ECHOES OF THE WEEK.
Satire's my weapon, but I’m too discreet To run amuck and tilt at all I meet. Pope,
OY SCRUTATOR.
Sir Walter Buller reminds me very much of the immortal character in 11 Doinbey,” Major Joseph llagstock, late of the East India Company’s service, who, as readers of Doinbey and Sou will no doubt remember, was apt to allude to himself as “ Cute sir, cute, and, ahem, devilish sly.” But “Cocky” Buller, as Edward Wakefield used to call him, what time that brilliant but eccentric journalist was editing 1 the Evening Press, is “too clever by half.” Being promptly bowled out in his little dodgo of supplying the virtuous Post with onesided reports of his orations before the Ilorowhenua Commission, Sir Walter put on a bold face and acknowledged ho was the author of such reports. It was a smart move, but the public will still have their own opinion as to the conduct of a party to a ease furnishing the press with a necessarily prejudiced version of the proceedings, and that opinion, I make bold to say, is distinctly unfavourable to Sir Walter Bullor’a conduct in this matter.
In Mr A. L. 1). Eraser, the well-known native agent, who represented the Crown before the Commission, Sir Walter ran against what is vulgarly known as a “snag.” Mr Eraser, who is ns witty as ho is clever, distinctly scored oh his older and ruse opponent at one stage at least of the proceedings. Sir Walter was addressing the Commission, and sarcastically remarked that they had all listened with pleasure and amusement to the examinations of the witnesses by Mr Eraser. That gentleman had been very witty and amusing and so forth, but ho had, said the great Sir Walter, not dealt with many material points. lie had been agreeable, and pleasant, and amusing, but ho reminded him (Sir Walter) of nothing so much as of a" tinkling cymbal.” Later on Mr Eraser had his reply, and, to the vast delight of the Commissioners, agents, witnesses, and the occupants of the “ galleries,” dressed down Sir Walter in the following amusing fashion. He had, he stated, listened to Sir Walter’s speech with attention and was pleased to find that the knight had found him (Mr Eraser) agreeably amusing and so forth. As to Sir Walter’s reference to the agent for tho Crown as a “tinkling cymbal,” he (MiEraser) might remind Sir Walter and tho Commission that he was not tho only instrument of brass in tho proceedings ! This was a very “ nasty knock ” for the Knight of Papaitonga, whoso countenance was by no means wreathed in smiles as the Crown Agent proceeded to “rub it jn” by reminding tho Court in continuation of Sir Walter’s musical simile that tho Knight ought to be an authority on such matters, seeing that tho principal witnessfor Sir Walter most forcibly reminded every one in Court of the existence of the lyre! Sir Walter is now.no doubt, regretting his little sally at MiEraser’s expense. .The references to the instrument of brass and to the Ijrc scored heavily and the laugh was by no means in the Knight’s favour.
From present appearances Mr Chamberla in is finding “Com Paul” a very hard nut to crack, and South African matters generally bear a rather ugly look for John Bull. It’s curious to notice how Cecil Rhodes seems to have dropped out of sight —in the cablegrams at least during the last ten days or so. If is difficult to believe that Rhodes’ mana is extinct, but on the face of things the ox-Uncrowned King of
Routii Africa doesn’t appear to he a very potent factor in the African (pies'ion ju-A now.
Rhodes lias powerful friends, hut he has some veiy bitter enemies. Amongst these latter must bo numbered Olivo .Schreiner, that remarkable woman who wrote that remarkable book, “The Story of an Airman Earrn.” Miss Schreiner married a young Dutch settler, and her sympathies generally are with the Afrikander.' and opp Med to tho Rlmdes inb-re.-t. Miss Schreiner, as readers of her strange but beautiful “ Dreams ” know full well, di-ai ly delights in parables, and, so the story goes, has written one in which Mr Rhodes figu:es as prominently as, for himself and his admirers, disagreeably, it runs as follows: And it came to pass that Cecil Rhodes died, and wlu-n be di-1' b ■ ! »vil claimed him as bis own and took him to lus own place. But when they came to the gates of Pandemonium, they found that the outranco was too narrow, and that Rhodes was too big, so they could not get him in. And they made a great ado about it, and endeavoured to find somo entrance other than tho gate which was too narrow; but all the windows wore too small, and there was no way of getting Cecil Rhodes in. Then tho Bon Dieu (tho good Cod), hearing the great commotion and seeing the trouble and
turmoil there was at the gates of Pande- j monium, sent for them all to come before Ills throne. And when they came the Bon Dicu said, “ What is all this about ?” And the Devil said, “ It is Cecil Rhodes.” “ Well,” said the Bon Dicu, “ lie is yours ; why do you not take him.” “Alas!” said file Devil, “ he is too big; we can’t get him through the gates or through the windows. Wo have tried every way, and it will not do —he is too big.” “ Ah,” said tho Bon Dicu., “so 1 suppose Cecil must come here after all.” And so it was that Cecil entered Heaven because lie was too big to go to tho other place.
