ECHOES OF THE WEEK.
Satire's ray weapon, but I’m too discreet To run amuck and tilt at all I meet. Popk.
BY SCRUTATOR.
I rm sorry to see that Sir Robert Stout has bean so ill-advised as to rake up, at his Ilawera meeting the other day, that time-worn and thoroughly wearisome grievance of his about the succession to the Liberal leadership left vacant by the death of Mr Balia nee. Sir Robert’s egotism and vanity (in political matters) will ever be stumbling blocks in his public career. Ho knows perfectly well that when Mr Ballanco died lie, Sir Robert, could not have got, had tho question of leadership gone to a vote, more than half-a-dozen members of tho party to support him. It is a pity (that Sir Robert, who in some matters can display such breadth of mind, can in others be so bitterly prejudiced and so regardless of anything save his exalted opinion of his own importance, an opinion which is not so widely shared as he appears to imagine.
And this liarping of his on the same cracked old string, “purity of administration,” savours to my mind, as no doubt it does to tho minds of many others who have read tho report of his speech at New Plymouth, of political priggishness, not to say IVcksniffery. Does Sir Robert wish to make tho country believe that ho and ho alone is tho embodiment of political honesty, purity and all righteousness in the present House? It looks like it. To openly declare, as lie does, that “purity of administration” can only be secured by returning a collection of out-and-out Stuutites at the next election is to infer that the present Parliament consists mainly of members who are politically corrupt, dishonest and unpatriotic. \\ hat justification is there for this wholesale slander, this impudent laying down of the theory that political purity and honesty can only ho found in the senior member for Wellington, and tho half-dozen or so weak trimmers who gavo him support ? It is an insult to tho country which sent tho Seddon majority to the House to infer that our present members are opposed to purity of administration. Sir Robert Stout is too fond of this prating about honesty and purity. I will not recall, as I might do, certain acts of the Stout - Vogel Government, or I might very effectually prove that Sir Robert himself lives in a glass-house, and should be tho last to viciously throw stones. I distrust the man who is. ever proclaiming his own righteousness from tho housetops. Political Pharisees, however, rarely succeed, and wo may safely leave Sir Robert to rant and rave about the alleged iniquities of what ho and his friends are pleased to call Soddonism. It will be a long time ere Now Zealand deserts Soddonism for Stoutism.
A Southern journal, which is mainly “ written for asses by asses ” —both of tho so-called “ National ” type of thistle consumer —is good enough to state that in the event of Captain Russell and his friends getting back to power “ the land and
income tax would not bo interfered with and the labour legislation will be given a fair trial.” Now, seeing that the journal quoted from and tho other “Ass” organs are for ever echoing the parrot cry of “ the honourable and gallant member for Hawke’s Bay” that the country is being driven to what Mr Mantalini playfully called “ the demnition bow-wows ” all through the “ wretched, rash, reckless, dishonest ” (no room for other pet Opposition adjectives) policy of tho present Government, it seems to mo that this declaration that no change will be made in the existing legislation by tho Conservatives is at once a confession of weakness and a striking example of tho dishonesty of their criticism. If, as the “Ass” organs allege, the legislation introduced by this Government is radically had and harmful to the country—which it isn’t —surely it is the duty of these worthy patriots to promiso its immediate repeal when they attain ollice. As, however, tho latter event is not likely to come off this side of tho year 19Q0, if oven then, it really doesn’t matter what tho policy of tho “land-grabbing” and wage-reducing party is declared to bo.
The present Tory Government at Home aro doing their best to forward the interests of the “ passim and squoiro,” who helped so materially to send them into office, and so they are striking a deadly blow at the existing education system, which both the village autocrats hate like poison, for the very simple reason that under that system Hodge has got to know that “passun” and “squoiro” are not quite tho Heavensent friends of the people that they represented themselves to be. The voluntary school Bill of cur John Gorst is the Government “measure in aid ” and I notico that the Opposition aro strenuously attacking it. Tho “passun’ and “ squoire,” aidedjby their Tory friends
in power, will, I fear very much, gain tho victory, but it will only be a temporary triumph, for any measure which will aid the clericals to collar the schools must inevitably be repealed. Those interested in educational matters at this end of the world will watch the outcome of the English struggle with much anxiety. The “ Ass ” element in New Zealand is secretly passing the word round that our education system costs too much, and that the expense can he materially reduced without impairing tho actual efficiency of the system ” (extract from private and confidential “AS3 ” circular). No wonder tho “Ass” will not disclose its full hand. Friends of the education system in the Colony will need all their energies and enthusiasm before long —need them to defend the system against attacks which are none the less dangerous in that, at. present , their real character is not openly acknowledged.
