PASSING NOTES

Otago Daily Times, Issue 27080, 14 May 1949, Page 4

PASSING NOTES

A radio message from London says that the Kings first public engagement since his illness will be the inauguration of "Colonial Month.” London’s most famous instituffons are to join in making known to the people at home what is happening in the outlying paddocks. Museums will display colonial books and records, animals will be seen at the zoo, plants and plant products will be featured at Kew Gardens. The dominions are evidently excluded from this commendable educational effort, which is a pity. There is plenty of scope. When overseas, a visitor from anywhere in the Pacific must not be alarmed if introduced as “ from the land of the moa, the kangaroo and other strange birds”’ A life-sized model or picture of a takahe would dispel the misapprehensions of those who have read a popular dictionary ("pronouncing, explanatory, etymological, with compound phrases, technical terms in use in the arts and sciences, colloquialisms, full appendices and copiously illustrated”). It has: "Notornis, a genus of gigantic ralline birds . . . which have within recent years become (presumably) extinct in New Zealand, etc.” Some would manage a sufficient smattering of Grqek to know that the name means “bird of the south.” Another page of the dictionary explains that “ ralline ” refers to wading birds. But the rest of the description must have made the exploits of Dr Orbell and company unduly heroic.

The London exhibition is not the first in its field. The New Zealand naturalist who was introduced into the writings of Mark Twain did much to spread knowledge of the flora and fauna of Australia and New Zealand. This cultivated young man, whose interest in his subject amounted to a" passion, confided that, the kangaroo had pockets and carried its young in them when it couldn’t get apples; that the only difference between a dingo and a dodo was that neither of them barked, otherwise they were just the same; the only songbird was the larrikin, protected by Government; there were two' kinds of lyres, not spelt the same, one dying out and the other thickening up; the bellbird was the best friend of the weary and thirsty tramp, who knew that where this bird was there was water, and he went somewhere else. This authority's moa rivals the dictionary notornis. It was 13ft high and could step over a man. The Natives rode it at 40 miles an hour, covering 400 miles at a stretch. It was still in existence when railways were introduced; still in existence and carrying the mails. Railways began with the same time table as they have now—two expresses a week; time, 20 miles an hour. The company exterminated the moa to get the mails. The centre piece in the English “ Colonial Month ” is to be a typical African hut in which the temperature and humidity will be arranged to produce the moist heat of the jungle. Visitors will experience the atmosphere of the colony. So perhaps it is as well after all that the dominions are not to be included. How could a month of New Zealand weather be represented by an exhibit? One possibility might be a revolving stage with a dozen different compartments with climate ranging from snow to steam. Visitors could be cautioned not to take any one as mere than momentarily typical. In fact, the whole might have displayed above it the words of Will Rogers concerning Oklahoma: “If you don’t like our weather, wait a minute.”

Those who have driven along the north-south highway only in ordinary conditions may be pardoned if they continue to refer to “ the Kilmog.” But any who came south to Dunedin through midnight moonlight one evening this week and saw the familiar peak wrapped in an unbroken' white mantle from tip to roadway know that there is a Fujiyama in Otago. Enjoyment, of the unusual scene was somewhat, disorganised by the necessity of giving sudden and violent attention to the vagaries of several groups of wandering stock. Sheep and cows on the main roads at night are becoming more common and are an unjustified menace to both limb and limousine. Possibly the animals are also in some danger. It is no easy thing for one person to perform the combined functions of King, Prime Minister and party leader. Evidence is to be found in Mr Truman's uneasy occupancy of the White House. The average American’s- “ sympathy with the under dog ” may have provided enough sentimental support to swing the election in his favour. Mr Truman fought a remarkably courageous campaign almost single-handed. He expended himself to the limit. Toward the end of the effort he made it known that he was unable to broadcast further speeches as backers had deserted him and funds had run out. Popular sympathy with a good fighter who has many powers arrayed against him is natural. Bui it is a poor guide as to who is the right man to lead a great nation at a time when leadership requires the strength and ability of a genius. As it was, if a few thousand votes in Ohio and Illinois had gone the other way there would have been a different President. Many, no doubt including Mr Truman himself, are now wondering whether he has what it takes to handle the problems before him. He split his party and alienated Southerners when ne promised to give the negroes their rights. He promised, most impractically, continued large profits to farmers and increased purchasing power to workers, and has disappointed both. The colossal increase in taxation has made the expectant beneficiaries realise that what is to be given to them is first to be taken from them. Eight months after the election it now appears that' promised huge extensions of social security are economically undesirable; the negroes are no better off; Labour laws cannot be repealed without maiming industry: farming profits cannot be guaranteed without increased burden on other sections of the people. A perplexed President faces a brick wall and seeks desperately for some means by which to give body to the good intentions which made up his announced domestic policy. Sentimentality and selfishness may lead a man to the Government, but they can't make him think. A little democracy is a dangerous thing.

That a " man of the soil ” should give the address at the University capping ceremony instead of an academic professional is unusual enough to call for comment. Whether it was an improvement or not will be decided elsewhere. Professors have their uses in spite of the popular libels. Could it have been a student who said that a professor is a man who must talk fifty minutes? It is reported that a professor dreamt that he was lecturing—and woke up to find that he was. Even the academic worm can turn, as in a well-remembered instance. The professor’s morning lecture was timed to end just wheq the cafeteria queue grew longer every moment. A few minutes’ detention meant a long delay for lunch. If the lecturer lacked terminal facilities he was given reminders by rustling of paper, banging of books and stamping of feet, crescendo. One noon he stopped, looked the class over until there was silence, and then said: "Just a. moment, if you please, I’have a few more pearls to cast.”

Ur W. R. Inge was chided by a friend because he was not satisfied to be a pillar in the Church and aspired to be a column in the press. One of the “ gloomy Dean's ” happiest, occupations was pointing out errors that had been long accepted as truth. As far as I know Dean Inge never pointed out that one of fhe greatest essays on Truth begins with a misstatement. When Bacon writes: “What is truth? said jesting Pilate: and would not stay for an answer,” he completely misrepresents the governor’s attitude. The expert who gave us our calender made a big mistake in the date at which he commenced it, so that we have the curious need of saying that Christ was born some years “ before Christ.” The three best-known Christian creeds are all misnamed. The "Apostles' Creed ” had nothing to do with the apostles, the “ Nicene Creed ” had nothing to do with the Council of Nicea, and the ‘‘Athanasian Creed " had nothing to do with Athanasius. Civts.