The Time that Passes

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 7847, 8 July 1911, Page 11

The Time that Passes

By Selwyn Kideu. Once on a limo a croaking Owl, From Adulation not averse. Said. “When I sins (you need not scowl;, I shall amaze the Universe." But when a Jester choked t’ao Fowl Nobody seemed a whit the worse. Brother, howe'er you mock and growl And fume and fret and snarl and curse When dotards prate and Dullards howl. If. undeterred by Kobe and Cowl, , You .sometimes choke a croaking Owl. You've learned the Lesson of lliis Verso. —lmam Sliamalh. important. VV/iTH great surprise and now born roVv verence 1 read in the columns of a ponderous contemporary that a speech to be made by Mr Massey is "‘an ©vent of much importance." 1 don’t for a moment suppose that in his heart Mr MasKcy himself would over have suspected that; indeed, 1 can conceive of Mr Massay us being kept in a state of chronic nervous plover by these strange and injurious in.srepreseutalions to which certain of Jus indiscrecUsl and less intelligent supporters are so prone. However that may be, this speech will have been made before this note reaches you, amigos, and lur aught i know tun whole face of nature may have been changed beyond recognit.on by this orator bciore ‘Saturday moriuug. Having regard to ’ that possibility, I protest, 1 protest, savagely with my hand on my waist- 1 coat, against tho lack of proper feeling : shown by Clarke and Meynoii (I can't ( say "Messrs," 1 suppose, because one of i them happen’s to be a baronet) —I pro-1 test against tho lack of good feeling ! shown by these people in opening the Opera House on the very night on which Mr Massey was billed to come out from j among the cobwebs and say something* important. Worse than that, there is tho Arts Club—a New Zealand concern, i dear spinsters and plump gentlemen—which will meet at the same time, doubtless with tho wicked intent to do Mr Massey further injustice. And the Exhibition, I am credibly informed, will keep open. And the Governor and the .Acting-Premier will be away from tho capital, and cruel duty will compel me to be elsewhere myself. And —well, I toll you, 1 feel real nltd about it. This morning I did try to persuade three old-age pensioners to attend Mr Massey's awakening and present him with a bouquet of potato blossoms. But they mumbied a flat refusal. They said, "If you wants to waste your money, what about some beer?" What, indeedl

Lucid. A recently convicted bigamist in London must rank as a criminal of remarkable courage, ingenuity, and endurance. It was found that he had corresponded with forty-two women* simultaneousiy[f any of you, simple souls, ever happen to have corresponded .with three women at once (with intent amorous;, .your will easily understand hdw tremendous the courage aiid enterprise of this 'Lucid was* Lucid he was by name, and lucid he needs must be. Being a shad© loss lucid than ho should have been. Lucid is no more seen in the ways of common men, and forty-two women have lost their immediate interest in tho postman, It must have been tho postscrlpcs overcame him; or (since he got .£I3OO v from one fond dame) it may have .been tho win©. Horses.

Kiss C. W. Christie, who is lecturing on Theosophy in Wellington just now, is an ingenuous and simple soul. Also, she knows such queer new things about horses that it might bo well if sho lectured through, the country under thoi auspices of the Department of Agriculn turo, • with the Minister in attendance' to answer confusing questions. Miss Christie says,' in effect, that when a horse shies, it is merely because ft is being driven through a spook, a wraith or spectre invisible to man, but perfectly visible to horses and (one supposes) very horrid. The old idea that a horse shies at a bit of paper in the gutter or an empty bottle by the roadside is, to bo abandoned and condemned as obsolete without further parley. Also, as some horses shy frequently, and some never shy at all, it is proved that some horses have tho gift, of seeing spooks, and some horses aroj denied it. The shyers arc Theosophists, tnd the non-shyers will just go into Limbo with the other damned souls, mo *nd you and the rest of us. The shyers ire creatures specially endowed, like r drunks and nervous housemaids, became they ''see things.” As to tho elephant and the giraffe, the whining wowser and •die tufted duck, we have at present no information. Maybe Miss Christie is saving it for Sunday. Incidentally, it is interesting to note that these are progressive times. Some years ago in India, I travelled with Mrs Besant for some weeks and hoard all her great lectures. She was a wonderful and most unselfish woman of great and singular charm, and wo loved her, every sad dog of us. She had nothing to say about the psychic ey© of cows kind horses. Even Theosophy is getting v eh, and I hope we shall soon hear what At is that tho tom cat sees when he assaults the night with those pathetic noises. That is a mystery I have always wanted to have cleared up. N Apropos. A dear friend of mine, now a judge on the other side, was wont, in his days as a mere politician, to regal© Parliament with ancedotos of an interesting and scientific nature. One I remember. A man was throwing a boot from his open window at a cat-concert one black midnight. To him cam© his little boy. "Why don't you let 'em fight?” asked young Hopeful. "Then they'll all eat each uvver up an' we 5 shall have no\jnore noise at night,” "My con,” said paterfamilias, "that noise means more cats.” I have spoken.

Some one, discussing a member of a former British Government who had been a great failure, onco remarked to Mr Lowe, “They want to make him a peer!” '‘No/' retorted he with his usual acerbity—"they want to make him disappear V* '‘Children* I want to talk to you for a few moments about ono of the most wonderful, one of the most important organs in the whole world," said a schoolmaster to a class- "What is it that throbs away, beats n.way, never stopping, never ceasing, whether you wake or •loop, night or day, week in and week out. month in ana month out. year in and year out, without any volition on your part, hidden away in the depths, as it were, unseen by you, throbbing, throbbing, throbbing rhythmically all your life long'*’ There was a pause for oratorical effect. “I know,” came from a small voice—"it's the gas-meter!"