THE TIME THAT PASSES

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 7445, 20 May 1911, Page 13

THE TIME THAT PASSES

BY SELWYN RIDER. A Jackal met a patient Ass Slow-plodding through a wealth of grass. Tho Jacl—l said, ‘The world is drear; I cau’t find any oifal here.” To whom tho Asa: "To me it’s plain^ That food bo foul must cause you pain. Tho Jackal scoffed. "Only an ass Would turn from meat to munch damp grass, ” Jusd> then two Lions passed that way. And made tho disputants their prey. There is a moral to this Fable-. Eat what you like while you are able. The Lions lurk; and. bo it said. You’ll eat no more when you arc dead. Eat while you may, for while you do Tho Worms can’t make a meal of you. —Shafir bin Kazouk. CLIMATE.

Strange how. the nerves and the mind of a man are affected by climate. I do not moan by extremes of temperature; they only stand for a part of the effect. I have been vastly liverish and dull in Dunedin, with a shade temperature of fii'ty; and I have been delightfully healthy and gay in Dollar, with the shade temperature a score above the hundred. Even Tain does not always depress, though the rain of Auckland and of Wellington is uniformly depressing, On Tasmanian hills, and away out back in Queensland whore the b:cr lone stations are, I have known rain to bo positively delicious and invigorating. Even wind, horrible in bleak suburbs or a dusty town, is refreshing on a yacht or in afforest. No, the influence of climate seems odly independent of what I nia v call climatic incidents, I have felt iaded and irritable duriflg much recent genial weather in Auckland; but hero ■it Hamilton I am unprccedently sqry. Permit me to state tho rule that the weather of the Waikato never depresses and seldom enervates. Yesterday was genial—a temperature just exquisite, a breezo Just perceptible, a sky miraculously blue. To-day is searching—a temperature that talks of glaciers, a mar-row-nipping wind, a sky as grey as - a forgotten amourette. And yet the weather, so glorious yesterday, is to-day still glorious. In the South, when the wind has whirled me and the- dust has pelted, I have stood on a street-corner and cursed volubly, to tho horror of adjacent beldames. Nothing of tho sort could liappen in Hamilton. Dust there is at times, and rain that pelts and lashes; but with it all the weather-gods are decent. Climates must be classified according to their effect on tho mind and 'the liver of a man, and in that light the •climate of the Waikato is one of the finest iu the world.

THE SILENT SHERIFF. This information was not obtained from the sheriff. When seen yesterday, that officer again declined to state in what way he was keeping the defendant in custody. “Pdiave got him in charge," he said, and, when further pressed, he added that he thought that was all the public need be told.—Daily paper, item.

Tho reporter said, “I hope that you Have not, him strapped down on a couch of spikes, . . , , And are hourly stuffing him tight with stewAnd all of tho things that ho most dislikes. . . . I hope, for the sake of the public mind That Shudders so much at these secret oases. That you'll put' both his eyes out and, leave him blind. And brand him on each of his tonderut. places. . All mercy to him would he highly absurd. You'Ll agree." But the Sheriff said never a word. Tho reporter said, ‘T suppose you'll break Hia arms and his legs; and tho better to harrow . , ~ His feelings well (for tne public sake) You might Etuiirr- something poisonous into his marrow. I trust you’ll bo firm and will never relent. The thumb-screws should help you to tame enoli a ruffian Then, in order to mako him more truly repent. You’.ll see that his cell is a dark, and a stuffy 'un. : Ground-glass served in milk will do much, I have heard. . .. Have you tried that?” The Sheriff-sa.d never a word. Tho reporter snapped, "Don’t you hear ma ■ speak? Don’t you know I am IT, and you’re merely a minion? I could have you dismissed from yonr post in a week; • All tho Ministers how when X state my opinion. You might pour some well-molten lead into his throat. Or bathe him (:et’s say) in some pitch that is boiling, Or read to him one of tho leaders I wrote When to wreck him outright I was telling and moiling. You take it from me, I’m a very wise bird. Don’t you think so?” Tho Sheriff said never a word. . * * * « * COMPETITIONS. We are in the throes of competitions of the sort they call (with winking para-j ■dox) literary ’ an<l musical. Most of thoj young people recite but poorly, and sing but ill; while, as to , eome of the elder people who eiug—kind Heaven save and pity us! Last night we had the most dreadful mandolin-duet I ever listened to. Ttio maudolinists each manifested an uncompromising independence or contempt of the other fellow's ideas and intentions, and the piano warred hopelessly with both of them. ’Then there was the young gentleman who, without accom- 1 paniment, blew for - twenty dreadful minutes' into a huge brass instrument, and found tho task so formidable that. he bad to take his coat off to it. These are very painful memories; and because they are not yours, I congratulate you cordially. But still I persist in my contention that these competitions serve an excellent purpose. The competitors are all eager and alert to do a thing worth doing. They are all actively interested iu subjects that ripen the mind and spur a healthful imagination. They are all for awhile removed from the plane of the material to the plane of tho spiritual. They must, with all the force and earnestness possible to them, concentrate for a time cm the things that eount. For those reasons, among others, I am convinced that these competitions are productive of great and lasting good.

