THE FRETFUL PORCUPINE A Quill for Everyone.

Observer, Volume XIV, Issue 795, 24 March 1894, Page 5

THE FRETFUL PORCUPINE A Quill for Everyone.

Ponsonby, as usual, shows the greatest improvement in the Auckland oity valuations. But then Ponsonby is by a long way the most progressive part of Auckland.

It is very amusing to hear the chairman of the N.Z. Drug Company say they had ' determined to assert their strength and do business.' * Push ' is the one thing that this concern is not remarkable for.

"We learn from a Port Fitzroy correspondent that a great reaction has taken place there. Some of Mr Monk's supporters are getting up a Christian Endeavour Society, others are starting a Bible Class, while others again have joined the ' Army.' At the latter's meetings, some of the testimonies are rich, but no mention is made of beer — nobody will own up to that.

Onehunga was thinking of securing the services of a Sanitary Inspector, regardless of expense — that is to say, at the princely remuneration of J3lO per annum. But Her Worship dissented, and moved ' that the position of Sanitary InBpector be conferred on Mr Wadman, foreman of works, without, salary.' 1 Conferred ' is good. Was TV adman desirous of the honor (without salary) thus thrust upon him ?

A gentleman in rather an elevated condition sauntered into an Auckland church last Sunday during morning service. He was smoking a rather dirtylooking pipe and wore a somewhat battered hat, and he didn't take the trouble to remove either as he dropped into a seat. He seemed to be under the impression that it was some kind of entertainment. Being speedily undeceived, he was induced reluctantly to retire.

We read iv the newspapers that the Governor and party had a good time at Motutapu. They shot one deer each, and Lord Glasgow wounded another. H'm. Where is the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty now ? But perhaps the deer is so muoh alive to the honour of being shot by a real Governor that it is indifferent to the racking agonies occasioned by a bullet in its body. Anyhow, it is difficult to see in what respect it is more oruel to work a horse with a galled shoulder than it is to wound a deer and leave the animal in pain. But perhaps the paragraph iv the newspaper was incorrect.

Tongues have been wagging very freely in society circles in Auckland concerning a threatened divorce action in which an individual well known in the boot and shoe line was expected to become the petitioner on the ground of his wife's unfaithfulness. The probable co-respondent was stated to be a medical gentleman. But we are glad to learn that it is all right now. To quote the Frenchman in a celebrated story : ' Begin the music again ; go on with the dance once more; the gentleman has apologised '—and paid over J&1500 to the aggrieved husband.

Social circles in Auckland have been much amused this week concerning a most unfortunate contretemps that happened to a lady in the creme-de-Za-creme of local society at the last Choral Society practice. She had taken with her a large bunch of luscious grapes, and when she stood up to sing she placed them on her seat. She is an enthusiast in singing, and it is not at all surprising that when the vocal number ended she had wholly forgotten the location, aye, and even very existence of those grapes. Down she went flop into her seat, Bquash went the grapes, and— but there the story ends.

An Auckland tradesman pressed for .£l5O, unbosomed himself to his father confessor. Said he : 'I have tried to get it from the Jews, but they want 40 per cent.' 'Ruinous !' said his reverence, ' don't pay it. Why, I'll let you have the needful myself rather than that, and I'll only charge you ten per cent.' ' Done !' said the tradesman, and gave his reverence a bill for .£l5O bearing interest at 10 per cent. Not very long afterwards the borrower ' filed.' His reverence, sooner than allow his name to appear, forwent his claim— and bang went .£l5O, ' with interest added!' The priast who tells the tale always winds it up with : ' Serve Father right ! He only gets .£7O a year — and yet he can lend money.' The borrower, who is now ' far, far away/ has blossomed out as the proprietor of a new Bhop filled with new goods.

Seventy-six deaths from cancer in New Zealand daring the past year. And those who ought to know, declare that cancerous meat is largely responsible for this most serious mortality. The deaths in Auckland from cancer during the year, have been 17. Dunedin lost 17 citizens owing to the same cause, Christohuroh 10, and Wellington 31 ! Cancer therefore has killed more people during the past 12 months than Rough-on-Rats and matchheads put together ! And that meat inspector is not appointed yet !

The reception accorded by the Board of Education to Mr Thwaites's application for an enlargement of the Chapel-street school is not likely to encourage other teachers to be enthusiastic in their work. The ' truant ' or ' ragged ' brand is on this school, and Mr Thwaites has had no easy task to popularise it with parents and children. That he has done so is very much to his credit, and speaks whole volumes for his earnestness and enthusiasm, in his work. The Board would be acting very unwisely and with crude iudgment if it were to divide or break up the school that Mr Thwaites has laboured so hard and successfully to get together. Extension in this instance is the best economy.

Wben the pilot went aboard the Forfarshire the other day to ' take her out,' the ' old man ' Baid he couldn't make a start that day. ' Why not ?' asked the pilot. ' Because,' said the old jaan, ' the ship's cat choked herself this morning, and, of course, after that it would be blanky lunacy to go.' ' Why not get another cat ?' asked the pilot. ' Could you get me one?' eagerly queried the captain. 'Of courße I can.' * Well, go along at once. Say : bring two cats while you are about it, if you can.' The two pussies were obtained, and the body of the defunct animal having been carefully carried ashore and buried — to throw overboard a dead cat means hurricanes, cyclones, famine and shipwreck — the ' old man ' recovered his equanimity. Richard was himself again.