One member, at least, of the Liberal Opposition in tho Old Country, Air Asquith, the shrewdest and most able of the Liberals, is fully alive to the dangers ahead oil the subject of education. By a recent issue of the London Daily Chronicle, I notice that the ex-llomo Secretary was present at a meeting of tho Oxford Union Debating Society, at which the motion was, “ That this House condemns the present agitation in favour of voluntary schools.” Tho proposer, a Balliol man, stated that “ the Liberal Party were prepared to defend a system which, whatever its defects, had proved itself a mighty factor for good in our national growth. The proposals of their opponents would mean the min of education and the stirring up of sectarian strife.” Lator on, when tho young lions of tho Union had duly roared on either side, Mr Asquith, who, in his ’Varsity days, was a very prominent member of the Union, made an excellent speech. I make no apology to my readers for introducing the following extract from the closing sentences of a very eloquent address : Iu tho struggle for commercial supremacy the question was not one of hours and wages, but of the workman’s intelligence. Upon the lowest, the most sordid and material grounds, as well as upon those higher considerations which ought to appeal to us all, wo might be sure that tho one chance wo had, as a nation, of maintaining our supremacy, industrial and political, among other nations of the world, lay in our giving the largest and widest possible development to our system of national education at homo. Whoever in deference to sectarian rivalries, or to soothe clerical susceptibilities, was going to cut down and curtail this, which was the greatest and most invaluable of our national resources, though ho might talk largely about empire, was the worst enemy of tho true and legitimate institution of Great Britain, and lie trusted that the House that night, by assent to the motion laid before it, would declare in unequivocal terms its opinion that tho time had not conic for a reversal of that process of educational development which was tho happiest feature of our national life during the last twenty-live years; on the contrary, they ought every one of thorn by legislation, administration, and private influence to do all they could to enlarge the resources of tho country in this respect, and make tho English the best educated people in the whole of the civilised world.
A lady sharebroker is one of the latest developments of the “New Woman” in Auckland. A northern paper gives some biographical details as to the lair speculator—her advertisement, a longish one, appears in the columns of the journal in question —and from those I learn that the lady in question had at an early ago “become imbued with tho mining spirit, though for some years her impressions and desires to take part in the struggle was ( ;i (>) compelled by force of circumstances to lie dormant.” I should like a definition of the “mining spirit,” above alluded to. Does it mean that the lady, at a time when most maidens are absorbed in the latest announcements of “ bargain sales, and as to the intentions—well meant or other wise--of.presumably eligible youngmen, found delight in scanning the monthly report ol the Great Golconda Extended or the Fly by Night United ? Did she spend her spare time studying the rise and fall of tlio markets instead of dallying with the fictional heroes of Mrs Henry Wood and Miss Braddon, and hunt up hack years of the Alines Department reports instead of working at weird tanglements for a man’s coat tails in the shape of the female-adored but male-detested antimacassar ? Why does not tbe biographer give us information on these points lor tho benefit of other “ New Women ” who may not care for telephone work or tho typewriter, and long for the glory and pelf which tho mining broker always makes. As tho “ New Woman,” 1 know, reads her “Echoes” with tho most praiseworthy regularity. I pause for a reply to the above points.
