PASSING NOTES.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 20708, 4 May 1929, Page 6

PASSING NOTES.

Dead are the tumult and shouting—such as they were. Local body elections are racing away on a receding tide. We may appraise the flotsam and jetsam —a new Council, a new Harbour Board, and a new Hospital Board. Are wo the better off or the worse? We may lick our wounds or rejoice with discretion Itoaction after the ordeal of Wednesday, the battle with the ballot papers, has been inevitable. There was some calling after new blood in the city fatherhood It has been provided in a very modest leavening. Wo may attune our hopes of great municipal fulfilment according to our optimism and experience. Under the impetus of invigorated local authority may we see Dunedin pressing on to municipal perfection. In their professions the many suppliants for our votes may be said to have echoed a variation of Blake’s declaration of faith— I will not cease from mental fight. Nor shall my sword sleep In my hand, Till we have built Jerusalem In this our green and pleasant land. Blessed are they that do nol expect too much. We cannot all have new linoleums. In the composition of our new local body directorates there is ground for confidence that we shall go on muddling through to reasonable purpose In the words of Selden, “ Old friends are best. King James used to call for his old shoes; they were easiest for his feet.” The milkman will call as usual, and the Fire Brigade lake its after noon jaunt. To our new Mayor, congratulations. From coney to ermine is promotion. Says Mr Black: “If a man has any trouble let him come to me as a man, and I shall meet him as a man.” And he that cometh in the guise of a skunk, how shall he be met? Suitably with a disinfectant. Between Jerusalem and drains there may be a hiatus. But next to godliness is cleanliness. One could do with a good deal more of it. Nature plays the washerwoman valiantly, but we dry out rather badly. Take a quiet walk in some of the more central residential areas of the city, old enough to look better. In the absence of traffic the untidiness seems the more noticeable. Like an ignis fatuus is the subs+ance of /Town Planning. There has been added lately an oil area, abutting the harbour. It is at our very front door, offering welcome to our friends. Here might the Amenities and Town Planning Society hold ■ a picnic. Only good could come of it. Mentally depressing is this area garnished by great oil tanks, galvanised iron, unformed streets, and the general merchandise, marking transition from disuse to occupation. Shipping, docks and wharves have their aesthetic value,' their fascination. Why is it that the ap preaches to them are usually so dis couraging? How many years is it since there was anything like a presentable road leading to the waterfront and the altars sacred to the Vuloan and Dredge 222. " All in good time ” we are assured. But we may not live for ever. The public is charged with not taking enough interest in the doings of the Harbour Board. It might take more if it could get nearer the harbour.

