MIXED PICKLES

Observer, Volume 9, Issue 529, 9 February 1889, Page 9

MIXED PICKLES

Items suitable for insertion under this head are invited from readers in town or country. All offerings must be authenticated by the real name and address of the writer and should reach us not later than 9 a.m. on Tuesday. — A correspondent writes asking us to expose the ways that are dark and the tricks that are vain of the fraudulent employment agent. We are tired of doing so, tired of trying to drive into the heads of an obtuse public that if they will patronise the sharks whose swindles have been laid bare by the Press, not once or twice but times without number, they must take the consequences. A safe rule before consulting any of these' agents ' would be to institute a few enquiries respecting them. The 'bad eggs ' -are pretty well known about town. To both employers and employees we would say : Look before you leap. Our correspondent describes tho modus operandi pursued by one notorious individual. But there is nothing out of the way about it. ' They all do it.' Let us quote : — This man has always a batch of ' dummy Wants ' in the Herald, Waitresses, j lady helps, barmaids, first and spcond cooks, waiters, barmen &c.,&c. When a male or female • oreenhorn ' goes to his den the modus opemnai is & this :— Mr Agent delivers himself thusly— say to a waiter seeking a billet : ' Yes, I want a waiter at 30s. a week and found ; give me your name and address and references as to ability, &c, &c, and I will try to get you the place, but you will have to pay me a fee of 10s.' Nine times out of ten the poor dupe pays it. He calls again and again, and is put off with some plausible excuse or another until finally he tells the victimized one that the situation is filled. If he is asked for a return of the 10s. he replies ' Oh ! that is my fee for services in trying to get you that particular billet, it was no fault" of mine you did not get it ', and so the poor fellow is swindled out of his money. — A game at whist : ' Whose deal is it ?' 'Who dealt last?' ' Ycu ; didn't you ?' ' I don't know.' ' Oh, it's Mr Bs deal.' ' Why, so it is.? ' What's trumps?' ' Diamonds.' ' Diamonds r Well, if I haven't got the avpilled hand.' ' Well, I just haven't got a th ing.' * I never did have quite such awful luck.' ' Whose play is it ?' ' Let me see, what's trumps ?' ' Diamonds.' ' Oh, so it is ; how stupid of me to forget.' ' It's your play.' * Oh, is it ? What led ?' ' Spades.' ' Let me see, now — nm — vm — spades led and diamonds are trumps ?' ' Who took that trick :' 'You mean tinny.' ' O-o-oh ! if you didn't make four ! You are horrid ; Whose deal is it ?' Then they say it all over again. * George,' she said, ' before we were married you weie always bringing me rings and breastpins and vinaigrettes and things like that. Why, don't you ever bring me anything now ?' ' My dear,' replied George, ' did you ever hear of a fisherman feeding bait to a fish he had caught ?' — ' Beg pardon, sir, 1 said a tramp, as he stopped a well-dressed man this side of Mercer, ' but am I heading right for Auckland ?' ' Yea, straight ahead.' * Is there a Eefuge there ?' ' Yes.' 'Ah (with a sigh), I shall probably die there. My spirit is broken and my ambition is gone.' ' Very likely, but they have a nice cemetery out at Waikomiti.' 'If I had five shillings I could keep myself until I could get work, and would not have to ask to be taken into the Refuge,' went on the tramp, watching the face of the well-dressed man carefully. ' But you haven't got five shillings ?' ' Alas, sir, not a copper.' ' Ah, that's a pity. Well, keep right on. You can't miss your road. Auckland's a nice place. There's a lunatic asylum near there, and two or three comfortable cemeteries, besides the Eefuge. Good day.' The well-dressed man walked briskly on, while the tramp shuffled round the corner and picked up his ' mate,' who had been waiting for him. Said the mate : ' Any luck ?' Tramp (gloomily) : ' No. Wouldn't work. We'd better play some other dodge. This is no crowd for sympathy.' —Temperance