HUMOUR. There is, of course, no denying the fact that the contests are often very humorous whore no humour is intended. Some of tho worst instrumentalists play with tho greatest flourish and serenest con. fidonce. And some of the singers betray ©very symptom of unutterable woe. Yestorday, one spectacled enthusiast from Auckland was singing a love-song. Ho sang with feeling; but his contortions and grimaces all suggested that love is a nasty medicine, not even to bo mentioned without intolerable premonitory qualms. With his face thus twisted by dire por. tents, the singer strained bis body this way and that: much as. in India. I have seen men strain in the pangs of a mortal colic. In the matter of stage-deport-ment. the girls and women are generally superior to the boys and men. Apart from her dress, your feminine person has 1 always some saving quality of taste, some I redeeming sense of fitness and proportioni In these contests, the men supply the humour. " There was that frantic youth already referred to, who took off his coat in order that he might more furiously attack the big brass instrument. Weirdly he played, and sadly; and though this audience, sighed and groaned, he never stayed his hand. Ho was just the sort of incident our professional teachers of music would proffer as proof of their queer contention that such competitions do not raise the standard of musical art. Tho fact these protesting ones .overlook is that, if his practice for these contests improves that yetmg man’s performance

or ability one iota, tho contests are already justified of their intention. Even as things are, there are oases. Tho violin-playing last night was amazingly good. My friend Arthur Toweey, the sound musician who is judging in that section, says that ho never heard tho violin played so well at any other competition.

CIRCULATION. | There is another point to be considered, j Those ’competitions improve what I can - only call the circulation of the countryEven to so small an event as this at Hamilton, young people come long dis- 1 tances. AVo have whole choirs from the, Thames and from Auckland. , Acquaint- 1 ances are made, and friendships formed. People meet who otherwise would pro- ■ bably never meet at all, and so right; through the country tho bonds of sym. j pathy are widened and made strong. in , this way, tho competitions may eventually j prove an excellent corrective for that mischievous paiochial spirit that so many of us deplore. The friendly spirit that; animates these contests is in itself a veiy j good thing. When Hamilton competi-l tors axe beaten (as frequently happens) j the victor is none the less heartily , up-! plauded. Even when competitors differ I from a judge (a thing that happens with; undoviatiug regularity), they are quite good-natured about it. Tho Waikato is; full of good nature. Visitors are treat-: ed as lire guests of the district. Mr Greenslade, the indefatigable member, is for over consumed with an amiable anxiety lost somebody might miss something. With duo care in management, tho competitions at Wellington will easily become the great national event in this kind. Already, people all over the_ north tell me that they are going to Wellington for tho competitions. Quito a number of tho folks now in Hamilton are keen. Auckland nnd Dunedin and Christchurch aro all good in their places; but—well, after all. Wellington is Wellington. It is tiro capital and natural centre to which the thoughts of Njw Zealanders instinctively torn!. Even Auckland pays tribute. Air J. F. Montague is bringing down tho strikingly able company of readers that lend distinction to the Auckland Shakspere Society- Numbers of vocalists and reciters have already decided to take the trip. Everything promises well, if Wellington does its part.