In a roundabout way Miss Schreiner’s parable reminds me of the somewhat- illnatured yarn which was concocted by a Liverpool cotton broker at the expense of a fellow-member of the Exchange, whose remarkable facility and power of misrepresentation would have qualified him to edit a New Zealand Conservative paper with great credit to his party. This descendant of Ananias, Brown he was called, was alleged to have died, and, so the malicious humour of his enemies put it, went straight to tho gate of Hades, knowing full well that ho had no chance whatever of gaining admittance to a cooler and more pleasant residence across the Styx. Arrived at tho gate ho knocked loudly and Satan popped out his head and asked, “ \\ hu’s there ?” “It’s me,” said Brown, with a disregard for grammar quite excusable under the circumstances. “ What- ! Brown <1 the Liverpool Cotton Exchange?” exclaimed the Horned One. “ Yes, you know me well enough, open and let me in, old man.” “No (adjectived) fear,” retorted Satan, “you’re too much of a liar for me. Here, wait a minute, I’ll fix you up.” A moment’s pause and Ancient Nicholas coolly handed out a small packet with tho words, “Here is a bit of sulphur and a box of matches. Go and start business lor yourself in this line. Your reputation’s too bad even for this firm. Be off.”
The Australian cricketers have arrived in England, and, for the honour of colonial cricket, I hope wo shall have no rumours of dissipation on the part of the team, as wo did on the last occasion an Australian team visited the Old Country. And, although the interest taken in cricket by colonial newspaper readers is very pronounced—and 1. would not see it otherwise—let us hope tho cable man will not deluge us with trumpery bits of comments upon tho men’s play and appearance, their petty ailments, and so forth, which on previous occasions havo justly called forth such ridicule. I regret to note, however* that already the cable compiler at tho other end is commencing tho old, dreary gamo of wiring out tho empty platitudes of tho London papers. Dor instance, what could be more absurd t) flash along tho cable than tho opinion of the London Standard, which gravely announces that “Blackham was the greatest wicketkeeper over known.” The cablegram man will he telling us next that “ W. G. Grace is one of tho finest bats the world lias ever known,” or that “ Queen Anne is dead.”
Chadband is a well-known name to Dickens lovers, and he and Recksnilf arc now admitted to be typos which never die. It is well known that Dickens jot-tod down any name, wherever and whenever ho came across it, which sounded odd and eccentric, but until the other day, when dipping into an amusing little book by Air Howard Raul, and entitled “ Dinners with Celebrities,” I never Knew how and where “ 80/,” dropped across tho now familiar “Chadband.” Mr Paul, whose entertainment, of the Maceabc order, I well remember seeing when I was a lad, was a personal friend of Dickens, and was in the habit of accompanying the novelist on some of the long walks in which the novelist was so fond of indulging. <bi one occasion Dickons and Mr Paul walked from Stratford to Warwick, and, passing the sign of a draper with Chadband on it, .Mr Paul pointed to it and said, “ i thought you inv :ab-d that
name.” “ No,” was tho reply of Dickons, “ I took it from tli.it very sign, and you are one of the few people who have noted tho discovery. 1 saw it a year or more before 1 used it, popped it 'town in my note-book, and when I was thinking over a name for the character I was then engaged oil Chadband se ,, m i d to tit it : and it was a tolling stroke, for people seem lo remember both the character and the name.'' It would be interesting to know wh.it was the fate of that signboard. Ik can hardly be in existence, for “ Bleak JJoUoe” was published over forty years ago. A correspondent sends me a marked
tains two items, at least, wiueh go to prove that new spaper report i ng in Groymouth is of a somewhat elementary character. Thus I read that “ that tho Bishop of Christchurch delivered a very instructive lectured (sic) last evening in tho South Sea Islands which fully demonstrated the civilising of the Christianising influence of the clergy in those islands, the inhabitants of which were so degraded.” Tho italics are mine, of course. Judging from
what wo have read from timo to time of the way in which the “ Christianising influence of tho clergy ” has worked in some of tho Pacific groups (notably iu Tonga when His Excellence the Rev Shirley Baker was “boss” thereof), I should say it was high time the said influence was “civilized.” When the“ missionaries” live in fine houses and amass large private fortunes whilst the poor natives toil in their plantations and are ground down by irksome restrictions and oppressive taxation, it seems to mo that it is just as well that the so-called “Christianising influence ” should become more “ civilized.” But neither the bishop nor the reporter meant to put it that way, I fear.