Item (from an American paper) : A noted Sunday-school worker living in Kansas was asked to talk to the children of a Sunday-school on the subject of temperance. _ He is very earnest in the cause, and wears a bit of blue ribbon as a badge of his principles. Kising before the school he pointed to his bit of blue ribbon and said : ' Now, can any of you children give me a reason why I am not a drunkard ?' There was no reply for a moment ; then a childish Toice in the rear of the room piped out : * Cause this is a prohibition town !' — A rising young Auckland lawyer spent two days and a night, about the beginning of the New Year, over one case, and at the end of that time couldn't tell which side he was on. It was a case of champagne. — A comforting assurance. — Guest : May I ask, Mrs Ycungwife, if you have an opinion on the subject, ' Is Marriage a failure?' She (languishingly) — Well, my experience has been very brief, you know, Mr Flinty, but from a domestic point of view, it is something of a failure. On the other hand, it is a great comfort for a young wife wlio is as fond of society as I am, to know that there is a husband somewhere in the background. :

—I should like to sell you a gimlet,' said a care-worn looking man, aa he walked into an office the other day. ' "We have no use for one, replied the cashier. 'But you should always look into the misty future,' went on the friend, demurely. ' You may want to screw some boards togetner gome time. The old-fashioned method of driving the screws in with a hammer is pernicious, as it deteriorates the tenacity of the fangs of the screws, as it were.' ' Nothing to-day, sir. ' The gimlet acts as a corkscrew — ' I don't want it.' ' It may be used as a tack hammer, a cigar holder, and also a toothbrush.' ' I don't want it.' 'It has an eraser, a pen, an ink-stand, a table for computing compound interest and a lunch-box attachment.' • I can't help it ; I don't want it.' ' I know you don't. You're one of those mean men that won't buy a gimlet unles3 it has a restaurant, a trip to England, and an Italian opera company attached. You're tho kind of a man who would live near an elecfcrio light to save a gas i bill.' And the weary canvasser walked out with hia mental plunge on the perpendicular. IN MANY TONGUES. O Belle Marie, Charmante ausfi, If thouconldst sco My ]ove parfait, Oh, wouldst thon, s-ay Grleichgultig be ? Formosa tv, Ich bin so blue, So echwach and sad ; One smile I know, Ex animo, Would make me glad. Puolla fine. _ ! One kias of thine j Would so dolight < Thy slave soutnis, 'Twonld dwell with ir.o ewigkeit. Mais done cv. tout, So kalt bist dv, Most frigid phe. Mehercle : It's so r Then say it slow, Thou'rt married? Oui'r — Says the Dunedin S/or'.x London correspondent :— I was speaking to a young follow in the Colonial Office the other day, who gave me some interesting facts, or rather related to me some entertaining gossip anent the new antipodean viceroys. It seems that Lord Knntsford regrets now that he did not send Lord Onslow to Queensland, and give you Sir Henry Blake. Your Premier (he thinks) would not at any rate have been such an ass as to object to a man without first accurately ascertaining his record and reputation. ' The cream of tho present fuss,' said my ncquaiutance, ' tons fellows behind the scene?, is that Blake is positively one of our best and most rising men. In Newfoundland both he and Lady Blake were extraordinarily popular, and his conduct at the constitutional crises there was by both political parties admitted to bo beyond praise. The fact is,Pir Henry Blake, in character and appearance, is of the stuff tho brst governors are made of. His magistracy in Ireland, so far from unfitting him for his vice-regal duties, gave him the necessary dignity, and a judicial fra«ae of mind. To talk* of him as 'one of Buckshot Forster's creatures ' is nonsense. He perfornwl his disagreeable duties so fairly and ph-.ckily that he became absolutely popular, and if it is true that he and Lady Blake had often to sit up all the night with firearms by