PASSING NOTES.

Otago Witness, Issue 3882, 7 August 1928, Page 3

PASSING NOTES.

(From Saturday’s Otago Daily Times.)

After a whole week wherein to discuss and digest the Tunney-Heeney fight, details and result, we may find time to feel a little ashamed. Not of Heeney, the New Zealander who for reward fought a bigger man than himself and did his best; we have no responsibility for Heeney. It is our own selves that we may be ashamed of, —for allowing this gratuitous horror to interest us. Don’t deny me the word t: horror ”; I may qualify it presently; but for the moment let us see what may be said in its justification. This fight was not a struggle with a footpad, or a burglar, or a murderer, a struggle in which, as Edgar Wallace or John Buchan would contrive it, the miscreant is felled and “ put to sleep ” by a blow r on the point of the -chin, apparently the vulnerable spot. Nothing of that. Nor was this l|ght the solution of a personal quarrel. Nothing of that. - Before addressing

themselves to the business of knocking each other to pieces, Tunney and Heeney shook hands, and with this friendly preface fell to, —each smiting the other with his uttermost might, till one of them was “ knocked out ” in ruinous defeat, g sping, strengthless, helpless. They were paid to do it, and 40,000 people paid to see it done. Without invoking the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, we may put a question or two. How does the brutality of a prize-fight square with the sentiment we call humanity,—or with any sane system of morals’ It certainly does not square with British law, for since 186,3 prize-fights have been illegal.

Within the law, however, is boxing, “ the noble art of self-defence.” More power to it! But let me hasten to qualify some things said above. In face of gratuitous and unnecessary suffering lam the S.P.C.A., —nothing less! And yet I am compelled to admire in British prize-fighting British pluck and endurance. When Tom Sayers, the English boxer, met in the ring the Benicia Bov, America’s champion heavyweight, he stood his ground and fought it out with one arm, his other arm disabled early in the fray. All England was thrilled. Men of literary name and mark have helped in compiling the annals of the Ring. For one example, George Henry Borrow, author of “ The Bible in Spain,” “ Lavengro,” “ Romany Rye,” and other books; for another, Hazlitt, not well remembered to-day though of distinction as a man of letters, and though we find Robert Louis Stevenson saying, “We are mighty fine fellows, but we cannot write like William Hazlitt.” The story o', a fight between Bill Neate and the Gas-man as told with gusto by Hazlitt is literature, —yet a horror.

Take a few specimen sentences:— Neate made a tremendous lunge at the Gas-man, and hit him full in the face. It was doubtful whether he would fall backwards or forwards; h hung suspended for a second or two, and then fell back, throwing his hands in the air, -and with his face lifted_ up to the sky. I never saw anything more terrific than his aspect just before he fell. All traces of life, of natural expression, were gone from him. His face was like a human skull, a death’s head, spouting blood. The eyes were filled with blood, the nose streamed with blood-, the mouth gaped blood. He was not like an actu..l man, but like a preternatural, spectral appearance, or like one of the figures in Dante’s “ Inferno.” Yet he fought on after this for several rounds. . . . The Gas-man, beaten in the end, was “ the bravest man alive.” Anyone who chooses may say the same of Heeney. I shall not quarrel with him.

The appointment of the Archbishop of York, Dr Lang, to Canterbury in succession to Dr Davidson is not without interest to Scottish Otago, since both men are from North of Tweed. An Amurath an Amurath succeeds, —Scot following Scot in the chief seat of the Anglican synagogue, and one of them 1 rn and brought up a Presbyterian! Which of the two? Dr Lang, as the papers are reminding us. The letter I am about to bring in here has no direct bearing on the Lang appointment; its relationship may be-called “ collateral ” —

Dear “ Civis,”—There is a story of a Bishop who, making a pastoral tour in Otago, found himself overtaken by darkness when miles from a village. He sought hospitality at the first house he came to —the homestead of a farmer in a fairly large way. He

