PASSING NOTES.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 11923, 22 December 1900, Page 2

PASSING NOTES.

Granted that our affairs in. South Africa are not going as well as we could wish, it would be the merest ingratitude to grumble. A year ago the Boers, cock-a--hoop and ironical, were firing Christmas puddings into our British town of Ladysmith, besieged and starving; this Christmas the Boers have not a town to their name in which to eat their own Christmas dinner. It is true that they will not yet allow us to eat ours in peace; but what would you have? William the Norman in his conquest of England had a much longer job, and a tougher, than the Boers have provided us. The victory of Hastings was not the end of it, but only the beginning. For five years in guerilla warfare the Eng- j lish withstood him; and in those days there were no pom-poms or magazine rifles to give the defence superiority over the attack. Moreover, in area England, Wales, I and Scotland ore little move than half as j big as the Boer States. Of Hercward the j Wake and his resistance—heroic or insane j as you choose to regard it—l don't suppose Do Wet ever heard ;he is playing the same part, but unconsciously. If Do Wet knew hjs English history he would remember that Hereward's obstinacy was but a useless and expensive kicking against the pricks. In j the end William gathered him in ; and so, | assuredly, soon or late will Kitchener gather . in De Wet. The only satisfaction that De Wet can hope from making the event late ] instead of soon is the shedding of more blood. May Heaven confound him! The senti- i nients proper to the season—a desire for ( peace on earth and goodwill towards men — j lead me to pray devoutly that De Wet may spend his Christmas a prisoner in a British camp. Lord Kitchener is " inactive," says the cables ; and he is inactive for reasons good. The racing and chasing into which the dying struggle lias resolved itself needs on our side mounted troops as lightly equipped, as independent of commissariat, as the Boers themselves. These, for the moment, we don't possess. The fact is not to our credit, perhaps ; but that is another story, consideration of which may come later. In the meantime a fact it is, and hence our only policy is a masterly inaction whilst j guerilla bands career up and down the ' country capturing here a convoy, there a weak outpost, pretty much at their will. In the current " Nineteenth Century" Lieutenant-colonel A'Court gives a very vivid picture of British infantry in movement against mounted Boers. I quote a few sentences: Suppose that information comes in that the Boers are holding a position across our line : of advance; a reconnaissance goes out to clear j up the situation; it is probably ambuscaded on the way by an invisible too, and receives bullets from all sides without being able to see anything. Reinforcements arrive, the Boer 1 snipers are found and driven back, and the reconnaissance arrives within artillery range of the position when it receives a heavy shell fire. Scouts press on and reports are eoflectcd, [ when it is found that the position extends so j many miles right and left; but no one can i say whether the Boers aro 500 or 5000 in position, since nothing has been seen of the enemy except the tails of a few ponies disappearing , round the shoulder of a hill. The general arrives with his army, pressing on within effec- I tive artillery range, when our guns begin to bombard the trenches tli'it are visible. Telescopes are sweeping the ii'eid; there is not a. sign of a. Boer, not a single head peeping out of the trenches, not a sign of life, save that perhaps a mile or two behind the enemy's trenches his big guns begin to answer ours, opening on our columns of infantry as they pass certain points that have been carefully measured. Up goes the. balloon, and if t!:e Boers lay close before they lie closer now. The ' report comes down from the balloon and tells us little; officers gallop from point to point; a few try to obtain a nearer vie>v, and only then a sheaf of bullets comes singing a warning note. What is wanted, as we see at once, is mounted infantry to slip round the flanks. Lacking this essential arm, the general must send his infantry straight ahead in a costly front attack, to find, before they can get in with the bayonet, that the Boers are j away on their ponies, to begin da capo a ! few miles further back. This perhaps is old doctrine, but in the present stage of the war i, s more than ever in point. Lord Kitchener waited long in the Soudan before l>e swooped and struck ; lie will have grace, let us hope, to wait just as long as may be necessary in the Transvaal. I have received more than one spiteful protest against the praise bestowed upon our troopers at the front. It matters nothing that praise has come to them from all quarters, rind from the highest quarters —that Lord Roberts himself bears witness to the superlative excellence of their soldiering. But detraction will not suffer it; lam recommended, to treat " our boys " for "swelled head," and to propose as their regimental motto the legend " Coek-a--doodle-d o"! A proper punishment for the writer of a screed of this kind just to hand were to print it as it is—in' its own spelling and its own grammar. Respect for the linotype alone restrains me. For my own part I am for praising our South Africa contingents to the utmost, measure of their worth and a little beyond it. You can't spoil a soldier by overpraise. Get him to think well of himself, of his officers, of his regiment and its record—that is the way to mnke him the finest kind of soldier. The Scottish prayer, " Lord gi"e us a gude conceit o' oorsel's" ought to be prayed at the head of every army every day.' Stories illustrating military self-conceit are, thank Heaven, never wanting to the British service. For example, when in 1895 the Emperor Nicholas was made Colonel-in-chief of the Scots Greys, Colonel Welby, : commanding, mentioned the fact to his sol- - dier-servant: " Donald, have you heard ! that the new Emperor of Russia has just ' been appointed Colone!-in-cliief of the r'egi- '' ment?" "Indeed, sir," wns the veply, ! "it's a very gran' thing for him." Then after a few moments' silence, Donald in- 1 rjuircd, " Beg pardon, sir, but will he be ' able to keep baith places?'' To match this, ] which is Scotch, here is anothei a,s good, and this is Irish. It is an authentic re- ! port of a railway platform interview be- ' tween Lord Minto, Governor-general of < Canada, and an old Irish soldier: : "Your Ixcellency"—with a militaiy salute— 1 "my name is Sullivan. I'm riprisinting the ' 18th Koval Oirish, sorr." " Oh, indeed; I am J glad to meet you, Mr Sullivan." said his Excel- ' lency. "Do yon know Lord Rohjrts, sorr?" ' " Oh, yes, I know Lord Roberts very well." ' " I wini wid him to Kandahar, sorr." " Did ' you, indeed? Inm glad to know that." "Yes, '' sorr, and Lord Roberts said, and I think yi'H ' say its roight, too, if ye wanted to have ivry- ' thing perfectly secure and roight and toight ! and tidy, ye wants to havo a good ould Oirish rigiment at yere back." ' ■' All aboard," cried the conductor. ■ " Whist! " said the riprisintitwe of the Royal i Oirish: "Mr Minto, de ye know how the Dootehmins foiclit? " " How do they fin-lit? " ] " They foights behoind the recks, and'the En»lish foighta behoind the Oirisli." This is what the French call esprit-de- 1 corps. We haven't a compendious name ' for it, but we have the tiling, and a bad ] day will it be for the Empire when itperishes. r Unhappy is the housewife who at this * festive season goes in search of domestic * help. She may search, but she will not J find. There are girls out of place, it is v true; indeed this is the time of the year at which a great many girls always take 1' good care to be out of place. But, if you t want to hire one of them—no, thank you! c —not till "after the Jiolidays." As long p (is the holidays last you may shift for yourself—brush your own boots, cook your' own t Christmas dinner, wash up your own dishes t or leave them unwashed; no girl will mine to your assistance for either love or money c until "after the holidays." There lire '' people who blame for these miseries Mr ' Bnrclav, M.H.R., but that is a mistake. The influence of Mr Barclay, M.H.R., in this mutter as in others may be accounted infinitesimal. The real source and origin of the trouble is—general prosperity. "We are r all getting too well off. servant girls included. It is true that servants of a kind c can generally be had for rich houses, where * several are kept, where high wages are * paid. But even in rich hmises the con- I ditions of service are changing. A writer ? in a London paper, giving an account of *: Uw meetino; of the British Association at '' Bradford thus reports the conversation of "I two society dames seated near him:— n "What is the world coming to?" said the C first. " Actually my nwids wanted to como * hero to-night!" "Humph! sniffed her .2i friond; " those detestable board schools are mining servant girls. The other day I wrote to a- Gorvant I was engaging, &nd told her pbo would hay.2 to help in tho lau.ud\}. Sue r-jp'W «'