their sides, it is also a fact that when they were leaving the district they were cordially cheered, and that blessings were called down on Lady Blake's head for her frequent kindnesses and charities to the unfortunate peasantry. If (wound up my acquaintance) Sir John Pope Hennessey had been appointed to Queensland, I could have understood the colony objecting ; but to those ' in the know ' the objections to the Blakes sound simply grotesque. —Two Kinds of Husband as Described by the Boston Courier : — NO. I ; Wife (after putting on a new dress)— ' Well, John, how do you think I look in it ?' Huaband (without raising h's eyes from his paper)—' I guess it's all right.' W.— ' But. John, you might look at it.' ll.—' Oh ! hang it,"don't disturb me.' W. (with a little gurgle in her throat)— ' Well John, it was to please you that I had it made.' H. (reading his paper)—' It'll do pretty well, I guess.' W.— ' But you haven't looked at it yet.' H.— 'Don't bother me. Don't you see I'm reading ?' W.— ' But, John ' H — ' Don't bother me 1' W. — ' If you would just 3ay ' H. — ' You are too vain. ' W.— 'Oh, my!' H. (gruffly)— ' Yes, so you are.' W. (hysterically) — ' And it was to please you that I had it made, and I thought ' H. (impatiently) — ' Oh, pshaw !' NO. 2: W. (with a sweet smile on her rosy lips)— ' How does this dress become me, John f H. (looking up from his paper) — ' Why, my pet, it fits you like a glove.' W. (with a little giggle— a happy one)—' Don't it now, John ?' H. (throwing 1 his paper aside and looking at her with a world of affection in his eyes)—' It sets off your beauty splendidly.' W. (with, a pretty pout) — ' Do you think lam beautiful ?' H. (emphatically) — ' To me you are the mostbeautiful woman in the world.' W. (coming over and kissing him) — 'Do you think so, John ?' H. (effusively) — ' Think so ? lam certain of it. You are the star of my life. My kind, ray sweet little wife.' W. (delightedly)-' Oh, John !' — At 5 o'clock tea : 'Is your daughter a member of the Shakespeare Club Mrs McShoddy ?' 'Why of course! She's president or chairwoman or whatever they call ifc. They have just finished " The Tanning of the Shrew" and now they are going to read " Much About Doing Nothing." I expect they will read " The Bells " after that— 'Enery Hirving's chef dover.'j j; ,

HIT AND MISS. How beautiful was all around, How silent, yet how bright ! How much of interest to be found ! Yet one thing ohained my sight. A little mound all overgrown "With moss and lilies tall, At either end a little stone — I saw it, that was all. A loved one rested 'neath those flowers Unconscious of my woe ; Yet I thanked heav'n ere many hours My turn would come to go. A fervent prayer I eoitly breathed— I hope it was not heard, For wildest passions in mo seethed, I used the strongest word. ***** 'Twas in the theatre I sat, _ The loved one was not mine ; The mossy mound was a tall hat ; The stones were diamonds fine. How we live now : — ' Poor Jenny ! It must be an awful shock to you,' sympathized her friend. ' And to think that you trusted him all these years, while he was embezzling such enormous sums !' ' Yes,' she sobbed. ' I knew my millinery alone came to more than his salary, but I never suspected him.' I — In the old man's study : j Pater : ' You'll kill yourself, Jack. That must be your tenth cigar to-day.' , jack : ' Thirtieth, Gov'nor, pon honour !' . ' Pater (sternly) : ' Horrible ! Look at me, sir. I never smoke move that two cigars a day.' Jack -. ' Neither would I if I had to smoke your cigars, Gov'nor.' — Few people would talte Sir Harry ' Atkinson to be a humourist (says the Wellington Post). Yet he is really one of the first water. His humour finds its most ccngenial devolopment in practical jokes. Some of these are regular screamers. He has been lately very much impressed with the principles upon which the Gilbertian burlesques, to which Sir Arthur Sullivan has wedded so much charming music, are constructed. That principle is generally described as topsyturveydom. The fun arises from placing round pegs in square