ECHOES OF THE WEEK.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1249, 6 February 1896, Page 23

ECHOES OF THE WEEK.

Satlre'B my weapon, but I'm too discreet To ran amuck knd tilt at all I meet. PofK. ~ BY S(^UTATOR Mr Justin McCarthy's resignation of the leadership of the Parliamentary Party had been long predicted as inevitable. By personal inclination, a student, a literateur, and one averse? to the storm and ?tres3 of public life, Mr McCarthy was chosen as a "safe" man, for whom not only the Irish Party but the English Liberals had a very great and well deserved respect, but it has been palpable to the most perfunctory observer of the Home Rule party and its methods that he has been a great failure as a leader. He has not the imperious will of a Paruell, his speeches lack thatringof fervent patriotism which characterise every line of those of Mr Dillon, he lacks the dash and audacity of Tim Healy, who, with all his faults, has been a tower of strength in debate, and, above all, he is too mueh of a "study politician," and not enough of a leader, controller, and inspirer of men. It will be interesting to see who will be chosen as his successor, and colonial sympathisers with a just and honest cause, which, for reasons too many and various to be debated here, is at present in low water, will trust that the dissensions already existing in the ranks of the Irish Parliamentary Patty may not be aggravated into open and more mischievous discord by the retirement of one who, whatever his failures—failures mainly due to personal weakness of not unamiable character —lias at least managed to keep his party fairly together and to win the respect and esteem of many who are bitterly opposed to its views and ambitions.

France, though naturally one of the richest countries in the world, is at hibt beginning to find out that even upon her the maintenance of a huge standing army, and the indulgence in an "advanced colonial policy," are apt to be productive of serious financial burdens. Money must bo found, and so the Premier —I am not quite suro as to his name, for the French seem to have a change cf Chief Boss about every three months, but I think it is a Monsieur Bourgeois —lias announced the introduction of a Graduated Income Tax Bill. The economical, not to say miserly, small rentier may not feel it much, but on the wealthy, ces sacres richards, as the extreme Radicals say (" blanky Fat Man " would be an Australian slang synonym), the Premier proposes to come down very smartly. Five per cent, on all incomes over c£2ooo ! Pretty stiff, but the money is wanted. It only remains to be seen how the wealthy classes will take it. They are well represented in both chambers, and I shall not be surprised if Premier Bourgeois soon follows his numerous predecessors, and the proposed tax comes to nought. Fat Man can work the oracle in France just as he can in these colonies.

Boer spells boor and brute. This is the conviction arrived at by any one who has read much about South Africa and the South Africans, and it can be strengthened just now by those who have the opportunity of reading recent files of Capetown and Johannesburg papers. The Boer cordially detests the Englishman, and will go out of his way to grossly insult men of English birth whenever ho meets them. As typical of the sort of behaviour which drives the South African Britisher to detest the very name of a Boer, let me condense a few facts collected and printed by my South African journalistic confrere and namesake, " Scrutator," of the Johannesbui-g Critic. The Johannesburg " Scrutator " tells how an Englishman, a prisoner in the Pietersburg (Transvaal) gaol, escaped therefrom, and being recaptured was " publicly flogged in the streets of that town in the presence of the greater portion of the population, specially summoned by the Boer Landrost, or magistrate, to witness the disgusting scene." My Johannesburg namesake reprints in full a statement made under oath by a Dutchman, G illihan Van Niekerk, a resident of Petersburg. The statement in question I reproduce verbatim : I reside at Pietersburg with my family. A day or two after the convicts had escaped from prison in or about the month of October last, I saw the Landdrost Munnik between the prison and the office at Pietersburg. He was on horseback, with a crowd of people about him and in the vicinity. I heard him say, "I call the public of Pietersburg together to witness how the two white men will be flogged." He asked me personally whether T had received the notification which he had sent round. I went to iee, and saw one of the prisoners aforementioned. The constables were busy making him fast with reirns and ropes to two poles that were placed in the street. I said to Munnik that I was 62 years of age and had never seen such a thing before, and that it was an awful sight to see, and that God preserve one from that. Munnik then said, " If they escape from prison I will tame them with the cat, and if the 25 lashes are not enough I will give him 25

