PATER’S CHATS WITH THE BOYS.

Otago Witness, Issue 3618, 17 July 1923, Page 60

PATER’S CHATS WITH THE BOYS.

THE DOWNS'. Oil! the Downs high to the cool sky; And the feel of the sun-warmed moss; And each cardoon, like a full moon, Fairy-spun of the thistle floss; And the beech grove, and wood-dove, And the trail where the shepherds pass; And the lark’s song, and the wing-song, And the scent of the parching grass! —-John Galsworthy. ***** TOBY—A MONGREL. His head's all wrong and his legs aren't right, His mouth gives deg-men quite a fright; His nose is pink, and his pedigree’s poor— In fact, he’s a mongrel, nothing more. His mother was—well, a trifle “mixed,” And his father’s identity can’t he fixed; But he’s all that’s best of a hundred breeds, And his heart’s as “thorough” as any dog needs. Alsatians, pugs, and Pekingese—- “ Pot-hunting prigs,” he deems all these ; Airedales, bulldogs, terriers trim—A little bit better, but they can't match him. For a purebred dog’s got one poor talent, But he's got ’em all, has my little gallant, .So let all the show-dogs queue for their prizes, Scented and powdered, in classes and size Old Toby's the pluck of a dozen of these. He’d take ’em along with his breakfast with ease. He cost half a crown, and he’s little and rough, But he’ll stick to his master ; he's true as he’s tough. The damp, friendly rub of a cold, pink nose, The wide-mouthed grin that his master knows— They're worth all the prizes the other dogs win, Though they’re sleek as a seal and as proud as sin. But Toby gets old and his foot grows slow, And he’ll soon be gone where the real dogs go; And I do know this, that, wherever it be, That’s the place that will do for me! ***** THE REAL CALL OF THE EAST. "Boy!” That is the Call of the East. Pass through the gateway of Suez and you will hear it ringing loud and clear until you reach Sail Francisco. From the rising to the setting cf the sun, and until the going down of the moon, it is upon the lips of thousands of white men, and Indians, Chinese, Japanese, Mai ays, Papuans, and a hundred other shades of brown, yellow, and black give heed to it. It is a magic word, which is pronounced full-tliroatedly on a note of command and with a drawl. It gives its user a godlike sensation. It is the incantation which raises the bottle imp to do your bidding. "Boy!” And your boots are laced. “Boy!” And the green blinds fall to shut out the white blaze of the noonday sun. “Boy!” And bare feet run pit-a-pat or sandals clickety-clop, bringing a brown statue to do your bidding. Tt is amazing (writes “One Who Has Lived There” in an English paper) how we whites, who grumble at fog and cold,

and rain, lose our energy when we find the perpetual warmth of our heart's desire. We become as relaxed ,;a ml as full of whims as a spoilt child. A man may clean his own shoes, he his own valet, even cook his own breakfast, in England, but when he goes East he becomes a Caliph, who must be waited upon hard and foot. The pen must he put into Ins fingers ere he writes. The path of life must be cleared of tiresome obstructions. ‘'Boy !” “Failing an immediate answer. you must repeat with rapidly growing impatience and a righteous wrath welling up in you, “Where is that (assorted) boy?” I dined in London with a China coastal captain. Our waitress was a princess in disguise—she made that clear by her bearing—and a Russian duke, presumably, mused upon our impudence in ordering liqueurs. My host's cheeks puffed out with wrath. “Anyway,” lie snapped, “I'm going out again next week!” He was returning to his kingdom. I knew the word his tongue v, as hungry tor. Two claps of the hands and “Boy !” in a bellow,, and my captain, in truth, will be in command again. FORTUNES IN BIRDS’ NESTS, Far up in the great limestone caves of North Birneo are found (writes the author of “British North Borneo”) glued to the sides in hundreds of thousands, the edible birds’-nests so loved by Chinese epicures for making soup. The nests are built by a species of cavehaunting swift which breeds in colonies. They are formed not, as the natives believe, from the sea foam, but from a glutinous substance produced from the large salivary glands of the birds themSCiVCS. There are two kinds of nests, the white and the black. The white nests are clean and semi-transparent, the fine threads of which they arc interwoven being net unlike those of a shredded wheat cake. The black nests are discoloured, and have grass and feathers mixed with them. The black nests predominate, hut the white, from which the best soup is made, fetch from 10 to 15 times as much as the others. The bird caves are in reality the interior of hills which in the course of ages have become hollowed into a series of caverns and chambers many hundreds of feet in height. Overhead are jagged openings through which shafts of light dimly penetrate. Under foot are deposits of guano often 30:t deep. The birds share their haunt with myriads of bats; there is a kind of Box and Cox understanding between the two, the birds occupying the caves by night and tile bats by day. The right to collect the nests is vested in certain families of natives, and is handed down from generation to generation. The collection, which takes place twice a year, is a perilous proceeding, and can be undertaken only by skilled men who have been bred to the work. From a rattan staging stretched across the roof of the cave flimsy rattan ladders, sometimes (09ft in length, are let down. The collector descends into the gloom armed with a four-pronged spear to which a lighted candle is attached. Swaving dizzily in mid-air and clinging with one*”hand to his frail support, with deft stabs be detaches the nests, which are removed from the spear-head by a second man and placed in a basket. Once collected, the nests are packed in strips of tree bark and are sold by auction at the nearest Government station. The bidding is made entirely by the Chinese traders, who export the nests to Hongkong.

The receipts from the auction are usually divided into three shares, one for the hereditary owners, one for the collectors, and one for the Government. In a good year the amount realised reaches over £25,000.