ALIEN'S" LETTER FROM ENGLAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 3005, 18 October 1911, Page 75

ALIEN'S" LETTER FROM ENGLAND.

A LULL.

September 1. A radiant summer is passing into a golden autumn which, cooled by passing thunderstorms that leave the air fresh, has revived the people as well as the land. That golddusted serenity of an autumn day has something that neither spring nor summer gives—a mellowing of light, a ripening of fruitage; and the flowers, now that the summer is departed, fewer in number and more subdued in fragrance, pour their shortening life into vivid colouring. Already this year the leaves are falling thickly as in October —an effect of the drought, which, to the practical housewife, is not so much a calamity as that butter is 18d a pound. Poetry "and strikes are wide apart, and there aire many in England at the present moment who would agree with the unpoetical tradesman who, when asked by a travelling companion if he did' not think the woids, " Break, break, break on thy cold grey sands, O sea!" infinitely sad, replied that he thought "Broke, broke broke" sadder. And broke, broke, is. the burden of many hopes that came in with the season of 19-11. Controversies and unrest charge the air, and a happy issue out of our labour afflictions is not yet. More strikes are threatened, and among them ai general coal strike, which is being engineered to take place in the winter Should this transpire, the present burdens* of those of limited means wiU be increased. „

One lesson the great strike just passed through has/taught—how dependent the people of the United Kingdom are on the means of internal and external communication. Another eye-opener is the menace to society of the " hooligan." One of the officers of the garrison sent to Liverpool during, the railway strike said that they were nearly a fortnight endeavouring to hold back " a soum the like of which Paris never saw in her worst days. They are not strikers; they have no regular calling or trade. They are simply hooligans who will pillage, murder, burn, or riot with hardly any provocation." To have seen the orgies of the French Revolution without the excuse and provocation repeated in English cities and Welsh villages has been an experience not likely to be forgotten. The upheaval of brutality and destructiveness has been a revelation. One observer says that the hooligans who set the barbaric example in Liver pool were of the Irish quarter—the notorious Scotland road district, one of the strongholds of Home Rule! South Wales followed, with other colliery districts, but, Welsh or Irish, the Celtic blood broke loose. The conduct of London during the crisis of the strike was in marked contrast. Despite difficulty all could reach office or home without danger. London was the least affected of any city in the three kingdoms, and although harassed, business went on without intimidation or destruction to property. One savage feature of the riots in Wales was tb.3 anti-Jewish, outbreaks, which continued after the end of the strike had been declared, and necessitated the presence and the action of the military in Bargoed and elsewhere in Monmouth. A wild mob wrecked the premises of Jewish tradesmen and private houses, smashing windows and looting goods. Several jewellers had most of their stock looted, and one jeweller only saved his property by fstanding at the door of his shop with a revolver, threatening to shoot down the first man who attempted to enter. The threat awed the cowardly looters, who left to attack where no harm threatened themselves. Nine shops were demolished in Bargoed alone. The Jewish World, commenting on the Welsh demonstrations, says:

We find it difficult. to speak in measured terms of the abhorrent soeecs of savagery that have h&sn witnessed this week in certain towns of Monmouthshire, Our memory goes back in vain in search of a parallel fox such anti-Jewish excesses in modern England; we can only compare the terrible events to the attacks made on our people in this country in the time of the Crusaders, or, perhaps', more appropriaetely. to .the pogroms with which the pages of Russia's latter-day history have been besmirched. We have no desire to. emphasise unduly the anti-Semitic ''aspect- of. the affair, and we should be very unwilling to believe it to be symptomatic of a general recrudescence d anti-Jewish i feeling in this country. We-are convinced-, of course, that the main motive of the wreckers was the lust for plunder.

The opinions of the LoTd Mayor of Liverpool and magistrates of Manchester and Cardiff agree that hooliganism is a menace to the country. The Lord Mayor of Liverpool said that they won't work. They are no use, but a menace and a nuisance. " I know of no remedy. The laws of the country are too lenient." The Chief Constable of Cardiff advocates the training of the police in the use of the rifle, make them a military police, so that in crises they could act as a substitute for the soldiers.

At the inquiry into the deaths of those who were shot by the military in the recent riots a verdict of justifiable homicide was returned, for it was fully proved that it was done to save theMves of the troops who escorted the prison vans. Now that th© strike storm ils over, the metropolitan police are being granted their well-earned and much-needed leave. Also, in recognition of their arduous services of thi3 year, the pay of the men has been increased two shillings, and the officers according' to their position. The public generally is as pleased as the police at this recognition of their splendid work.

