CURRENT LONDON TOPICS

Taranaki Daily News, 27 January 1934, Page 14 (Supplement)

CURRENT LONDON TOPICS

re-opening of parliament IMPRESSIVE CEREMONIES. disarmament discussions. London, Nov. 9. The re-opening of Parliament on Tuesday was more impressive than informative. A very full and eager House waited for ministerial statements on policy which, when delivered, were found to contain little which has not already received publication. The Chancellor of the Exchequer’s announcement regarding the breakdown of the war debt discussions had been fully anticipated by the Press a day before, though some satisfaction was exhibited by the knowledge that the next half yearly token payment is to be made in paper dollars and not even in silver. At the present rate of dollar depreciation such payment will not be heavy by Christmas. As for the big debate on disarmament, the most important service it rendered was to prove how impossible it will be to make the issues of peace and arms reduction into questions of party policy.. The whole House was in unison in its sincerity on that score, and the report of the debate should make useful reading in Germany and other countries. In view of the rumoured dissensions among various groups of the National coalition it was refreshing to hear the whole-hearted approval which the rank -and file of the Conservative party gave to Sir John Simon’s lucid report of his Government s efforts at Geneva. Paris To-day.

I was talking yesterday to a friend just back from Paris. He drew a very gloomy picture of the conditions prevailing in the French capital. Politically, everyone seems to be frightened of they don’t quite know what. Socially, the capital has lost all its old-time gaiety. There are no English there, and there. are no Americans. Almost the only foreigners are German Jews driven out of their own country by Hitlerite persecution. Some of these refugees were men of considerable wealth in BerUn; but they have been lucky, indeed, if they have been able to bring much money away with them. For the rest, prices in Paris keep on soaring higher and higher without any cause whatever. My friend told me that every time he came over to England he brought with him two empty portmanteaux, taking them back after each trip filled with such commodities as he could buy over here that were not liable to heavy , duty on the other side of the Channel. Rival Practitioners.

It is a strange world, my masters! Harley Street and Wimpole Street, the West End neighbourhood where medical specialists pitch their professional tents, are nowadays infested by not only beggars, who make sympathetic appeal to the wealthy sick, but by an even more subtle genre of social parasites. Vendors of lucky charms make these two famous streets their happy-hunting grounds. The idea is that people who are ill enough to want to consult a specialist, particularly a surgical one, are in just the right frame of mind for. superstitious appeal. If they encounter the charm-seller before their consultation, they purchase a mascot to propitiate the medical verdict. If they meet the mascot-hawker after they have seen the specialist, they are equally disposed to invest in a little charm for luck whether the verdict has been good or bad. The pathetic point is that such a meeting in that neighbourhood impresses the victims as a coincidence.

Piquant Situation. » The Home Office’s decision to test whether the Duke of Atholl has brought himself within the meshes of the law in connection with his recent venture creates a piquant situation. His Grace and Sir John Gilmour, the Home Secretary, are old friends both personally and politically, and are “Bardie” and “Jack” to each other. Both are large landowners in Scotland. Both were members of the Coalition Government, the Duke as Lord Chamberlain, and Sir John as a Junior Lord of the Treasury. At the famous Carlton Club meeting, which torpedoed the Coalition, they both supported their leader, Sir Austen Chamberlain, in opposing breaking with Mr. Lloyd George. In company with the late Earls of Balfour and Birkenhead, they were amongst the dissident Ministers who signed the manifesto of protest. It is doubtful whether even a prosecution would affect their friendship. Anyway it will only prove how evenly the present Home Secretary holds the scales of justice.

Mr. Maxton and the Premier. As a reminder that the Prime Minister and Mr. Maxton were once on better terms than they are to-day, a friend tells me a story which is, at any rate, new to me. Mr. Maxton went to spend a week-end at Lossiemouth. On the Saturday his host suggested a stroll, and, before they got home, they, had cover,ed 25 miles. . Next day the experience was repeated, and Mr. Maxton, who is no athlete, barely survived the ordeal. When he returned home a friend asked him how he enjoyed himself. “Oh, fine,” replied Mr. Maxton, “but next time I go for a week-end, I want it to be with Philip Snowden.”