more/' The second convict was also brought there on Munnik's orders, but he was too ill to undergo his punishment, and was kept there to see how the other convict would be lashed T Then in the public street, and in the presence of Europeans and Kaffirs, the white man (an Englishman) was flogged with the cat. I was present, and saw the blood flowing from him and heard his groans ; "it was awful to see." Munnik seemed highly pleased thereat. I said, "Mr Munnik, this is awful; God preserve me from this." He answered, "111 tame them with the cat."

G. V. NIEKERK. Sworn before me at Pietersburg on the 6th December, 1895. L. G. F. Biccard, J.P. for the Z A.R.

The Transvaal, my readers will remember, is still nominally under the suzerainty of Great Britain, and it seems almost incredible that the Boers should be allowed to commit such a horrible outrage on public decency as this cruelly public flogging without being brought to task therefor by the British Colonial Office. According to my namesake of the Critic, several similar outrages have been committed, but " the President (Kruger) and the Executive have shown amply that they simply do not intend to notice or properly investigate any accusations of this nature against their officials." It is high time that Mr Chamberlain made them adopt a different course of procedure.

The Boer is nominally a most pious creature. He hugs the Old Testament to his heart, and loves to make public manifestation of his piety. " Oom Paul " is greatly given to the occupation of pulpits and to posing as a species of local preacher; but nevertheless, his piety notwithstanding, the Boer behaves with the greatest possible brutality to the natives, not only the men but the women who work for him being flogged on the slightest pretext. The Johannesburg Critic, from which I have quoted the disgraceful Pietersburg case, also tells of a Boer farmer named J. A. van Rooyen, who had working in his farm a native woman. Says the Critic :

Mr van Rooyen has residing on his farm a native woman who washes the clothes of the Van Rooyen household. About a month ago she was confined, and six days after the birth of the child Van Rooyen met her whilst she was drawing water for the use of herself and family and asked her why sho had not been to his place as usual to wash the clothes. The woman explained that she was still too weak to undertake work of that description. The farmer ordered her to go to his house next day and do the washing. On the day following the woman did not leave home, so the farmer went to her hut and demanded her reason for not doing as she was told. Her reply was as before, she was too weak to do the work; whereupon he struck her repeatedly with the lash and stock of his riding-whip, severely cutting and lacerating her about the breast, head and body. According to the police sergeant, to whom the woman complained, there were marks across her breast where the JlcsJi had been cut open, and her lips were swollen. The farmer's defence was that he believed the child to be a week old, and that being so, ho felt that the mother was quite able to do the washing if she only liked to do it. Ho would not have struck her had she not frightened his horse by throwing her watering-pot at it. (It seems that Van Rooyen struck at the woman and that she, in her alarm, let fall the watering-pot she was carrying, thus frightening the horse.) Van Rooyen, His Worship considered, deserved exemplary punishment which "exemplary punishment" proved to be a fine of £5 !

This particular case occurred, if you please, in the British colony of Natal, and not in the Transvaal. The sentence proves that the English Magistrate, one S. W. Kowse, is completely unfit for his position, or, and I am afraid this is nearer the truth, the power and influence of the Dutchman in South Africa, even in a British colony, are so great that he can laugh at justice. Mr Chamberlain has his work cut out in South Africa if he really wishes to see the principles of humanity and justice respected by those who live, either nominally or actually, under the British flag.