holes, and vice ww, and at once recognising how much amusement has been got out of the arrangement on the mimic stage, Sir Harry Atkinson determined to try the effect on «a larger scale on the political stage. This is the secret of many of the late appointments. . . . At the risk of violating the most sacred confidences and causing some of the contemplated jokes to miss the when officially sprung upon the public, we will venture to outline a few of the appointments, promotions and interchanges -which tire in preparation tinder the stage management of Sir Harry Atkinson. In the first place, then, Mr J. C. Gavin, Secretary to the Treasury, is to bo appointed to the command of the s.s. Stella, with the rank of InspectorGeneral of Lighthouses, and Captain Fairchild is to become Inspector-General of Schools, in place of the B«?v. W. J. Habens, who is to succeed Mr Gordon, Inspector of Mines, the Premier rightly holding that if Mr Habons is an Inspector, it is quite immaterial what he inspects. Mr Gordon is to receive the vacant Judgeship, and Mr Haselden Under-Secretary for Justice, is to be appointed. Surveyor-General, being succeeded by Mr William Agnew, temporarily attached to the Prisons Department. Captain Edwin is to be made Secretary to the Treasury, and the duty of forecasting the weather is to be transferred to tho Commissioner of Police, tlic person to fill whose office is being at present sought for amongst the graduates at Mt. Cook. Mfijor Gudgeon is to bo on Examiner of Titles. Mr Keid, Solicitor-General, is to be Mr Elackett's successor as Engineer-in-Cliief,and Mr V\ r . Brown is to add the duties of Solicitor-General to tho3Q of Eegistrav-General. Mr Sperrey is to leave the Property Tax Department to become Govt. Printer, and Mr Didsbury is to succeed Sir James Hector as Director of the Geological Department, the latter retiring on pension, as it is universally acknowledged that it would be quite impossible to find any office which he was not specially well qualified to fill, lieut.Col. Hume, Inspector of Prisons and Volunteers, is to exchange duties with the Statist, and Dr Laishley, of Auckland, is to be the new Property Tax Commissioner. These are but a few of the great burlesque appointments of which Sir Harry Atkinson is the gifted author. — An Export : Mother : ' Johnny, I'm shocked to hoar you swear. Do you learn that at school ?' Johnny : ' Learn it at school ! Why, it's me what teaches the other boys !' — ' 1 don't tbiuk tliat picture is at all natural,' said Cora at the Art Gallery. ' The artist has the lady in the hammock, while the c-entleman is reading a book 50 yards off.' ' But, don't you see. my dear/ replied her friend, ' they are married !' —She could die happy. Fashionable young belle who has not yot had a scandal—' So you love me, do you ?' Wealthy middle-aged bachelor (passionately) — ' Indeed 1 do, I am ready to be your slave.' ' Will yoa take me Home, and to all the interesting places ? , TT . , ' Assuredly ! You shall live in Venice. 'Oh, never mind Venice.' ' You shall have a villa in Padua and a box at Boulogne.' ' But I don't care for that.' ' Well, what do you want ?' ' If you could arrange to have tho Prince of Walesinvite me to hinch so that I could refuse to go, I think I could die happy.' — What made her raad. — ' I tbink tliat that Mr Smith is just as hateful as he can be!' said one pretty girl to her dearest friend the other day: ' Why, what's the matter ?' asked the other in surprise. I thought he was very attentive to you at the party last night.' ' Yes,' said the • first pretty girl, spitefully, ' that's just what's the matter. We were out in the conservatory together, and nobody else was around. He had been just as pleasant and entertaining as man could be, and really I couldn't help thinking what a handsome fellow he was. It was real cosy and dark out there — and we were all alone, as I said before— and he was sitting just a? close— and— and— '■ ' And he kissed you ?' the other interrupted, eagerly. :,%- 'No,' wa3 the' reply, 'the mean horrid tiling ! Kertuhi'tl' '