HERE AND THERE.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXVII, Issue 3437, 19 May 1898, Page 4

HERE AND THERE.

No fresh war or combination against England was announced yesterday (says the London correspondent of the Australasian) but the murder of young Woolf Joel by a German-Atnerican desperado was telegraphed over from Johannesburg. It is like the Terriss assassination over again, only the assassin is a more picturesque villain, more of the Deeming type. Joel was Barney Barnato’s nephew and partner. The murdered man’s career was a romance. Born of poor parents in an East End slum, educated at one of those free schools which the Jews had long before Boards Schools were heard of, hte bright, handsome, quiet, resolute lad dreamt of splendid fortune, and possessed the qualities to make dreams realities, No scope for him in London, however. Barney Barnato, already established at Kimberley, sent for his nephew soon after the' boy left school to help him in his business. There is a legend that Barney Barnato’s staple business in those early days was 1.D.8.; that once npon a time Barney had bought an uncut diamond of immense value, which he kept in the heel of his boot, but wanted to get to Oape Town. One night the detectives surrounded Barney’s office. Barney banded Woolf Joel a couple of small diamonds, perhaps worth a ■£/) note. To be found with a single uncut stone of any size in'your possession meant “ two years" on Robin Island. The detectives getting impatient at last broke in the door. Young Joel made a violent attempt to escape, while his uncle was speebless with amazement. The lad was seized, searched, the diamonds found, to Barney’s horror, ‘f Never look me in the face again, sir," he exclaimed. “ I disown you." He even went down to Cape Town to see the ungrateful lad tried and convicted. Barney never forgot his nephew’s self sacrifice, and when the latter “ came out" took him into partnership, and made him a big man at berley, and a bigger man in Johannesburg and London. The poor fellow bad a splendid business head, certainly, great coolness, superb judgment) and not a bad heart,

There are many good things in the recently published diary of Sir Mountstuart Grant Duff. Here is a story of the great charge of German cavalry at Mara-la-Tour “ It became necessary at a particular moment to save the army at any sacrifice, by gaining time until more troops could come up. The General in command directed Bunsen’s informant (George Bunsen told the story) to rid up to two regiments and give to their commanding officers the order to advance. These two were the crack, regiments of the Prussian service—the regiments into which the young men of family and position were most anxious to get. Obedient to orders, and himself fully convinced of the wisdom of the command, he rode up to Anerswald, the senor officer of the two commanders, and told him to advance against the French • You are not serious,’ the latter replied. * You do not mean me to attack the whole French army.’— 1 1 am serious,’was the rejoiner. 1 1 bring you positive orders to do so,* Auldswaid bowed, and sending for the young prince of Hohenzollem, who was one of his subalterns, ordered him immediately to ride off the field. The young man said, 1 X have done nothing to deserve this,’, and burst into tears, Anerswald replied, 1 Your family has suffered quite enough. I order you as a soldier to do your duty and obey your oommahding officer.’ He then

directed bis men to advance, first at a foot’s pace, then at a trot, then at a gallop. They did so, and were of course almost all destroyed. When the survivors had broken through the French, Auerswald ordered the burgles to sound the assembly. Slowly and gradually some sixty-seven were mustered. Auerswald said:—‘Soldiers, I thank you : you have done your duty. Long live the King 1 ’ and fell from his horse mortally wound. He recovered consciousness and died the next day. About three hundred only of the two regiments remained alive, bat the army was saved."

And now for some general samples (taken from a review in the Spectator) of Sir Mountstuan’s very various and at tractive wares. It is possibly a chestnut, but will bear serving up again, that Tom Sheridan, reading Euclid with his tutor and finding it tedious, asked, “ Was Euclid a good man ? ” The tutor did know. “ Was ho an honourable, truthful man?”—“We know nothing to the contrary.”—“Thou don’t you think we might take his word for all this ?_’’ Here are two Irish specimens. Hearing some stories of a very oppressive landlord, a tourist remarked, “ You Irish have the reputation of being given to agrarian murder; how is it that these men can live in the country ? ” —Oh'. sir, you know what’s everybody’s business is not nobody’s business.” One is reminded of the South American President, who, not being shot at for a fortnnight, remarked, —“ This want of interest in public affairs is the curse of our country ! ” An English gentleman was staying with an Irish friend. As they drove home in the dusk, a bullet flew past them just as they were passed tbe lodge gates. ‘ Good God 1 what is that ? ’ said the stranger.—‘ Oh 1 ’ answered the Irishman, 1 it’s only the lodgekeeper.’—‘Lodgekoeper?’ said his friend, ‘ that gun was loaded with ball.’ — 1 Of course,’ was the rejoiner.—‘ Had we not better sent for the police immediately, and have the ruffian arrested ? ’ ssid his friend.— 1 Heaven forbid,’ was the reply, ‘ he is the worst shot I ever had 1 ’ ”