by "post: " Madam,—l am like Brooke's Soap: I never wash clothes." " It's just like their impudence," replied the first lady. " I was engaging a girl with a good character, and I wrote and asked her to send me her photo. Sho replied: ■ Madam,—l am very sorry, but tho only photograph I have of myself is in | tights." llf in the overcrowded old country such ! things can be, what may wo expect in , New Zealand! The servant girl difficulty . has a good deal to do with the declining : birth-rate. Marriage itself is discouraged. Speaking for myself, I have no doubt that T should have married Mrs 0. whatever the domestic probabilities ; nor have I any doubt [ that Mrs C. would have married me in ,' the same large spirit of faith. A marriage that is made in heaven is bound to eventuate ;on earth. But. from a mundane point of ■ view, it would have been money in the | pockets of both of us to have remained I single. That is now spilt milk, of course, ' and I don't repent. But, as things are, with domestic servants in their present impracticable mood, doing so little and exact- | ing so much, I don't see how Mrs C. and j I are going to pay our dredging calls unless !we give up housekeeping, asphyxiate the I babies and go into cheap lodgings at the Grand. Dear Civis, —A correspondent in last week's "Passing Notes" said that Civis had "fallen into the soup. ' Can you explain (lie origin .of this slang phrase? Hos the following story ; about Lord Wolseley anything to do with it? I Dinner was being served to the soldiers, and orderlies hurried backwards and forwards with steaming pails of soup. Lord Wolseley stopped 1 one of them. The man was at attention in a, I moment. " Remove the lid." No sooner said j than done. "Lot me taste it." But, plaze i yer •" " Let me tnste it, I say." And taste jit he did. "Disgraceful! Tastes like nothing lin the world but dish water." " Plaze yer honor." gasped the man, " and so it is." A London paner heads this story " Lord Wolseley in the Soup."—l am, etc., A Reader. That there is soup in this story and soup in the phrase to be explained is evidently an accidental coincidence. As to the origin of the phrase to "fall into the soup" I can give no light; belter inquire of the London music halls. It is usually from music hall songs that new slang takes its rise—for example, "Not for Joseph," which, 20 years ago, had n universal vogue, find "there's 'air" which may be heard in any London street to-daj. 'Here I am i reminded of a correspondent 'who some time ! bnck wns inquiring for the origin of the saving that "life is not all beer and ! skittles." I couldn't help him; but he now [ informs me that he has found in the "Pickwick Pnr>ers wlmt he wanted. Mr Pickwick and Sam Weller are commenting on the rollicking life of certain debtors' in the Fleet Prison: "It strikes me, Sam," said Mr Pickwick, leaning over the iron-rail nt the stair-hec.d, " that imprisonment for debt is scarcely any punishment at all." "Think not, sir?" inquired Mr Weller. " You see how these fellows drink and smoke and roar." replied Mr Pickwick. " It's quite impossible that they can mind it much." " Ah. that's .just the wevy thins, sir," rejoined Snm, " they don't mind it; it's a regular holiday to them—all porter mid skettles. It's the t'other vuns ns gets done ovei vith this sort of thing; them down-hearted fellows as can't svig avay at the beer, nor play skettlos neither; them as vould pay if they could, and gets low by being boxed up." It is from this passage in the Dickens classic that the saving "lifn is not all beer and skittles" must have been developed, says my correspondent. All right; so Jet it be; —which point settled, I suppose he is lmppy.