Much as I wish to see “ Woman’s Sphere” —the phrase is much in evidence in these latter days widened and enlarged, I fear I contemplate tho appearance of a
number of lady sharebrokers in Wellington with much anxiety and misgiving. Tho male species of mining broker is, as many of us know to our cost, an insidious, persuasivo person, who so wins us over by the golden glamour of his dreams of future fortunes in the Great Golconda Extended or Fly-by-Night United, that he conjures out of our pockets the liard-earned shekels which, alas, wo then gaze upon for the last time; but just imagine how hard will be the lot of tho investor who may have a little weakness in tho way of susceptibility to female charms when approached on tho subject of a “good tiling”—all mining specs, especially those originating in Auckland, aro “good things” —by a welldressed, comely and pleasantly - spoken lady. The lady canvasser—she who would have us subscribe to tbe “ Illustrated History of Patagonia,” in forty-five monthly parts, at half-a-crown each —we know, some of us to our cost and sorrow; but, as compared with her, the lady mining broker is doubly dangerous. Tho Auckland initiator of this now horror for men, may have much to answer for before long, and I shall never be surprised to find a deputation of Auckland wives appealing to the Government to “put her dawn” as an undue and vicious depleier of hubby’s purse.
The recent general election in Queensland bad its humorous side, as all elections have the wide world over. A particularly smart pun was made by a Mr Isidore Lissuer, a candidate for the Cairns seat. This gentleman had, it appears, been chaffed about lii.s shortcomings in the way of oratory. Mr Lissnor was, however, quite equal to the occasion, for he promptly declared, amidst loud laughter, that lie admitted “ lie was a bad speaker, but at any rate they would all agree with him that he had proved a good Lissner!”
Another story of tho same election recalls an old yarn about Professor Blackie, that delightful old Scot whose wit and wisdom were for years tho glory of Edinburgh. Blackie, it will be remembered, had posted up a notice that ho would meet certain of his classes at the usual hour. Some wags amongst tho students deleted tho letter “e,” whereupon the wily Professor retaliated by rubbing off tho “1,” thus turning the joke against his tormentors. A parallel to this story is furnished by the Longreach (Queensland) Standard, which remarks:— “ Wo notico that Air Fitzgerald’s election posters have arrived in Longreach from the People’s Newspaper ollice, Rockhampton. We have also noticed, casually, that tho posters bore tho words, “ Vote for Fitzgerald, the voice of the Asses.’ After re-
peating the words ‘ truly rural ’ several times satisfactorily, wo came to tho conclusion that the poster hand in the People’s Newspaper office had got inebriated on the strength of the extra job-printing printed from the local office; but tho fact was that tho words had been 1 Vote for Fitzgerald, the voice of the Masses,’ and that some evilly-disposed persons had rudely obliterated tho all-important letter ‘ Al.’ ”
A story is current in Alelbourne about a Coolgardieite who had sold one of his leases which contained a lino deposit of bluestone, to a London syndicate for ,£25,000 as a quartz reef, and who journeyed from the Wild West to see the sights of Marvellous Melbourne, including the defunct financial institutions, the lions at the Zoo, and the poet of the sewerage works. Nothing would sat isfy this auriferous visitor but a bath of champagne. His demand for such a luxury greatly astonished tho mild-mannered manager of the coffee palace where he put up. Tho manager, however, was equal to tho occasion. “ What sort of a hath would you like, sir,” ho asked, “ a No. 1,2, or 3?” “What!” exclaimed the man from G'oolgardie, “ are there different kinds ?” And the manager had to explain, lie took his auriferous visitor to the third story of the palace, and let him look down the lift shaft, sayim/, “Hero we givo No. 1 hath, and when the bather gets out wo send him down to No. 2, and afterwards to the No. 3.” Tho mail from Ooolgardie was a bit astonished, and innocently asked, “ What do you do with the champagno after the third hath ?” Oh, just bottle it, clap a French label on it, and export it with other stuff 1 1 Coolgardie.”
Running through some reviews of recent hooks in the London Dally Chronicle l come across a good story which is told in a Look entitled “ Chronicle’s of Impscmiiosity,” by a Air H. G. Somerville. It is old enough, but it may bo new to some of my readers. 1 he story in question is told of Charles Matthews (the elder), the famous English actor, who delighted to recount how he had once pulled up at a roadside inn and interrogated a depressed-looking waiter as to what he could have for dinner. “Any hot joint?” said tho traveller. “No, sir; no hot joint, sir.” “Any cold one?” “Cold one, sir? No, sir; no cold one, sir.” “Can you broil me a fowl?” “ Fowl, sir ? No, sir; no fowl, sir.” “No fowl! and in a country inn!” exclaimed Matthews. “Let
me have some eggs and bacon, then.” “ Eggs and bacon, sir ?” said the waiter. “No eggs and bacon, sir.” “ Confound it I” at length said the traveller, “ what have you got in the house?” “An execution, sir,” was the prompt response of tho doleful waiter.