Another paragraph in the same journal recounts the sad end of a poor feilow who met his death whilst getting logs out of some bush. The Argus says
“A fatal accident happened close to Moana, Lake Brunner, yesterday afternoon, by which a man named Kemp Erickson, met his death. He was engaged sawmilling. His duty appears to have been drawing the logs out of the bush. Just exactly how Inc Occident hapjicned does not scon to be eery clear til present ; but it scents to be guile clear that he was crushed by the logs he was bringing to the pit.”
One thing at least is “clear ” and that is that “ clearness ” is not exactly the strong point of the .1 rgus. The journal in question is a Conservative organ, and the most charitable explanation of its awful state of muddle, as exemplified in the foregoing paragraphs, is that the stall has been reading, and trying to understand, some of the recent Opposition speeches.
But when such a well-conducted journal as the Melbourne Argus gives cause for mirth as it did in a recent issue, a New Zealand journalist may well bo excused. About three weeks ago the following items appeared in the Argus, under the heading of “Adelaide News
Mr Justice Bundey, in concluding the criminal sittings to-day, uttered an emphatic warning to criminals who, finding the eastern colonies too hot for them, sought to open up operations in South Australia. Many felons havo arrived lately from the eastern colonies, and have given the police considerable trouble.
His Excellency Sir T. Eowcll Buxton and suite returned to-day Horn the eastern colonies.
This was very unkind—to Sir Thomas Eowcll Buxton. It is to lie hoped that tho Adelaido police kept a keen watch over the movements of the gubernatorial “ felon. “ Wommera” in the Australasian, commenting upon the curious effect ot tho quaint juxtaposition of tho two paragraghs, significantly says that “ when Mr Justieo Bundey hurled his boomerang, lie hardly expected it to come back to him in this remarkable form.
A correspondent, 11. J l ’., asks if I liavo read a recently-published novel by “ Harry Lauder” entitled “ Stages in the Journey.” 1 have not, but I must keep a look-out for its appearance in the local hook-shops, for if its contents can be judged by au extract forwarded by my correspondent, it must lie a highly humorous work. Here is the extract referred to: “ Rresontly she re-appeared with a frying-pan, which she placed on the gas stove, and having paused to re-arrange her hair proceeded to fill it up with liver and bacon.” With “liver and bacon.” Well, I’ve hoard of a good many queer “ hair restorers” in my time, but this new treatment must take the cake for oddity.
In Chambers' Journal for M ireh (the oldestablished magazine is, I can assure my readers, better than ever as a compendium of really interesting and useful articles) I find a very quaint, description of an old school geography (published in 17bS), and discovered by some Kentish schoolboys in a cave. The maps in this geography tf nearly two centuries ago aie amusingly
instructive in their mistakes and unk-sioiis. California is an island; Australia and New Zealand are incomplete outlines; the interior of Africa is supplied with a few lakes ; and the whole of Central Asia is a blank. But when we oo,no to study tiio political configuration of the world, as studied by the dead aiid-goue school boys of 1 7 I.S, one meets with sumo more extraordinary things. Canada is French, a few of Lhe“plautatiou ” States are English, and the rest of North America is marked “ Spanish.” In Europe, Turkey—now the “ Sick Man” though not “sick unto death,” as he ought to bo wore
Lord Salisbury as strong a man as bis admirers give him credit lor being—is in the rudest of health, occupying Hungary and Greece, which latter wo are told, “ doth groan under tho Ottoman yoke.” Poland and Sweden are powerful nations; Germany not having, as yet, evolved a Bismarck, i 3 made up of three hundred little states; while Holland “ lias recently advanced itself to such power as to become torriblo even to crowned heads.” Among a great mass of miscellaneous
information, wo gather that tho“Japanners” aro tall, California is cold and sterile, and Chili rendered almost uninhabitable lay tho devastations of tho condor. The “Japanners” were, I am afraid, not personally known to the geographical teacher of 1718, or he would have known that tho Jap was then as now, “on the small side;” and as to California being “cold and sterile,” tho ghost of that geographer would have a fit wero ho to walk round tho’Erisco fruit market to-day and know that tho Golden State is looked upon as a great sanatorium for eastern consumptives. They didn’t “ know everything down in Judee ” —I mean, in 17IS.
The IVeUingtonian for April, the quarterly magazine of Wellington Collego sayings and doing is to hand, and is an excellent number. Under Mr Firth’s zealous and tactful control the College is making big strides, and the school magazine records the progress made, not only in scholastic, but in athletic and other recreative directions in a very pleasant and readable fashion. From tho Odds and Bads column, which is mainly devoted to examination “curiosities,” I clip the following tit bits:
First Form Geography: —“ What river is this ?’’ First Boy : “ The Grey River, sir.’’ “Next!” “The Rhone.” “Right.” First Bov: “ Please, sir! roan is nearly the same as grey ; there are only a few more specks of colour.” “ Sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy’s child.” Notes: “Fancy’s child —alluding to his romantic dreams.” Master : “ Why does Milton call Shakespeare’s, Fancy’s child ?” Boy: “ Because of his rheumatic dreams.”