Apart from the rewards of the loyal railwaymen granted by the companies, and the subsca'iptiotns of travellers to show their gratitude for safe arrival at their destinations, some of the large London firme expressed their appreciation of loyal

(Specially Written for tho. Witness Ladies' Page.)

service in a generous manner. Harrods, |of Brompton, paid about 200 drivers, porters, and despatch, clerks, an extra week's wages, and motor-drivers have been given a bonus of £5 each. There is little doing in the women's world in London just now. Society is out of town still, and Parliament is having a holiday. The greatest sensation of the fashion week is the rumour that we are to return to ia modified form of the Victorian fashion, and wear a crinoline, and probably the accompanying curls! For | some time the curls have been appearing in little bunches "here and there in the ! arrangement of the coiffeur, with more or ; less fascinating effect. But the crinoline! j If one could be convinced of anything I where women and dress are concerned it is 1 that the woman of to-day will not wear j la hoop, except the extremists, who go to ] any eccentric lengths or lack of them in skirts. Yet in the autumn fashion notes . here and there are little exclamations of (delight that the straight line and hobbled ankles will disappear and more flowing ' and fuller draperies add grace to the form, j and the "Mrs Noah," of'the toy Noah a Ark, be seen no more in the streets. Some ! even go so far as to prophesy a vogue ! to the modified crinoline and draw attenj tion to the famous Winterhalter group, painted of the Empress Eugenie and her court beauties, and assert that a return 1 to the fashion of flounces and frills and j fichu, pointed bodice, sloping shoulders ! and waist line makes for grace. This ; writer says that it was at an evening " At ' home " that she first saw a return to the j Winterhalter girl in a room crowded with women all <( built " on the straight lines that lack individuality and dignity. Into | the room came .a vision of elegance and ! grace, attired in a gown of old-world de- { sign, showing all the distinctive features of 50 years ago—minus the crinoline. The i frock was of black Chantilly lace made in three deep flounces over soft white satin, j with a fichu of fine black net " slipping off the snowy-white shoulders and fastened ' with a sweet little posy of roses in the I very centre. Perhaps most conspicuous of 1 all features was the prettiest of lace cor- ! sages fashioned with the waistline in its natural place, and having the becoming j point 'back and front." That a modified Winterhalter style —curves and flowing draperies—will once j more be the fashion is certain, for the ,' taboo at court of the tight skirt put it out !of first fashion in England. But what will Queen Mary say to the crinoline? For everyday wear it is not only impracticable, but impossible under existing conditions. How could a crinolined crowd of girls and women use the omnibuses, lifts, tubes, and motor conveyances? The huge hats have had their inconveniences, but these have the upper space in which to adjust their measurements, while la hoop, al though only two yards round, could not, if generally worn, find room in many of the present-day conveyances, and by a busy, active woman in crowded cities like London. But there are diverse opinions. Several actresses who recently wore crino- ! lines in plays of the Victorian period declare the hoop more comfortable than the clinging ekirt, which restricts the movements of the limbs. Mrs Graham Moffat, who in " Bunty Pulls the Strings' j wears the crinolined skirt, says that it is comfortable, allowing easy movement, ! and giving a feeling of being adequately ; dressed, and in her opinion is much more modest than the hobble skirt, which em- ' phasises every movement of the limbs. But | women off the stage, as on it, have not each an alloted space. Even two yards in j circumference is more than every woman on the pavement or in conveyances can command, and the general opinion is that ' the woman of to-day will not confine herself in hoops, j During the season now passed the Maoris , both at the Crystal Palace and at Earl's Court have\surprised many people in Lon- [ don, who were prepared to find savages, and have found instead a people of educaj tion and intelligence, and in some cases of manners superior to their own. Maggie j Papakura. the queen and. guide of -the j Maori village of the White City, in an i interview with a representative of the Daily Chronicle, has given expression to truths concerning the English which shows her powers of observation and reflection, j In speaking of the English men she is J reported as saying: '' There are bad ones I know ; but a good' Englishman is chief ] among men." Maggie says they were bombarded on their first arrival for opinions of England, but with the deliberation of their thoughtful race refused to express an opinion until time had passed in which to form one that could not be entirely superficial, as is the cus- | torn of many travellers. After three i months this daughter of 32 generations of j Maori chiefs has summed up most ac- ' ciurately some of the characteristics of j the English, as displayed in a holiday | crowd, and also in the home. | Before I came I seemed to know England—for I had learned your language, vour history, your geography in my home. 'But how many things I did not know after all-. There ■is the beauty of your country. I have been staying with English neon-la'in Oxfordshire. I hove been to Oxford. How aha.ll I speak of the p&aoaful meadows, the streams, the grey, silent, old buildings! They spoke to Jmy bcn.rt. They were like the dreams of my : girlhood come true>—my girlhocd, when I wandered all alone in the wildr? around my I native village, far away in New Zealand, • with no companions but the trees and bird's. , My mother, though she was of the old school, and knew not ia word of English even to- her death, saw that I should have to know ther ! language of the pakebas, or white folk. She saw that there were some things in your civilisation that were good. So she sent me to an English school. But she did not wish me to forget all that was beautiful in the) old Maori ways a-si tfeoiigxJta fshe WEa a wonderful woman.