Princess Royal’s Operation. Though the sudden announcement of the Princess Royal’s operation for appendicitis took London generally by surprise, it was not quite unexpected as far as intimates qf the royal family and the Court were concerned. The Princess has not been in her usual good health for some time, and was known to hunting folk that indisposition was keeping her out of the saddle. If all goes well now, as may be reasonably hoped, the Princess. Royal being probably the most robust and healthy of all the King’s children, she will no doubt resume her former hunting interests and activities in due course. It was unfortunate that the operation, which was performed by Sir Stanley Hewett, the King’s surgeonapothecary since 1914, should take place the very day their Majesties were opening the new National Library, but before that ceremony was due the King had received personal assurances as to the royal patient’s condition from Lord Dawson of Penn. The Princess Royal is 36, two years younger than the Duke of York. Lucky One.

Just at the moment the young King of Siam is having a rather anxious time in his own kingdom. But he will no doubt face his trouble with the sangfroid of an Old Etonian and the spirit of a young .gunner. And he certainly had one bit of luck before he came into his crown heritage. After leaving Eton, where juniors regarded him with awed sympathy as the alleged proprietor of a harem, he passed through Woolwich, and was duly gazetted as an artillery subaltern. He. joined that branch of the gunners’ arm of which Mr. Kipling sings as “first among the women and amazin’ first in war.” When the War broke out in August, 1914, he was at Aidershot, attached to L battery, and taking his regular turn at duty. To his disgust and annoyance, the War Office vetoed any idea of a royal Prince of Siam appearing as a British artilleryman in France. What happened to L battery, quite early on at Nery, is now history. The battery and every officer in it were mopped up.

New York’s New Boss. America’s second citizen is not the Vice-President but the Mayor of New York. He comes easily next to the tenant of the White House. Eighteen thousand police have just safeguarded his. election. The two protagonists, Tammany Hall’s candidate being really not in the running, were Mr. Henry La Guarda, a half-Italian son of an Army bandmaster, and Mr. Joseph McKeC, a school master who starts his meetings revival fashion with a prayer, and is accordingly known as “Holy Joe.” The tide of New York feeling was dead against the latter, however, who is a Democrat and President Roosevelt’s horse. Mr. La Guarda, who commanded an" air squadron during the War and dropped propaganda bombs on the Austrians, has romped home. He is a trombone virtuoso in private life, and, as befits the son of a man who was poisoned by bully beef, stands for “clean politics.”

History Repeats Itself. Lord Beaverbrook has constituted himself the mouthpiece of Conservative Die Hards, who regard the National party as a profound mistake, and desire above all things to get rid of Mr. Baldwin and return to orthodox party politics. How far this attitude ignores the impressive national gesture against party politicians at the last general election may be a matter of opinion. But history is repeating itself. Lord Beaverbrook is playing now, against Mr. Baldwin and the National- Coalition, the same role that he did formerly, in support of Mr. Baldwin, against L.G. and the post-War Coalition. What will be the ultimate verdict of history, I wonder, as to the wisdom or otherwise of the latter’s overthrow ? The existence of the present Coalition seems to vindicate the earlier one, and, had it not been torpedoed, we •might never have seen a Socialist Ministry sitting in the House of Commons. Safety of Air Travel.

Though air travel makes big strides in popularity, it cannot yet be called a popular habit, and many people still think of it as extremely risky. This is partly due, no doubt, to the frequency of R.A.F. accidents, though these are almost invariably a result of aerial manoeuvres which bear no relation at all to ordinary civilian flying. One thing is certain and beyond any argument: flying is a far safer pursuit to-day than motoring. Last year six people were hurt in civil air mishaps—one to every halfmillion miles flown. In the same period there was a casualty for every 60,000 miles motored. But perhaps the best criterion of all is how Lloyd’s regards the risks of passenger flight. If you are flying anywhere by British air liners, and wish to insure your life for £l,OOO, you can cover the whole day at a cost of about Is—the same rate, in fact, as for a railway journey. G.B.S. Again.

