PASSING NOTES.

Otago Witness, Issue 3510, 21 June 1921, Page 3

PASSING NOTES.

(From Saturday’s Daily Time*.) Since the days when a menacing comet was met and warned off by a Papal allocution—if I am asked for the reference, it can he had, though I haven't it about me, —we have changed our notions on the subject of comets. Not that even yet anybody understands what they arc, their whence, their whither, and their why. But we no longer think them harbingers of evil, portending strife of nations and the like. It we fear them, it is because a foreigner rushing from out the unknown and running amok within the domestic circle of the sun and his planets might break something. 1 have a correspondent who tells me that the comet of 1860 something, which showed itself in the Southern Hemisphere unexpectedly and full-grown, was first observed “in a violet sky after sunset lying full length, parallel to the horizon.” It suggested to him a big shark that he had once seen “lazily nosing a breadbarrel hoop under the bows of a ship becalmed in the tropics. • Suppose that comet had struck the earth—it looked near enough.” Once again, in Dunedin, and at mid-day, this veracious observer “saw a comet rounding the sun as a steamer rounds a buoy. All Princes street stood a-gaze. If that comet had fallen into the sun, our earth would have shrivelled like a moth in flame. We are now awaiting a comet with an hvphenated German name, the Pons-Weinecke, which is to cross the earth’s path on June 26. If the earth happens to be theTe at the time, as it may, we are to expect a display of meteoric fireworks, —merely that. But some meteors that blaze through our atmosphere strike the earth as boulders of mass and weight. A comet is supposed to be a loose aggregate of such boulders, big awl little. fnnigine a million million tons of stellar rubbish dumped into the Atlantic. It would be Noah’s flood over again, and worse.” No doubt, —together with a general falling in of leases. There would he compensations,—tiro financial stringency relieved, the mining strike ended, the Irish question settled once for all. In view of such contingencies we perceive the wisdom of Mr Asquith's “Wait and See.” Wellington telegram: Tho Minister of Eternal Affairs (the Hon. Tv P. Lee) proposes to visit Samoa about the end of the month with tho Under-Sfceretary of External Affairs. Nothing could be happier than this combination —the Minister of Eternal Affairs

and the Under-Secretary of External Affairs; Samoan affairs fall under both. Geographically, Samoa is external to New Zealand; politically, its affairs are likely to be as e ternally troublesome as the affairs of Ireland. Destiny and the. doctrine of mandates have made Samoa the Ireland of the Pacific. Dominated by an alien race, victim of _gfn imperious and costly bureaucracy, separated from its “seat of Government ” by a thousand leagues of ocean, across which any appeal for redress of grievances must go, Samoa presents all the elements of a first-class “ Irish question.” Indeed the Samoan case is the stronger of the two. New Zealand did not go to Samoa as the English went to Ireland—by invitation of the Pope, a functionary whom the native Irish respect, bat by mandate obtained from persons unknown to the Samoans and residing on the other side of the world. It is part of the Irish grievance that Dublin is 292 miles from Westminster, and—as a Sinn Fein Jeremiah lamented in the Daily Times the other day—if Dublin wants a new drain it has to go to Westminster for it. No doubt; — and if Dunedin wanted a new drainage system it would have to go to Wellington for it, which is half as far again. Edinburgh, too, 396 miles from Westminster, — Edinburgh has the same grievance but has not yet discovered it. Samoa, more deeply wronged than all the rest, is twenty degrees of latitude from Wellington —of latitude, respecting which the Irish schoolboy under examination said, “We haven't any latitude in Ireland; the British Government does not allow any;”—-beating the classic howler, “ Latitude is where the sun rises; longitude is where he sets.” If there is any one spot on the earth’s surface to which, more than to another, the principle of selfdetermination applies, that spot is jjff moa. I use the term “spot” because on a matter of principle geographical bigness or smallness counts for nothing. If Dublin has a yight to self-determination, so has Edinburgh, and, a fortiori, Dunedin. So far as we and the Samoans are concerned, these questions, never ending still beginning, are remitted to the .Minister cf Eternal Affairs. Writing from Lyttelton—at undue length, with an unnecessary use of “ the big, big D,” and an imperfect sense of humour—“ Master Mariner ” wants to know why it should lie thought worthy of note that HALS. Chatham" went to sea from Dunedin without the help of a pilot. Commander Thomas said he would take HALS. Chatham out Himself.” Why the capital H? Is lie a deity, a naval officer, or just a British sailor? What if he did take HALS. Chatham from Dunedin wharf to sea, and even supposing her draught was 17ft 6in. Holy sailor ! —there is nothing to write home about in a simple stunt like that. I suppose it was daylight and nearly high water. I myself have taken steamers drawing 18ft up to Dunecjin at 2 a.m. in August S.W. gale and snowing to beat the band, and there was no reception by Dot’s Little Folk or the Y.M.O.A. It was simply a merchantman’s job The merchant service can do lots better than the navy, as they have often proved; but they don’t want and don’t expect a lot of fools toadying to them. Peace, perturbed spirit! less strong language ; and let me smooth your ruffled feathers. No one in this column shall disparage the British merchant seaman ; he is our glory and our pride, no less, — except when he is on strike. We uphold the merchant captain; yet, incredible though it seem, it has happened that a merchant captain taking his ship from Dunedin wharf to the Heads has stuck | midway and come little short of stopping ! our vent altogether. It falls within the navy job to navigate uncharted seas—in and out of the reefs and atolls of the Pacific, in the Persian Gulf, m China waters, and elsewhere. But between Dunedin wharf and Dunedin Heads are 15 miles of channel, tortuous and narrow. The navigating officer of HALS. Chatham, a newcomer, might have preferred a pilot and inglorious safety. But he abode by service traditions and “took her out ' himeelf.”