What is there in you that is good? Well, y-ou are strong'; you are restless, ambitious, clever, always scheming what you shall do next. You. have wrested the secrets from the earth. You have made the metals your servants. You have brought light. You have driven iaway the tear of darkness. You cannot tell how much that means to a Maori—■ the. fear of the cßaxkneee! I feel it now, eonietimieS' —though with this lovely English, twilight, which we never have at home, there seems to be hardly amy darkness at all.

You ask me what there is that is not good what there is that makes me still glad that I am a Maori? I will tell you something that I was thinking about only this day, for I ami always learning and thinking. I used to believe that ihe> English were, serious —too serious. I have coin© to fancy that they are not serious enough oven: a great many important things. Shall I tell you what cno of them is? It is love.

In England people laugh at love. They make jokes about it. They think that when a boy and girl love one another it is something to simile about. I look around me in this White City, and I see all sorts of young people "flirting." aa you call it._ I go to a dinner party and I hoax marriages being discussed. "Oh, yes, I love him well enough, but I love his money better!" That was a phrase that caught my ear only the other. d«y. It sent a shudder through my whole body. , An a Maori I cannot understood how it is that you make light of this—the most important thing in the life of every man and woman. With us, both love and marriage are sacred things. In our beautiful Maori religion we believe, as perhaps you know, that everything that exists was brought into being by the marriage of the earth and eky. In the beginning they were locked together in a close embrace. They were separated by their children—the god of w>a,r, the god of the winds, and others. But the earth wept at being banished so far off. So the sun was given to light her by day, and the stars to light her by night—and. through these her husband looked down upon her, and the little .white clouds carried his messages of love. Again, there is another thing in which I have to express my disappointment with the English. There is the tendency to hypocrisy. My mother, as an old-school Maori. taught me to be absolutely natural and simpte-hearted. But I go to your At homes," and I find people who have been saying they hate one another a moment Defore throw their arms round each other's recks and tell all sorts cf falsehoods. We Maoris never do that. If we do not like anyone we recognise that there is no need to say so, but we don't make protests of affection. With us, of course, personal likes and dislikes don't count so much as with you. It is .a question of the trite.

Broadly speaking, these disappointing traits of the English character _ar© true also of most civilised communities the world oveT. Even in New Zealand it has been known that women throw their arms round each other's neck and seal their hatred of each other by a kiss. There are even hypocritical lovers and husbands and friends who betray. And all the world over not all those who laugh at l OV e—to the stranger—is the least loving. At all times and everywhere—how goes the verse?— The bnave&t aire the fenderest, The loving are the daring. But, in English society it is bad form to show feeling. " Form." has been set up as an ideal so long that it may by its repression have killed feeling—or, at least, its expression. It (remains a fact that the Englishman would rather be thought cold than lacking in self-restraint.

Ladies in Aeroplanes. In the last issue of Hearth and Home personal accounts are given by the Baroness de Laroche, Mademoiselle Marie Marvingt, and Madame Eranck, each of whom describes her most exciting flight in an aeroplane. The Baroness de Laroche practised for some time, then broke her arm, and afterwards gained her pilot's certificate. In spite of her previous accident she did not lack the nerve to ascend high enough to fly over houses and forests, and to turn three timm. In the presence of the Czar she left St. Petersburg, and flew from there to Ruda-Pesth; and she afterwards ascended at Rouen, and subsequently at Rhe'ims was nearly killed-. But she is enthusiastic in heir admiration of the sport, and will in ail probability try it again. Mademoiselle Marvingt speaks of her experiences as intoxicating. She has had up to now no accident?, but has experienced plenty of trouble from air currents and " pockets." She says the sport is ineciniparable with others, and she is sure it will in time become most popular. " Many of us will perish before then," she &a"ys, " but that prospect will not ■rlfsmay the braver spirits," Madame Fnanck in her account tells that the first time she made an ascent as a passenger a, pips of the radiator burst and scalded her back. She exclaimed'in agony to the pilot, but he did not understand French, so she thumped him until he looked round and saw the steam, and then they planed down in giddv descent. She next took flight with the famous aviator Henry Farman. and slice that has become a professional demonstrator. The first time she essayed to make a public ascent the wind blew too hard, but the spectators were so angry that towards evening, as the wind dropped, madame started off alone on her voyage. After getting clear of the houses and high chimneys a sudden fog came on, and the poor woman lost her way. and finally she descended in a meadow, ■where she was discovered by her husband, together with her business managers, who expected to find her lyingunder her machine. In America there is one woman with a r-'ilot's license. As vet no Englishwoman ha« qualified herself; indeed, the difficulties are such that very few men have obtained a certificate.