-So is dead ; I suppose I must send them some flowers.’ How harrowing would it not be to the bereaved if they heard such a remark. Yet it is one that is actually made without any apparent consciousness of the meaning underlying the words. But are they not a protest against a social tax ? Memorial wreaths should be spontaneous offerings, not compulsory tribute. In the old countries the usage has assumed suoh extravagant proportions that it has been denounced from the pulpit. A bishop, more than usually alive to merely mundane matters, strongly urged its discontinuance, on the Boore of meaningless and unnecessary show, a mere fashionable folly in too many instances.

Such of ns ashavegardens are pretty heavily taxed in the way of floral contributions. Hardly a week, passes without some petition for ‘ a few flowers for a baby’s coffin ;’ an appeal which few women, or, for the matter of that, men, could refuse. Yet, how often is the appeal a genuine one ? I believe that in half the oases it is merely an excuse for robbing you. One day I watched two girls going from house to house along the Terrace begging flowers for the usual dead infant. A large harvest did they gather, and then up a hye-Btreet did those little wretches go, sit down on the kerb, and deliberately pick the lovely blossoms to pieces, laughing the while at the gullibility of the donors.. Since then, 1 look with suspicion oh flower beggars, and withhold my hand unless sure of the destination of my flowers. There are numerous other social taxes of minor . importance, with which I need not meddle. My sole inducement to touch upon those mentioned is a true desire to lighten, if possible, the burdens imposed on many of us by the observanso of fashionable customs irrespective of real sentiment and affection. Elise.