was made welcome, and thv-y spent a pleasant evening over a glass of hot toddy, for the winter n.ght was chill and the cry of Prohibition for Parsons yet unknown. When they parted next day his host said, “ Well, goodbye, sir. I’ve enjoyed your visit very much, and if you are ever up this way again I hope you’ll look in. I’d be glad to do anything I could for you.” “Thank you, Mr Jones,” said the Bishop; “that is very kind. I have to take confirmations here next Easter; might I ask you to put me up then? If you could lend me a pair of horses ard a driver for these dreadful roads I should be most grateful.” “ Certainly,” said the host, “ I’ll do it with pleasure. Easter, you said? Yes, I’ll remember. Good-bye, and keep to the left at the ford.” At Easter the Bishop reappeared. His host seemed a little distrait; however, a place was set -and dinner brought in. “ Ah, Mr Jones, and here I am again. I trust you have not forgotten your promise to drive me round the district? ” “ I’m very sorry,” said the farmer, “ but i am afraid I can’t. All my horses are turned out on the hills for the winter. There’s only the old mare in, and she’s not fit for a long trip.” “Really, Mr Jones, this is very awkward; I quite understood you expected me. I made it clear that I was making an Easter visitation.” “Oh, yes, si., and I expected you then, and wondered why you didn’t come. The team was waiting for you.” “What do you mean? This is Easter, and here I am.” “Easter? This is Easter? Why, I’m very sorry to have put you to inconvenience, but I can’t get horses now. I had them ready four months ago. I always thought Easter was the 25th of December.”

It remains to add that the name of “ Mr Jones ” was not Jones but something beginning with Mac-; also that Mac- was a good Presbyterian, more or less.

People who neglect Hansard know not what they are missing. The play’s the thing, and Parliament in an election ‘year is as good as a play. I except the Legislative Council. Here we are among the mild-eyed melancholy lotus-eaters.

In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemeth always afternoon. That is the Council, a sanhedrim of sages, most of them old officials who have served the State in this or that useful function, and now may sit at ease, for them the burly burly done. I lift my hat to the Council. Sane and cool, political wisdom is here at its highest. But at its lowest in the House, this session. Members of the House are acutely aware that this is election year and make their speeches with an eye to the hustings. A No Confidence motion, with a foreseen minority to vote for it—Mr H. A. Holland and his baker’s dozen—is electioneering pure and simple. We commiserate a much-enduring Government; we are invited to believe them a set of hardened villains. Every political crime is alleged against them, from pitch and toss to manslaughter.

There is sensitiveness and apprehension on the subject of election pledges. How is a candidate on the stump to escape pledging himself to - T ote for what he doesn’t believe in? The fear of Pussyfoot is before their eyes. In the House hon. members reproach each other with weakness in the past; e.g.—

Mr Lysnab.—What hinders Mr Coates to-day is that he has so many of his party tied up. Mr Speaker.—l must ask the honourable member to refer to the Prime Minister by his official title. Mr Lysnab.—l say, Sir, he has too many of his party tied up—they are not free. They come to him tied. An Hon Member. —Were you tied? Mb Lysnab.— l was hot tied, and I

would not come into this House if I V?F e be tied. It is impossible for a House to intelligently deal with the affairs of this Dominion if a great number of the members come in tied.

Mr J R. Hamilton.—Who is tied? Lysnab.—You came in tied ? eck crop and tied by the hind leg. The honourable member is one who comes in tied. If he came with fpee feet, and not with his hind leg tied, he would be all right; but he is tied.

Mr J. R. Hamilton.—Are not the fellows on the other side tied? Mr Lysnab.-—Yes; some of them are - .1 think they are tied too much, especially the extreme Labour men. Not only are they tied, but they hand in their resignations for their committees to use. There is too much of this tying.

It is not my business to suggest a i emedy; but I think I can see a way out. Let the election speech take this turn: Ladies and gentlemen, I regard a pledge as a sacred obligation?— (Applause.) In my view a public man is bound to keep his election pledges.— (Cheers.) Well, ladies and gentlemen, I have already come under a most solemn pledge.—(Sensation.) I have pledged myself in this election to make no pledge on any subject whatever.— (Groans, and confusion, amid which the speaker descends from the stump.)” Votes may be lost, but the candidate will have saved his own soul.

From Hawera again:— Dear “ Civis,” —Thanks for translating the school motto, te Infirmioribus succurrendo fortior.” But is it true chat one does become stronger by he pi g the weaker? Doee he not Help the weaker because he is stronger —not to become stronger? Can the words mean also “Stronger for (the duty of) helping the weaker? ” and thus illustrate one of the intended results of higher education? Parent. Latin gerund-grinding is not for this column, nor are questions of datives and S at T S ’i 1 have alread .Y Englished the school motto, “ Fortior succurrendo infirmionbus —“Stronger by helping rim,! ; ker - , For a better version, if required, apply to the nearest dominie. _____ Civis.