Hearty congratulations to Mr Firth and the Wellington College staff. Mr Firth has restored order out of chaos, and has brought a school which had fallen, apparently irretrievably, to the rear, back into line with the other big secondary schools of the Colony. He has created an esprit de corps, a pride in their school, amongst the boys; he has regained for the institution the lost confidence of the parents ; he has, by sheer force of personal effort, got for the college one of the best arranged and equipped recreation grounds in the Colony, and now he and his staff have capped all their previous efforts, and established what I believe is a distinct record in the history of our secondary schools with regard to the University examinations. Twenty-three candidates presented, twenty-two passed ; 'tis a splendid result, a result of good, honest, able work; a result upon which the school, the masters, the governors and

the scholars are alike to be warmly congratulated. Let it be remembered that the one great test of the efficiency- of a secondary school in this Colony is the measure of sviccess attained at the University examinations. After all, what a boy goes to school for is to be educated, and some outside, thoroughly unprejudiced test is required to show the quality of the work done. The tone of a school, its facilities for athletic sports, its debating and other societies, are all very well in their way, but their importance must not be allowed to overshadow the one great primary consideration, a test as to the value of the teaching. The Wellington College, gauged by this test, can now challenge comparison with any other school in the Colony, and there is now no longer any necessity for Wellington parents to send their lads away to outside schools. I hope they will duly remember the fact and loyally support a local institution, which, by the quality of its work, has proved itself so worthy of public confidence and esteem. Once again, congratulations to all concerned.

There is a project afloat to establish a second Boys' Institute in Wellington, and I have been asked to draw attention to the fact in this column. I do so with pleasure, for in my humble belief the existing Boys' Institute has done more actual good work for the youth of the city than any other organisation, religious or social, that the city has yet known. Any institution the objects of which are to get the boys off the streets at night, to save them from the perils which attach to that larrikinism which is so often the precursor of crime itself, deserves the warmest and most practical suppoit from the public. It may be imagined that there is no need for a second Boys' Institute, but, as is pointed out in a circular sent me by the promoters of Institute No. 2, the existing Institute, whose home is the brick building at the foot of Cuba street, has an active membership of 110, and already the operations of its committee are seriously cramped for want of room. The second Institute it is proposed to erect in the neighbourhood of Adelaide road. Here, as the circular points out, there is a large working population where hundreds of boys who are employed in the various establishments in the city have their homes, and the Institute would have ample scope for useful work. I need not go into details, but sufficient to say that no efforts are spared, not only to provide wholesome recreation, both physical and mental, for the lads, but that the educational and religious sides are not neglected. I understand that the amount which the committee estimate will be required for the purchase of a section of land and the erection of a building to contain sufficient accommodation, including main hall, class rooms, reading room, gymnasium, and carpenter's work shop, is about c£7oo. Surely there should bo no difficulty in a largo and wealthy community, such as ours, in raising the sum in question. Any subscriptions, however small, will be gratefully received by the lion, secretary, Mr S. G. Martin, National Mutual Life Association, Custom House Quay, and I trust it Avill not be long before the required amount may be forthcoming and the second Boys' Institute be in full working - .

We Wellingtonians are apt to " fancy " ourselves in our more truthful moments, on our " busters," for which we possess a reputation, or should I not say, notoriety, which is much more than local. But it appears that Coolgardio adds to its many attractions (?) a little thing of its own in the way of winds which is quite equal to the Wellington variety. This is a species of whirlwind called throughout Western Australia a " willy willy," the diminutive of which is a " cock-eyed bob." Western Australia, I may remark in parenthesis, is evidently going to enrich the world with some new varieties of slang, as well as with gold. But to get back to the " willy willy." A correspondent of the South Australian -Advertiser describes it as a "violent whirlwind that increases in volume as it goes, and at times assumes colossal proportions. These winds spring up at the most odd times, and you may sometimes find yourselves in the clutches of one without the slightest warning. I saw a newsboy the other day for the sake of amusement—though what amusement he could derive from such a proceeding is incomprehensible to me — run right into a 'cock-eyed bob/ It proved stronger than he had anticipated, and he found it removing his hat. In his endeavour to save his hat he raised his arm, and instantly his supply of papers wis soaring heavenwards." After this no Wellingtonian need fear being lonesome if ho goes to Coolgardio. A " cock-eyed bob " will make him quite at home at once-

Some few weeks ago the editor of the Farming Pages of the Mail received a letter in which the writer modestly asked for full information as to starting farming (on a capital of J£2oo), which was the best district to settle in, how was he to select

the best land, -was cattle or sheep farming more profitable, and other queries, ending with a perfect poser, in the shape of the following - : —" I also should like you to be kind enough to tell me, as fully as you can, how I can conduct (conduct is good) the farm so as to make an income of, say, .£3OO to .£SOO off it, after the first six months. The answer, which did not appear in the Mail, but which I was privileged to see, was mildly sarcastic, and I am afraid the correspondent was somewhat . disappointed therewith.