We are shortly to have the Macdona Players in a new play by GJ3.S. It is a political satire in two acts, and Mr. Shaw has given it the significant title “On the Rocks.” Though only a twoact play, it will occupy over three hours in the presentation, which suggests that the Shavian statesman who will figure in Mr. Shaw’s Downing Street setting will all have quite a lot to. say. It is sure to be well worth seeing, and probably still more worth reading in. printed form, especially if Mr. Shaw has composed the usual preface. A preface to “On the Rocks” ought to give us a synopsis of Mr. Shaw’s views about postWar politics and finance in general. But some of Mr. Shaw’s oldest and firmest admirers feel a pang of real regret that he will persist with the propaganda side of his dramatic mission, and does not amuse himself and indulge us by writing another “Arms and the Man.” Film of the Future.

Mr. H. G. Wells is the latest recruit to the talkies. The film possibilities of his book, “The Shape of Things to Come,” have attracted the attention of a London producer, and Mr. Wells has been persuaded to undertake a scenario .of that work for studio purposes. In this enterprise the author is up against earlier explorers, notably the wonderful German film, “Metropolis,” which roused such popular interest a few years ago. But Mr. Wells is never second at prophetic vision, and will probably give us something quite remarkably impressive. I understand that he will not merely adapt his book to film purposes, but will create a film vision of the unfathomed future on original lines, peculiarly suited to the medium in which he will be working. Future generations may find amusement in reviving some of these futurist films, and contrasting prophecy with accomplished fact. Real Thing.

What far more pretentious writers .have signally failed to do, Mr. Sidney Rogerson has most, effectively done. His “Twelve Days” is merely a plain imvamished account of a battalion s routine on the Somme during a brief fortnight, but as a War book it is both more fascinating, ' and much more valuable history, than all the emotional operettas turned out by long-haired temporary gentlemen who aim to paint 1914-18 in terms of a waxworks chamber of horrors. After reading it one feels moved to quote Prince Hal’s comment to Falstaff, and apply it to the authors of the “bestseller” War books—‘jSee how a plain tale will put thee dowff!” “Twelve Days” will vividly recreate, for any man who served in the fighting line, the events and atmosphere of those unforgettable nights. It will tell the post-War reader what the Great. War was really like. Coming to it, after books of the accepted War genre, is like exchanging a permy dreadful for Caesar’s Commentaries. Believe me, Caesar is the-, more enthralling. Carrying On.

In the Army, as ex-service men remember, the great thing was to carry on. Whether the enemy had blown half the front line sky high, scuppered the day’s rations, or was massing for a big attack, the slogan was “Carry on.” How faithfully some of our 1914-18 warriors are still living up to that simple credo of the company sergeant-major may be judged from the fact that in London a flourishing Chair Club exists. It has existed for long enough, but does not advertise. Its members are wounded tommies of the Great War who have to move about in invalid chairs. But the club strictly limits eligibility to those chairs propelled by hand or foot not by any artificial energy. It is open to all ranks, commissioned or otherwise, ana holds regular week-end outings. London to Brighton is done well under the eight-and-a-half hours’ walking record. Some men have done over a hundred miles in’a day.

Palace of Forgetfulness. At the new centralised Lost Property Office in Baker Street there are twentyfive counter-clerks, and every one is kept fairly busy attending to London’s victims of absent-mindedness. On an average about a thousand articles a day, Sundays and Bank Holidays specially included, are left about by Londoners, a grand total of over three hundred and sixty thousand per annum. The fines collected on these, when they are reclaimed by the owners, must amount to quite a respectable total in themselves. There is usually a long queue waiting outside the Lost Property Office every morning—a queue whose contrasted personality and calling would have given Mr. Holmes, and his friend Dr. Watson endless material for detective speculation in the old days. Umbrellas, sticks, coats and gloves make up the majority of “lost” things, but there are some superaphasiacs who forget their bicycles and even their false teeth.