“Now broach ye a pipe of Malvoisie, bring pasties of tho doe.” “ What is meant by ‘pastiesof the doe’?” “ Breadpuddings, sir.” One of our prominent members, when asked by the Head-master whether lie had time to do some work for him, replied, “No, sir; but 1 can get it from some one else.”
Another, at the time in charge of the Big Dormitory, on tho firebells ringing cried out loudly, “ Hullo, there’s a fine ! 1 wonder where it is ?” and when some small youth softly uttered, “Where is it?” ho cried out, “Stop your row! Don’t you know that there is to be no noise in here ?”
Last week 1 indulged in what I was pleased to imagine was a little harmless and certainly not ill-natured satire upon the fact that an Auckland lady had started business as a mining broker. I have now received the following lotlor, which speaks for itself, and to which I really feel quite incapable of replying, so great is my nervous agitation at the unexpected severity of tho onslaught: —
To Scrutator. —Sir, On reading your article about tho lady .sharebroker I felt inclined to echo Burns’ wish that wo might “see ourselves as others see us. 1 write this “more in sorrow than in anger,” as till lately 1 have been a constant reader and thorough admirer of your “ Echoes.” But Lately you have developed a talent for witticisms (?) of tho “New Woman” order. In your article you say—“At a timo when most maidens are absorbed in the latest announcements of bargain sales, and as to the intentions of presumably eligible young men.” 1 consider that remark an insult to tho New Zealand girls and women, to infer that they have not brains enough to comprehend, or take an interest in anything more important than men or sales. Why should not any girl or woman enter into all honourable, professions in order I" be financially independent ? Can you show me one logical reason why she should not do so? If not, then restrain your sneers. All honour and credit to her if she does, instead of being “absorbed” in men. Those “absorbed ones are (he exceptions which prove the rule, and are more to bo pitied than Mamed, as they have, till recently, been denied tlm opportunity of Irdng “ absorbed ” in anything else. Tho Sodden Government has done much to remove obstacles in the way of women desiring to enter various Government Departments. I cannot understand your stylo of writing at: all lately, as it has always been characterised by fairness and justice on other subjects. Are you in earnest when j you write as you did last week, or do you j pretend to believe it is true for the sake of displaying your talent? In either | case it is reprehensible, if the former, | you should speedily disabuse your mind of those idea. 1 , and cultivate a more generous and courteous (■■pint toward womankind. Remember, your mother was a woman
that is, unless you were like T<q>sy, and never had one. If the latter, it. is equally deserving of censure. Surely the spirit of chivalry is not entirely extinct. As I said before, why should a woman not earn her living, in preference) to being “absorbed” in men and sales, without being made a butt for ridicule? By entering into business women show that they are not “absorbed" in men and sales, and possibly the masculine vanity and conceit are touched. The idea that women are “absorbed” in men prevails simply because tho wish is father to the thought. As 1 ho world grows older it grows wiser, and the masculine mind must also take part in the march of progress. In one part of “Echoes” you say, “As tho ‘New Woman,’ I know, reads her ‘Echoes’ with praiseworthy regularity, I. pause for a reply to tho above points.” As to the former part of the sentence, 1 do not know what
you mean by tho “ New Woman ” • the term may include so much but I can speak for myself. ). havo
always read “ Echoes ” withgre.it pleasure and no doubt others do the same, but if your brilliant (?) witticisms about tho “New Woman” continue, your articles will share tho samo fate as the lending articles in a certain evening paper, namely, simply bo passed over. Constant repetition of any subject bee miasm >aotoncus in time, no matter how witty or meritorious when first dealt with, but how much more so when there is neither merit nor wit in the first iu.-tince. Your request for a reply in the latter part of your sentence must bo my apology for trespassing on your valuable space. In conclusion I would remind you that that many women do not take up vocations hitherto occupied exelusiveW by men, from choice, but in many eases are compelled to earn their living through unexpected reverses, therefore they aro entitled to a special consideration and courtesy in addition to that usually shown to their sex. — lam Ac., A Gnu. WHO MKKS TO lIKAII SK.N’SE, not xoxkkxse.
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Mail, Issue 1261, 30 April 1896, Page 23
Word Count
3,632ECHOES OF THE WEEK. New Zealand Mail, Issue 1261, 30 April 1896, Page 23
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