I am reminded of my confrere's experience by reading of a very curious and comical application made to the Victorian Department of Agriculture the other day. A letter arrived addressed " Agricultural Department," and containing a document which was remarkable alike for its own brevity and for the cheek of the [ writer. It ran as follows: —"Sir, I want an agricultural report on being in the farming business. I orler get it." The secretary of the department, who was no doubt much amused by what he not unnaturally assumed to be an example of bucolic simplicity, replied in his most courteous style, that the department would be most happy, etc., etc., to comply with its esteemed correspondent's request* but would he oblige by informing the department somewhat more specifically which of its numerous reports was actually needed. "Would Mr be kind enough to mention the date, or at least the subject of the report in question. The reply of the seeker after knowledge—and reports was prompt, and like its predecessor, was brevity itself: —"I don't care a rap what the book is about or when it >vas rote. I want it fur a scrap book." The purport of the departmental reply to this has not been made public.

The late Dr Selwyn, Bishop of Melanesia, has been the subject of many a good story, and it may be that the one I am about to tell, on the authority of the West SuffolkAdvertiser, for a cutting from I have to thank a correspondent "F.H.," is familiar to some of my readers. To myself, as to others maybe, it is new, and, anyw r ay, :'t is so distinctly humorous that it will bear retelling without further apology. Down in the Midlands, where the most pleasant recollections are cherished of the once famous Vicar of Tamworth, the colliers are fond of telling a tale of an encounter which some colliers once had with the Bishop on the outskirts of Tamworth. Walking along the road leading to Wiluecote —locally pronounced " Wincut " —the Bishop observed a group of collier 3 sitting by the roadside in a semi-circle with a brass kettle in front of them, and he had the curiosity to enquire what was going on. " Why, yer honour," replied a grave looking member of the group, " it's a sort of a wager. Yon kettle is a prize for the fellow that can tell the biggest lie, and I am the umpire." Amazed and shocked, the good Bishop said reprovingly, " Why, my friends, I have never told a lie that I know of since I was born." Then there was a dead silence, only broken by the voice of the umpire, who said in a deliberate tone, " Gio the Bishop tha kettle." The Bishop, adds the Advertiser, often told the story amongst his friends.

" Proputty, proputty, proputty," squeaked loud and long- when the ex-Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir William Vernon Harcourt, introduced his now famous death duties, of which, by the way, his Tory successors have not had the courage to propose the repeal, much, no doubt, to the dis Appointment of some of their more wealthy supporters. The duties in question aroused the wildest indignation of these latter, and many stories have already been told of the ingenious devices adopted with a view to "dodging the death duties." Of these the best that I have read is told by the Spectator, which in a recent issue recounts how a stout old squire in Sussex was furious at this attack on the immunity which the landowners had always enjoyed from such taxation and swore that the Chancellor of the Exchequer would gain nothing from his death. Accordingly he sold his estate to his son and heir for an annuity equal to the average annual income derived from it for a number of year 3 past, together with an irrevocable power of attorney giving him for his life all the powers and privileges of management. The scheme did his ingenuity great credit. lie still enjoyed the full revenue of the estate and all the rights of ownership, with the added satisfaction that as ho was not the legal owner the Treasury would not reap a farthing from it in the shape of death duties when he died. But, alas ! " the best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft agley." His son, the legal owner, died. Whereupon the Treasury intimated to him that as'the heir of his son, the late owner of the estate, it would be obliged to him if he would forward a cheque for .£38,000, being

the amount due as death duties according to Sir William Harcouvt's new scale.