Visitors to our country 'arc apt to boggle over some of our native names—trifles like VVaipukurau and Tokomairiro. How curt seem these in comparison with place-names that are a source of tierce national pride to the Welsh I Thereby hangs a recent episode of the House of Commons moved to mirth. Sir Robert Thomas, Inborn! member for Anglesey, is regarded as too serious a politician to be suspected of joking in a parliamentary question. But recently he asked the Postmaster-general for in • formation concerning the status of the postmaster of LlanfairpwllgwyngillgogerchwyrndrobuilllandysiHogogogoch, a village-in his constituency. One likes to read that he was waVmly cheered for his courage. Not to be lost was the opportunity for pleasantry, First of all Colonel Watts-Morgan gravely asked the Minister whether he was aware that the name was wrongly spelt, and Mr Mardy Jones complained severely that twq syllables were out of order. _Sir William Mitchell-Thomson. tin 1 .M.G., essayed tq give the infonnn tiou asked for without coming int f collision with the fearful procession of Welsh syllables that confronted him. But the Opposition hilarious]) L m . ace the music. Where is it? Give the name! ” they cried. being thrice challenged, the Minister bluslungly explained thal It begins with ‘ Llanfair ' and ends 11- • ‘ K°K o ß°ch/ Perhaps with all this influenza about I bad better not says more.” When he explained thal the post master had resigned. Sir Robert Thomas displayed anxiety that tin next man appointed should be able o pronounce the name of the village. ‘ Name it! ” shouted a dozen voices •md Sir Robert smilingly did so with .moat fluency. A final and skittish -query came from Viscount Sanden: "Does it count as one word in a telegram? ’ he asked. The Welsh is one of the most copious languages in the world. It is said to contain at least 80,000 words. As to its sounds, hear Borrow, who is an authority: “ I have to observe that at the will of a master it can be sublimely sonorous, terribly sharp, diabolically guttural and. sibilant, and sweet and harmonious to a remarkable degree, . , . Perhaps in no language but the Welsh could an eel be mentioned in lofty poetry; Lysowen is perfect music,” At that we may leave it. There is a Cambrian Society in Dunedin; its existence enjoins discretion. Recantations are sometimes interesting. There are good historic examples galore even without the famous jf apocryphal “ Eppur si muove " of Galileo. Parliament would be a dull place without its modern instances. The exPremier and present Leader of the Op position in New South Wales possibly easily holds his own for explo’ s of this kind. A recent copy of New South Wales Hansard supplies these examples: . Mr Lang: If what the Premier says is correct— Mr Thorby: You know it is correct. Mr Lang: You are an impudent pup. Who are you talking to? Mr Lang (following the intervention of Mr Speaker): I withdraw and apologise. Three days later another little exchange of compliments: Mr Lang (interrupting Lieuten-ant-colonel Bruxner): You are a liar Mr Speaker: I ask the lion, member to withdraw. Mr Lang; The Minister cannot say that sort of thing about me. ... I withdraw. So the game goes on. On a different footing is the recantation of Sir George Fowlds. He withdraws what lie said about the perfidious southern colleges and their back-door methods of securing grants from the Carnegie Corporation. Sharp educational practice on the part of the Edinburgh of the South! Preposterous! What shall we' send to Sir George Fowlds in recognition of his amende? A hair-shirt for repentance might be suitable, Also an illuminated motto: “Look before you leap!” The King of Beasts is raised in the world and lowered in the scale of estimation in consequence. No longer docs he sit beneath a tree and roar “ Prey come down!” A remarkable series of “ biggnme close-ups ” has established him as a tree-climber. One lion is seen resting on the branch of a tree. Another is actually walking along a bough. The picture of the Lord of the Animal Kingdom poking aboat the branches lacks dignity. What need had the lion of tradition to take to the treetops? There was

refuge provided for meaner denizens of the wild. He reared, the desert re-echoed, and there was a hush in the forest. The monkey shivered on his leafy perch. It can hardly be that the lion has just been found out. Probably he has taken to tree-climbing within our own times as a protest against our disrespect for his privacy. He is a retiring animal. Bui he has his pride. It is hard that he cannot pose carefully upon some frowning rock, in fearful silhouette against the darkening sky, and practice - a few necessary vocal exercises, but someone with a camera or worse must come spying upon his meditations. It makes it difficult for him to keep up the royal reputation. In future, of course, he ~-ill be given an opportunity of climbing for public edification in every up-to-date Zoo. And in future, when we think of getting up a tree out of a, lion’s way, wo had best make sure his Royal Highness has not got there first.

Nothing new under the Sun; Dear Civis, —Have you ever in your researches come upon the name of “ John P. Robinson ?*’ He was a quite notable fellow in his day. I do not know whether you are a believer in the doctrine of reincarnation, but does not th# document 1 enclose suggest possibilities in that direction? The document is an open letter to the ratepayers and householders of Dunedin from a candidate for municipal honours —a masterpiece in its way. And yet it did not do the trick. As for reincarnation, well, let us hope for the best. For Johr P. Robinson consult the Biglow Papers. It was he who said they didn’t know everything down in Judee. Well, It’s a mercy we’ve got folks to tell us The rights and the wrongs of those matters I vow, God sends country lawyers and other wise fellers, To start the world’s team wen It gets In a slough. • For John P Robinson He Sez the world’ll go right—ef he hollers out Gee! Prom “ Yours of the Backblocks ”:— Dear Civis, —A-b, ab. If it is a-b. .ib in the backblocks it is s-t-u-n-n-e-r, stunner, in the cities. With many town children I have met, “ stunner ” is about the only word in their vocabulary. What is its French equivalent? Here’s a coil! Another case of Ned Cuttle aground apparently. "The bearings of this observation lays in the appli cation on >t.’’ Probably " stunner ”is already j> .little archaic among the town boys and girls as a term of appraisement. A number of ..stonishing substitutes have been heard recently. To keep pace with our young people is not easy. Heaven forbid that 1 should suggest the equiva lent at present in favour with the French gamin 1 No doubt it is sufficiently expressive. I have not been abroad lately. Civis.