PASSING NOTES.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 8861, 19 July 1890, Page 5 (Supplement)

PASSING NOTES.

(Prom tho Otago Wltneis.)

" Disocssion by Parliament upon the condition of the colony and its financial and industrial outlook." Humph ! This I take to bo a euphemism for the financial debate that has just expired. On consulting my familiar I find the method of debate to be somewhat as follows:—Forty kon. gentlemen, representing the full fighting strength of the Opposition, rise each in his turn and declare that they have read the ■Financial Statement with grievous pain and disappointment; the situation is alarming; revenue is going down, taxation is going up> and the surplus is a sham; the energies of the public andjtbe magnificent resources of the colony are paralysed and strangled by the gross maladministration of this corrupt and imbecile Government.—(Cheers.) They look to the intelligent electors to cure these evils, and restore prosperity by hurljng the limpetlike occupants off those benches, Sir, into the mire of their native obscurity,—(Cheers, and counter cheers.) Then rise 50 hon. gentlemen, constituting the full righting strength of the Government. Each affirms that he has lead the Statement with the greatest satisfaction and delight. Looked at from a proper point of view, Revenue is going up, taxation is going down, and the surplus is a peculiarly real and substantial one, He denounces the obstructive tactics of a factious Opposition—(cheers)— but is assured that ;their selfish aims will be foiled and the ■permanent prosperity of the country secured :by the continuance in office of the present eminently pure and powerful Administration.—(Cheers and counter cheers.) To : avoid monotony the speakers are sandWiched—one Opposition man being inserted :bet\veen two Ministerialists—anil in this way the debate can bo pleasantly and conveniently continued for two or threo weeks to the satisfaction of all concerned,, except perhaps a few fractious merchants in Dunedin, who seemingly don't know the meaning of the word Parliament, which is " a talking shop." I

The Domestio Servants' Union movement lias not taken the shape and proportions of an insurrection of women; nevertheless ii is shaking rudely the pillars of our domestic ■ peace. No bands of dishevelled Maenads as yet parade the streets shrieking for eight hours work, eight hours play, eight hours sleep, and eight bob a day, but I doubt whether anybody would feel greatly surprised were that phenomenon to present atself to-morrow. The Revolt of Man accomplishes itself in a peaceful and orderly way, by a memorandummiad between Mr J. A. Millar and recalcitrant employers, in which the latter sire chloroformed into non-resistance by threats of a " universal boycott." The ReTolt of Woman, if ever it seriously takes flame, will be a very different matter 1 The '" white slavic " —as one of her advisers in a local print addresses her, commiseratingly— is capable of hysteric flights and fervours •which wonld put Mr Millar's cool and ■cautious diplomacy to utter shame, and very much astonish that gentleman's nerves. I have a notion that the working man does not look with quite unqualified approval on this uprising of the working woman. It is fcco nearly a parody or caricature of his own. "' Limit the hours of a domestic servant's 3abour to 48 in the week," says one Dunedin editor, "and give her pay and a-half for ■overtime." A most reasonable proposal, as we all must allow, —on all fours exactly with ■the Labour Union's demands for working men. But suppose it should happen, as in ■the course of natureit sometimes will, that the ■domestic servant becomes the working man's wife ? How about the 48-hours-a-week rule 3n that case? I can quite understand why tho labour unions that are organised for men should look somewhat askance at similar movements for women. And yet, reverting to first principles and the light of Nature— to which we are returning more and more, day by day—why should the wife's hours of labour be 12 or 11 out of the 24, whilst the husbands'are only eight? What is sauce for the gander ought to be sauce for the goose.

I -have the greatest personal respect for Mr Robert Wilson—our statistical Robert— and his friends " the undersigned citizens." &c, "who have each a large stake," &c. " being; also extensive employers," &o. " who "view with alarm," &c, " the prolonged useless wrangling," &c, "and who hope this expression," &c, "may put a stop to idle words in the Assembly," &o, Nothing could surpass the propriety of the protest. Nothing could surpass its dignity; indeed, if anything, it was almost too heavy—may I be forgiven i£ I say top heavy—with dignity. The Government can scarcely stand the strain of it. Why then should the reply of the city members provoke a chuckle ? Here it is :—

Thanks for telegram. The general hope expressed here is that the more intelligent body of the citizens of Danedin do not concur with you in pronouncing to be waste of time a discussion by Parliament upon the condition of the colony nnd its financial and industrial outlook.