The American papers supply most of the alleged " comics " of London with their funnyisms, and certainly •when one picks up a New York or Chicago daily, one stands aghast at tha industry and ingenuity which must be involved in the concoction of the various items which appear under such headings as " Smiles," " Laughter," etc Out of a long column in a Chicago paper I have found the following best worth quotation. Here is one, said to be French, but you needn't be alarmed, there is nothing tin duly Frenchy and frisky about it, although a very stout lady is the heroine of it. She is about to bathe. Questioning the bathing man—-when, by the way, shall we see bathing- machines and bathing men at Plimmerton ?—she says: " Will the tide rise again soon ?" " Certainly, Madame," is the reply, "It will rise as soon as you enter the water!" As of all cities in the States, New York is most held, even by Americans, to be devoutly prostrate at the fact of the Almighty Dollar, there is an expected, financial touch in an item which hails from that city. " Has there been any insanity in your family ?" asks the life insurance) examiner. " Well, I suppose there has," says Mrs Fifth Avenue, "my sister married a husband who hadn't a cent." The tendency of the American husband to be so wrapped up in politics and business that he neglects those little social attentions that wives justly like is neatly hit off in the story of the lady who asks her friend, Mrs Golightly, of Oakland, if she does not miss her husband much now that he has gone to Europe. " Oh, no," says the wife; " you see, he le£t me plenty of money, and at breakfast I just set a newspaper in front of his plate and half the time I forget ho isn't there." The American-Irishman looms up so big in politics in the States that the humour of the following is easily seen : —■ "Is it true that they have no rulers in Ireland ?" asks Mrs Cooke, who tries to take an interest in public affairs. " Quito true, my dear," Cooke replies ; " they appear to bo all over here."

Everyone knows the old story of the curious effect caused by the of two bills posted on a fence, "Try Quackman's Pills," and " Prepare to meet thy God." It crops up in my mind as I read of the joke played by some waggish individual in an English provincial city recently. Mr Sydney Grundy's latest comedy, "The New Woman," was being' played at the local theatre, and the title stared the citizens in the face on brilliant coloured posters on every dead wall and fence in the place. On one " stand," to use a bill-poster's technicality, there had been a big placard announcing the virtue of a well-known soap. The top part had blown off", and the bill-sticker, coming along with his bills and paste, guilelessly stuck up" The New Woman," in glaring letters, just above the surviving portion of the soap bill, which read as follows, " Won't Wash Clothes." One sometimes meets with. truth under curious circumstances.

A few weeks ago some curious specimens of what might be called tombstone humour, intentional and otherwise (principally otherwise) were given in the columns of the Mail. To these I may now add the following, which I clip from a copy of the New York Independent, a religious paper, by the way. The first is from a New England cemetery, and runs — The winter snow congealed his form But now we know our uncle's warm. The second is even more comical— ALPHA WHITE, Weight 3091b5. Open wide, ye golden gate 3. The cablegrams continue to give tha country journals a good deal of trouble, and examples of "muddlegrams" are by no means few and far between. One of the most comical of these has been perpetrated by the Wairarapa Daily Times, The pn railed column comes in handy here * Cablegram in N. Cablegram in Wax* Times. rara'pa Baily Times. London, Jan. 30. AN ASTOUNDING Doctors are using DEVELOPMENT IN Routgen'a discovery PHOTOGRAPHY. in photography, which enables pictures to London, Jan. 31. be secured through Doctors arc usins? opaque substances. Routgen's discovert They have already in photography which obtained astounding enables pictures to results. Call-tones, be secured through stones in the bladder, opaque substances, and injuries to the and have already obbones are easily seen, tained astounding results. Mr Gladstone'* stones in the bladder and injuries to bonea are easily sec*.

In accordance with the terms of the Infant Life Protection Act, Mr Askcroft, Coroner, held an inquest on Tuesday afternoon on tha body of a three weeks' old infant named Daisy Bradbury, which died on Monday at the house of Mrs Brown, Wordsworth street, where it was boarded out. Dr Teare deposed that the cause of death was wasting from imperfect digestion, and the jury, oc which Mr It. Burrows was foreman, \ a verdict accordingly.