But this is Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner, and he still holds me with his glittering eye:

Yesterday 11.M.5. Chatham left Lyttelton at 1 _ p.m, A very desperate manoeuvre. Yo gods; no piiot a ia Dunedin. She moved so slow that I accepted an invitation from a pal, and after 10 minutes’ absence she was just rounding the moles. Either of the captains of the Wahine or Maori would have shamed the naval johnnie. In their ease from the time the last rope is cast off till the ship is outside the moles and on her course to Godley Head is two minutes.—really a fine performance; yet it is their job and there is no paper reference to it. They are only merchantmen. But, cheer-oh, “ Civis,” —I once before rebuked you about, a “ jury-rudder,” and gave you a French definition for same. But you were cynical. - Those experienced mariners, the captains of the Wahine and Maori, who make the Cape Horn passage between Lyttelton and Wellington every 24 hours, doubtless round the Lyttelton moles with neatness and shape a, course for Godley Head with decision. We may leave them alone in their glory. Your “ French, definition ” of “ jurv-rudder ” —was it from “ jnrer ” to swear, —something to swear at? Ingenious but absurd. Nobody afloat or ashore knows the derivation of " juryrudder ” and “jury-mast,” any more t.Uan of “dog watch.” Dear “Civis,” —Don’t you think that in this age politeness is, in general, conspicuous by its absence? Which, remifids me of a story I heard recently which I think is not a chestnut. By the way? can you tell me the origin of the term “chestnut” for an antiquated anecdote? But for ray story. A clergyman in one of cur churches has noticed that an oVI lady in the congregation invariably bows whenever mention of the Devil occurs during the service. Being curious to discover the reason, he took an opportunity of asking the old lady why she makes this „obeisance. “Well, parson.” she said, “one never can tell; and politeness costs nothing.” Politeness costs a little care and thought, implies something of self-re-spect, something of respect for others, something of regard for the decencies of life; it comes naturally of breeding and education; but, on the whole, is of less value than the trouble it costs. So think the reckless hustlers growing up around us. On women chiefly the blame lies. The younger women of to-day are not merely content to accept less than their due, but would compete in roughness with the men. Quip for quip, slang for slang. That is their idea of the smart, and the “up-to-date.” Young men play football, rolling in the mud with their legs in tho air; —why should not young women do the same? As reported in Thursday’s Daily Times, “the girls of Sydney are determined to play football,” and, in public meeting assembled, have discussed the question of costume. A lady in a distant corner rose determinedly. “I think,” she said, “that we should have jerseys and trousers, like the boys do. —(Shrieks of approval.) We can’t get around like the men if we go in bloomers”. —(Discussion suspended until the approving uproar ceased.) Eastern Suburbs delegate: I tKink if wo have them short we can wear longer stockings. We must not mind the public. There are sure to bo some wowsers. I’m for trousers. I’m for the short stunt. —(Wild cheers.) If this kind of thing spreads upward—a downward spreading is impossible, lower deep there cannot be—the last lingering trace of what used to be called “manners” will have vanished from among us. And yet the Wykeham motto holds: “Manners makyth men.” The old lady who bowed to the Devil was carrying politeness far. She may have learned from Shakespeare that “ the Prince of Darkness is a gentleman.” “Chestnut,” name for a stale anecdote, —what is its origin? asks this correspondent. Our one sufficient oracle on etymologies and the like is the Oxford Dictionary, a work of learning and of labour stupendous, virtually a concordance of English literature. Probably of American origin, this use of “chestnut,” says the Oxford. Numerous explanations, “palpably invented” were given by English newspapers when the word first appeared, 1866-7. But a “plausible account” is suggested by a passage in “Reminiscences of Toole,” 1888. I quote verbatim from the Oxford, which assumes in the reader both patience and intelligence :• “When suddenly from the black boughs of a cork tree ” “A chestnut, Captain, a chestnut.” “Bah, booby, I sav a cork tree.” “A chest nut,” reiterates Pablo-—“I should know * as well as you,-- having heard you toil the tale these twenty-seven times.” This “plausible account” hardly commends itself. The book cited can have no wide range. However, we must leave it at that. From (Manuka Creek: Dear “Civis ” —Are a man and woman lawfully wedded without a ring being used in the marriage ceremony?

