THE COMMON ROUND.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 19000, 24 October 1923, Page 2

THE COMMON ROUND.

By Waif a beg. “Work apace, apace, apace, apace; Honest labour bears a lovely face; Hey, nonny, iionuy I hey, nonny !” —Dekker. “Freedom. hand in hand with labour, VVulketh strong and brave.” —Whittier These edifying reflections may be qualified by Burke’s dictum’ that “they who always labour can have no true judgment,’’—which is but a prosy variant of “All work, with no play, makes Jack a dull boy ” On Monday, with the laudable notiqn of eschewing dulness and cultivating true judgment, we downed tools and honoured Labour Uav by abstaining from labour. —unless wo happened to belong to the classes (such as railway, tramway-, and hotel employees) whose unseasonable lot is to minister to the requirements of holiday-makers. But Monday is over—vanished like Hans Broitmann’s “harty,"—and there is nothing left for it but to count the days to Christmas and incidentally- do a little work.

It was good, if is always good, to watch the children playing on the beach, and pensively to indulge in those retrospective thoughts “which do often Mo too deop for tears.” Where arc the children who disported themselves on that same shore on the first Labour Day? labouring, most of them, in one way or another, no doubt; and lot us bone that amid their toil they are able to sing a cheery . “Hey. nonny. nonny !” Coming hack to town, on. a car overcrowded with juvenile humanity, I had to keep incessant watch and ward; for tho keen business end of a chubby urchin’s spade was close to mv face all the way. But it was a happy, if rather tired, company. Young and old alike rose superior to peevishness. On a public holiday one oven refrains from complaints about over- < vowding. Overcrowding, did I eay? Peccavi; let mo promptly withdraw the offending word before I am censured bv tho City Council : and let the withdrawal he accompanied by bumble apologies to Ur Shacklock, who recently assured the local community that they had no conception of the meaning of “over-crowding.” 'File sapient observations are worthy of reproduction .Mention has been made of overcrowding. In passing I would just like to say that you don’t know what overcrowding i«. Not even on your Roslyn or Maori Hill cars do you have overcrowding in Dunedin. You can easily visualise the profits from the cars, as actually they consist of tho fares from the passengers who pro standing. In future, when one is hanging to the strap, the very provision of which (according to unreasonable folk) is an admission of overcrowding, it will be very comforting to reflect that one represents the profits of the concern, whereas the lazy person who occupies a seat is merely paying expenses,— an unprofitable citizen. Councillors, sitting in state beside the driver, presumably represent what radical economists used to term the unearned increment.

There are many things which I am glad that I am not. (The wording of the sentence may be indefensible, but it shall stand.) I am glad, for instance, that 1 am not controller of the weather. the unreasonableness, inconsistency, and ingratitude of mortals would break my heart. Man never is, but always to be blest.” At tbo beginning of last week people were exclaiming against the wintry snap. Well, the complaint was natural enough, as human naturalness goes; but now we get a spell of seasonable warm weather, and "Beastly hot. isn’t it? - ’ is the perverse salutation one encounters in the street. Hot? —wait and see what heat is 1 “It’s as hot as Hell.” once remarked Byron’s friend, Trelawney, who was a lover of cold. The poet-peer, oppositely inclined, retorted —"I hope Hell will bo a lot hotter than this ” Gruosomoness and comicality are sometimes unexpectedly blended. —as in the following passage in a confession: — I, George Ayre, hereby confess buying from the chemist a bottle of chloroform while in a depressed state of mind. I had a lot of financial worry and business trouble, and had the misforfunte of losing the girl I was engaged to after giving up all my own enjoyment going with her for six years and fer her sake. There is a naive candour in the culprit’s reflection that ho gave up all his own enjoyment -when he became engaged to a girl, going with her for six years, for her sake. What a gorgeous courtship it must have been I •

Childhood's antipathy to sermons is innate or instinctive: so at least wo are assured by a preacher, the Rev. Basil Bourchier. With amazing boldness this experienced observer declares that “it has often been observed that children, when they are being christened, remain perfectly quiet and docile until, in the final exhortation of the service, the minister is directed to say to the godparents, ‘You shall call upon this child to hear sermons.’ That order is received with much lamentation. Moreover, it is prophetic.” Dr Arthur Shadwel! on the “good old times'' to which some soft-headed, ill-in-structed sentimentalists cast back longing eyes On hundred years ago there were no railways, no cheap locomotion at all, no macadamised roads, no good paring even in London, no gas, no sewage or refuse disposal, no workmen's clubs or institutes, no cheap literature or free libraries, no general factory Acta, no limitation of hours (in 1819 wages in Manchester were da a week for a la-hours’ day), no free schools or public education, hardly any parks, playgrounds, and places of entertainment except the public-house, sanitation and water supply were rudimentary, a largo part of the population lived in cellar dwellings in a state of indescribable filth and overcrowding. All this, and much more, was before the advent of Free Trade and the development of the “capitalist system.” And yet we are told there has been no improvement, Someone complained the other that more money is being spent on the horces than on education; in the Budget of 1816 out of a total supply of £30,434,000, £21,606,000 was for the Forces, and nothing at all for education. Is episcopal control a (hing of the past in Englanff? One might suppose so, judging by the grotesque account of “something new’’ in religious services. “Band items, popular hymns, Scripture reading, and prayers were sandwiched in between moving pictures; smoking and conversation were allowed, and the rector, the Rev. Mr Woolcomhe, delivered his address while sitting on a table. He was loudly cheered." Fools may have cheered, but angels must have wept. Anglicanism may sometimes bo a thought too staid, hut this sort ol thing—faugh ! There was a charming item in the O.D.T.’s “Sixty Years Ago’’ reproductions on Saturday last:— Arrival of tlio Aldinga with the \ English Mails. London, August 26. The Paris Pressc states that a. marriage between Queen Victoria and the ci-.Kmg of Portugal is contemplated. The study of Victorian memoirs is’ one of my trivial hubbies; indeed, 1 rather pride myself on an extensive acquaintance with that not very important hold of literature. But this bygone rumour of (lie good Queen’s second nuptials was deliciously new to me. In the autumn of 1863 “the Widow at Windsor” had not completed the second year of her bereavement, and she was still nursing her grief and cherishing the memory of her departed Consort with pathetically worshipful rites. But the light-hearted Parisian quidnuncs ware busy with their irresponsible gossip. The “ex-King of Por : tugal" would he cousin Ferdinand, —a sort of dowager-King, if the term is permissible (which it isn’t). Complimentary presentations are at least as frequent as in pre-war times, but there is one shape which they never assume nowadays. Kulogistic eloquence is as happy as ever, but it no longer circles round the bestowal of—sovereign cases. What haa all those once useful trinkets? Have’They WJwn jjnelted down in utilitarian fashion? 'Or are they preserved for the purpose of helping to illustrate tWjncaning of the fabled “golden age’’ to the rising generation? Anyhow, they have vanished from the light of day, like ihc precious coins which they occasionally contained.