I repeat, and, to my shame be it said, I caught myself distinctly chuckling as I read it. Was it inherent depravity—the rising of the old Adam, —or was it the evil influence of the age, which parsons tell us is an age given up to scoffing and irreverence ? I cannot tell I Why does the best ot us laugh to see a respectable citizen in pursuit of his hat 1 And, mark you, the glossier the hat and the more dignified the citizen, the heartier you laugh. Suppose a bishop— but the imagination reels under the thought. Had I time I could trace the metaphysical connection between my unhappy chuckle and your hearty laugh, but, unluckily, it cannot be done within the compass o£ a Passing Note.

"About that venerable and nncfcnous book fiend who persecuted you to subscribe for an expensive and worthless book on the strength of your obtaining a place in a pro-' jected 'Lives o£ Eminent Men,'" writes a correspondent, "could you not refuse payment until the latter work is published? IE it is never published (and I doubt whether so large a work could be brought out here, since it is to contain us many biographies as there are eminent fools in Australasia) will not old ■ greybeard have been obtaining money under false pretences 1 If you care to contest the case I will myself, as another of the fools, disburse my share of the costs." Thus far my correspondent. His suggestion is doubtless well meant, but I don't feel in the humour to throw good money after bad. If there were any possibility of getting back the manuscript of that accursed autobiography, which the book fiend —abusing my innocence and playing upon my vanity— contrived to extract from me, I would gladly fork out another pound or two for that, but as for going to law, entering the witness box, and submitting myself for examination —an examination conducted, possibly, by Sir Eobert Stout, — thanks, no I There are reasons which incline me rather to bear the ills I have than fly to others that I know not of! I suggest to my correspondent that Tie should contest the case. As to my bearing a share of the costs, well, we could discuss that later, but I have no hesitation in promising him at once my warmest sympathy and my fervent prayers for his success.

I have two other letters on this same painful subject, a subject which, strange to say, in each case the writer seems to find highly amusiDg. I can't say that I have myself been particularly struck by thu humorous aspect of. my calamity. But in a case like this everything depends on one's poiDt of view. As Rochefoucauld remarks, " There is something not altogether displeasing to us in the misfortunes of even our dearest friends." Without further comment, I append these mock-sympathetic epistles: — Revehed Civis, —That man who did you (I name not myself) ie connection with the so-called " Australasian Men of the Time" deserves all the cash he can get for his cleverness—of which observe the various points : — (1) Ho has no settled place of abode. Please address General Post Office. You can inquire about him only through the police, and by exposing your own gullibility. (2) He has a secretary. Who, except an eminently respectable and honest man, ever had a secretary? Besides, the yonng man had something subduing about him. You could not be flippant or mean in his presence. (3) The young man's chief (and, I believe, father) plays on your worst foible—vanity. That he should direct the shaft to point shows consummate cunning. i' 4) If you should chance to be modest, he pricks the sides of your self-love, by showing lives of other " eminent men." If A. B. and 0. £te in, are you to be left out ? (5) Knowing how much delight there is in maundering about self—he encourages you to be diffuse. Brevity is no object—" Give all the information you can." .... . (6) When he calls with his ultimatum he knows you will be bo prostrate with shame and wounded vanity that you will offer no resistance. Not only will you subscribe to his infernal art j DublicatiDD, but you will do so quietly. Every j creat general miscalculates Bomewbere. This ono did so in forgetting that Oivis might shriek inprint.-Yours, DIDDtEr , Mx Dear Civis,—Till lately my sense of your perfection had been a little painful. Now that I find you can occasionally be an idiot like ot&er