In some extracts from “ Dinners with Celebrities,” by Air Howard Paul, reviewed in the same journal, I come across a capital example of the ready wit of the lalo Henry J. Byron, the author of “ Our Boys,” and so many other amusing and successful plays. “Almost tho last time I met Byron before his death,” says Air Paul, “ho had been to a wedding of a friend of his, a Alt’ Day, who married a lady named Alice "Week. Wo were dining at Blanchard’s Restaurant, in Regentstreet, and he had just written a couplot to send to tho happy pair, and, knowing how much I appreciated his wit, he handed it to me to read. I copied it on a slip of paper, audit struck me as being particularly happy. It went : A Week is lost, a Day is gained, Tho loss we’ll ne’er complain ; There’ll soon be little days enough To make a week again.”
A good many of my readers aro, I am sure, well acquainted with the works of “A.H.1v.8.,” under which now familiar initials is concealed tho identity of the Rev. Dr Boyd of St. Andrew’s. Dr Boyd is known the whole world over ns tho author of “Tho Recreations of a Country Parson.” lie lias, I notice, just i üblishod some “Reminiscences of St. Andrew’s,” from which l have copied out the two following stories:—“A striking instance of co-opera-tion with tho Almighty in the moral government of this universe. Two men strangers to one another, came together out of an establishment where they had each been exorbitantly charged for a very good dinner. One said, ‘He ought to be punished for such extortion.’ But the answer camo, ‘ Oh, don’t be hard on him. God has punished him already, very bad. Ary pocket is full of bis spoons !’ ——. Then the co-worker with the Divine Ruler departed rapidly.’—* A young mother was telling her little boy about the Israelites worshiping the golden calf. She pointed out how very bad it was that people should pray to such a thing: and expatiated. The little boy heard with great attention. A quite new idea had entered his mind. But instead of being horror-stricken, as his mother intended, lie said, with quiet determination, ‘ I'll say my prayers to-night to my donkey.’ ”
On the subject of doctors versus chemists, a country correspondent, “Justice,” sends me the following letter: — To Scrutator : — Sir, —Will you permit me a few lines on the subject of “Doctors and Druggists.” i am aware physic is not a fascinating subject at any time, but having been more than forty years dealing with medicine, both in the West End and East End of London, as well as in this colony, I should like, in justice to tho chemists) to say a few words. Tho insinuations of “Modicus” in tho New Zealand Times supplement are unworthy of a member of a very honourable profession. The chemist of tho present day is obliged to undergo a very difficult and scientific examination before ho is permitted to carry on his business, and this is done that he may lie enabled to make up, with safely to the public, the prescriptions of medical men. The very
t hing for which the law compels them to ho examined, is frustrated by the greed, and often, 1 fear, the jealousy of tho medical profession. A chemist lias to make himself thoroughly acquainted with the proper and safe doses of medicine, and 1 myself, possessing that knowledge, saved, not so very long ago, three lives in the course of one year, and also tho reputation of the medical man who prescribed tho wrong doses. There would bo little prescribing by chemists if tho law would strictly prohibit medical men selling medicines. If tho public would only recognise it, it would be far safer for them that their prescriptions went through tho hands of an educated dispenser, who would prevent any dangerous mistake which men of unexceptional knowledge sometimes make, and it would save their pockets also. 'There should be no handling of medicines except by those brought up to their use, and the Government should protect the chemist in his lawful and responsible calling. —I am, Ac., Justice.
The Echoes column is open to "Medicus” for reply, and J shall then bring the correspondence to a close.
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Mail, Issue 1260, 23 April 1896, Page 23
Word Count
3,314ECHOES OF THE WEEK. New Zealand Mail, Issue 1260, 23 April 1896, Page 23
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