Sir Mountstuart tells a good story of Sergeant Merewether. “He got into a railway carriage with Lord Campbell, who was then Chancellor, and tried to enter into conversation. Campbell, how ever, was as cross and uncivil as possible, saying at last, ‘ Why, Merewether, you get worse and worse; you are as fat as a porpoise.’ —‘ Fit company, my Lord,’ said his companion, ‘ for the Great Seal ’ ” This was neat, but we can give another more brilliant, for Merewether was not always in the humour for talking in a railway carriage. A fellow-traveller had been boring him all the way up from from Swindon. When they came to Hanwell, “ Looks well from the rail,” said the bore. —“ And how does the rail look from Hanwell ? ” (At Hanwell is situated a big lunatic asylum) replied the Sergeant. An M.P. yawned during his own speech. Some one observed, “ This man is not without taste, but he usurps our province.” Of a dilatory bookbinder; “Ah 1 yes, a good, careful man ; he has got a great many of my books which I never expect to see again,” “ I have found not a little difficulty in bringing myself to say that you are sober,” said an employer to his drunken butler. “Don’t you think,” replied the man, “ as you have gone so far, that you might say ‘frequently sober ’ ? ”

Tne Quiver, speaking of the Queen’s Biblical studies, says:—“ She and the Prince Consort were reading Scripture together and discussing its meaning when a point arose in connection with the different rendering of the passage in the English and Lutheran versions. To settle it the Prince sect a messenger to the British Museum to borrow a copy of Luther’s Bible. The official from the museum, when he arrived, was shown into the Queen’s private sitting-room, and was not a little surprised to sse the Queen and Prince Consort sitting at a table with open Bibles and deeply engaged in study. The Prince was pleased to find that Luther’s Bible supported his views.”

A funny story is current in Paris concerning the expedition of Lieutenant Baron Hourst to the Niger river. Ha took with him a number of coloured pictures of President Faure—in which he was shown wearing an eyeglass. The dusky Babbaras ladies had never seen an. eyeglass before and their enthusiasm for the French President knew no bounds. This led an unscrupulous Parisian servant of the baron to co iceive the bright idea of wearing an eyeglass himself, in order to show the French ruler in life. The result was that many of the native ladies forsook their lawful lords and followed him. Then followed a lively demonstration on the part of the jealous chiefs. The photographs of the deputy President had to be suppressed in haste, and the expedition beat a speedy retreat to the sea coast, its object thus frustrated by the means of a monocle.

■When a boy, President M‘Kinley, of the United States, was a soldier in the army, and a capital little story is told of him in this connection. He had been ordered by his general to take a midnight journey and go ahead and hnd the whereabouts of a certain body of troops. His regiment was almost surrounded by rebels, and he had to ride very carefully for fear of stumbling upon a rebel picket. Things went smoothly for a time until he heard the words, in a pronounced Southern accent —“ Halt 1 Who goes thar ? " He knew that no Northerner ever pronounced the word there “ thar," and he turned his horse and rode rapidly the other way. A few moments latei he was stopped again, but the voice this time had a Yankee twang and its words were : “ Halt 1 Who goes there ? ” As soon as he heard the word pronounced in that way young McKinley knew that he was among friends,

In Lord Burton’s younger days, on one occasion when he was travelling by rail, he fell into conversation with a fellowtraveller, who very soon showed that he was interested in brewing. Lord Burton was naturally able to talk very much to the point on this subject, and the two conversed interest. At last, the stranger leaning forward, slapped Lord Burton familiarily on the knee, and said : “ Look here, I like you. You seem to me a man of great sense and enterprise. Now, I am a brewer in a moderate way at . I believe the business is capable of great expansion. I want an able and capable manager to help me in the development. I would pay him a good salary, and if the thing went well, would take him into partnership. Will you be the man ? Now, is that a good offer ? " “ A very good offer,” replied Lord Burton, when he had recovered from his first momentary surprise ; “ but the fact is I have a brewery of my own. My name is Bass—whiph you may have heard of-—." ,