folks, I have a maoh higher opinion of yon. I, too, have been the victim of that Davil-on-two-sticks, the venerable gentleman who wanted biographies of eminent men. I was to write my biography—as fully as possible, stating any facts I might consider of interest in the lives of my father and two grandfathers. I cannot claim a European reputation; but it seemed to me eminently reasonable that Australasia should require to know all that concerned the life of so eminent a man as myself. All the same I was coy. There were no facts worth mentioning in my life. It was humdrum and uneventful. Let him go to Mr Fish, Mr Joubert; they could give him something ! worth read ing. Oh, dear, no! The Diable Boiteux would take no denial. I must unroof myself for tha edification of Australasia; and to direct and stimulate me he placed in my hand a sheaf of autobiographies ha had already in hand — from learned professors, heads of schools, secretaries of education boards, lawyers, M.H.R.'s, D.D.'s, LL.D. ( s, &c, &c, all personal friends of my own, about whom I thought I knew everything. I assure you those autobiographies entertained, instructed and astonished me. They were, as Le Diablo had requested, fullabout the length of a Bigned artiole in the Encyc. Brit.,—say, of that on Sir Isaao Newton. They reoorded the parentage, education, virtues, honours, honorary degrees and why conferred, &c, &0., of their eminent writers. Stimulated by such examples, is it necessary to say that I was tempted— foil —l wrote my biography; born vrhen and where, educated in what public school, came to New Zealand when, profession what—these bare facts (upon my honour!) no more—in all about the very smallest unsigned article in the " Britannica." I have the satisfaction of knowing that he would not advance mine as a sample biography. By and bye camo the devil with his art treasures. I conversed with him for a quarter of an hour, looked through tho valuable engravings, then courteously showed him the door, but did not subscribe. " I now await the publication of " Eminent Men of the Times," which, having saved £9 on the art treasnres, I intend to buy. What a book of fools for the drawing room table !" Have yon," Civis," my boy, calculated how much really goo i srt literature you rnigbfc have bought for that £9—a handsome tct, for instance, of Raskin's Modern Painters, or Stones of Venice 1 Why did you not call tha Missus to negotiate with old Boiteux? Shs would have routed him. —Yours, A Fellow-feeleh.

Two brand-new £3000 dredges, designed by their owners and makers to scoop up the Paotolian sands of the swift Kawarau, lie dereliot at their moorings, nobod;? being able to extract an ounce of useful work out of either of them. This fact speaks well for Otago engineering, doesn't it? In. each case, apparently, the steam power was calculated for a dredge working in still water, whereas the Kawarau runs like a mill race and puts a strain on the buckets similar to that which [an nndershot wheel would encounter if caused to rotate against the stream. The sapient directors are now putting in new and bigger boilers, but meanwhile the shareholders are having a bad time. Shares on which 5s had been paid up were sold in a Dunedin auction room the other day at Is. I have received from the Wakatipu region a lamentable ditty by the " local poet" bewailing these facts, and setting forth in limping metre the mechanical defects of the dredges. This is how it begins :

Oh ! there is Mr Sparrow, a man of high

renown, To supply thsm all with dredges he cams up

from tha town. A dredpra ha soon got launched, and all by human power, And down tha river he did go at full twenty yards au hour. By way of apology, tho author remarks: "These lines may not bear comparison with the immortal works of the poet Stenhouse, but an iron bucket dredge creaking and groaning and labouring under its load of slime and dirt, from the river's bed can hardly be regarded as a source of poetic inspiration or a thing calculated to evoke' the spirit's clarion call.'" Very true; —we won't look for poetic inspiration, but do we even get scientific accuracy ? Read this: Tha waehdirt is lifted by locomotive power, And to do a minute's work it just takes them near an hour. The engine is not strong enough, tho boxes-are too small; Tho buckets are by halE too big, and the pump won't work at all; Tho fine gold all gets washed away, tha atones are caved instead. 'Twould break tho human heart of man though it were made of load ! 'Oh, now just drop your anchor, the company don't annoy, And qniotly take a leeaon from our bold Sew Hoy. Ju3t draw your braina togoiher and at once revise your plan; Don't let yourselves ba bsaten by a common Ohinaman. Something of exaggeration here, I fancy, coapled -with a desire to promote the interests of the Sew Hoy Big Beach Company. Things can't be quite so bad as the Wakatipu poet makes out, nor can it be necessary that the engineer, whom he irreverently calls " old Sparrow " — Should start from scratch and build tha dredge anew. Let him "bust" the new boiler first, at any rate. I see no reason why Kawarau dredging should not yet turn out a success,—no reason except human stupidity > against which even the gods fight in vain. The Paotolian sands are there all right, arid some way ought to be found of scooping them up. Cms-