rhe ring is not essential;—nothing ia essential but the contract, duly attested. But without a ring the wife would hardly know herself to be a wife. All antiquity mane a point of the ring in marriage,—nay of two rings, interchanged between the bridegroom and the bride. Shakespeare in “Twelfth Night” makes a priest describe a marriage: A contract o< eternal bond; of love, Confirmed by mutual joinder of your hands, Attested by the holy close of lips, Strengthened by interchangemeDt of your rings; And ail tho ceremony of this compact. Sealed in my function, by my testimony. For a money consideration the Govern* meat of New Zealand will marry you without rings or any other ceremonial adjunct. Tue Puritans, in their day, would have done the same. Wedding rings, relic of pagan superstition, they held in abhorrance. But in equal esteem did they hold Shakespeare and stage plays. By a Puritan ordinance, says Macaulay, playhouses were to be" dismantled, the spectators fined, the actors Whipped at the cart’s tail. Under the Puritans Mr Allan. Wilkie and his company, who this very, week to our great content are giving us “Twelfth X ight ’ and other examples of the Shakespeare drama, must have fared badly. At the very least their feet would have been made fast in tho stocks. Other odds and ends of correspond* ence:— Dear “Civis,” —At Burnside on Wednesday prime ox beef sold at 41s per 1001 b: heifer beef from 32s to 32s 6d; cow beef at. 20s. Bee paragraph in Thun day’s Daily Times. There were three prices for beef at the yards, it soerns, and, 100 per cent, between the extremes. Do the retailers make similar differences? Are there three prices for beef in the shops? Enquire of the nearest butcher. I know notiiing of the subject. That there are three or more qualities in beef when it comes to table 1 am well aware, but buying the beef is not in my department. There are profiteers in every trade, no doubt: also there are honest men.—prom Waimate : Dear “Givis,”—Our local journal ha 3 the following paragraph : “Described bv the Mayor, Mr F. • Nash, as ‘well worth sending anywhere in Now Zealand,’ a fclaek-and-wh.no drawing bv Mr M‘Comas attracted much attention at the Winter Show. The picture, a skilful effort, depicted Uncle Sam yarning easily with John Buli. ‘They tell me, John, that you and F are 'drifting into war,’ says Jonathan with a broad grin at tun humour of the suggestion overspreading his face. John Bull falls hack in his chair with a guffaw that would ho heard a long distance off, judging by the expression.” Punch or M'Comas? Punch undoubtedly. Mr M‘Comas bad copied, skilfully and usefully it seems, a recent Punch cartoon, in which Mr Punch had adapted to his -purpose—skilfully and usefully, he also—the -‘Bonne Histoire” picture of long established fame;—two French priests, one of them doubled up with laughter as the other t- lls him “une bonne histoire”—a good story. But not every country mayor could b-- expected to know that, nor even every country subeditor. Civis.