The peaceful neighbourhood of Devonport was thrown into a state of some consternation on Monday evening last when a boat load of f roliosome youn? things, accompanied by their equally frolicsome young swains, landed at the wharf and proceeded to make ttings hum. A kind of triumphal march was improvised along Church-streetjCulminating in a grand tangi around the site of an erstwhile bachelor's door, where the voices of .the party were mingled with the barking of many dogs. The law-abiding residents in the vicinity, not knowing the nature of the gathering, began to drive in their horses grazing on the road side and to keep a watoh over all their portable property. However, the supposed marauders eventually took their departure, leaving the Devonportians to solitude and sleep.

Otorohanga has no licensed public house. But you can get good liquor there notwithstanding. Thereby hangs a tale. Imagine the Premier and Wahanui in a private sitting-room of the accommodation house having a friendly interview. Mr Seddon produces a bottle of Glenlivet and fills up a glass for the Maori chief— a stirrup cup in fact. 'You think the whisky good?' innocently asks Wahanui. ' Oh, yes,' responds the Premier, ' kapai.' ' One glass at night good ?' rejoins Wahanui smacking his lips. 'Certainly,' says Mr Seddon 'it warms up the cockles of an old man's heart.' * And one in daytime good ?' queries the chief. ' Yes, one in the daytime is not amiss ' answers the Premier. ' Then why you no license this house ?' says Wahanui. The Premier was clean bowled.

Scene : Papakura race-course, time, Saturday evening. Pitch dark, raining cats and dogs and blowing half a gale. A handful of unfortunates discovered standing in the wet grass waiting on the offchance of the ' through goods ' stopping to take them up, the passenger train having gone long ago. The ' left-behinds ' stood huddled up, shivering with cold, and drenched with rain. The man with the bull-dog neok filled m the time by cursing everything, starting with St. Patrick and tapering off with his 'infernal luck in mißsing the blanky train.' The man with the umbrella leaned Mb head on a post and tried to take a nap. The others grumbled and growled without ceasing. ' Mein Gott !' chipped in the German, with a contemptuous laugh, ' bot you English are afraid of a drop of rain falling on you ! The German soldiers march all day, get wet through, haf no tocker, haf no schleep, und nefer gomblain at all, aindt it? Look at Bismarck—' The man with the bull-dog's neck interrupted. He said : ' Blank the German soldier ! Blank Bismarck. Blank everything. Shut up !' Silence. Presently the German laid his head on the rails to listen for the train. 'Is it coming?' snapped the bull- dog necked man. 'Findt oud!' replied the German, ' you tell me to shot up. Ver goot. 1 shot up.' Here the long luggage train rattled up, and the German, desperately afraid of being left behind, raced after the engine, calling upon the driver with tears in his voioe to • Stop !' The train stopped at last. The soaked Bports scrambled into a van and hey for Auckland, hot tea and dry clothes.

It is curious to learn from the Bey. G. Mao Murray's letters in a recent issue of the Herald that eternal punishment, inspiration of the Bible, and Sunday observance are deemed distinotly non-esßential questions in the Church of England. But it is sometimes difficult to know what are essential questions — apart from finance — with the Church nowadays.

The scene was a seaside town in the far North. The Premier and Mr Carroll receiving deputations. Enter in haste the Chairman of the local Harbour Board. 'Gentlemen, one little matter I had forgotten. I am most anxious to have a buoy.' ' Indeed,' remarks Mr Carroll, with a twinkle in his eye, ' but what kind of a boy ?' ' Oh,' eagerly responds the Chairman, 'I'm not particular; a blue or a checked one will do. "We have only two white ones at present/ ' A blue boy for an anxious father,' soliloquises Mr Carroll. ' Well, it's rather a strange request.' The Chairman faints.

No terms of condemnation would be too strong with which to characterise the opposition now being offered in the City Council to Cr. Julian's proposal to cover the sewerage passing through the gully in Howe-street. This is no question of wards. It is a question of the lives of little children. The Council at the present time is highly culpable in bringing the drainage from Karangahape P- oad a,nd its neighbourhood through a covered drain to the very doors of JBeresford- street school, and there pouring it and its noxious accompanying gases out into the open to poison i the air and injure the health of all who may happen to inhale it. The school-children who pass so much of their time in the neighbourhood are especially subject to this risk, and it is no fiction to say that again and again pupils at this school have died from typhoid traceable to the vile odours from this gully. The drain is covered again at Wellington-street and once more flows into the open below the Napier-street School, to the equal danger of the children there. Indeed, the gully drainage in question has converted the whole of this neighbourhood into a veritable plague-spot. Cr. Julian is right. It is to the best interests of the whole city that something should be done.

' Is that all right ?' she said sweetly to the receiving clerk at Auckland telegraph office as she handed in a message for transmission. 'No address on it,' briefly replied the B.C. 'Oh, dear!' she said, ' how stupid of me ! "Where do I fill in the address ? There ? Oh, thanks.' But she didn't budge. She laid her hand-bag her parasol, and her 85-button gloves on the ledge in front of the window, and pen in hand pondered that address. Meantime three people with messages to hand in gathered around her. They seemed to be in a hurry, too. ' Would " Manager " do,' she said to the clerk, 'or would it be better to put his name in full ?' The clerk muttered something. So did the people who were waiting their turn. It didn't sound pleasant, either. ' When might I expect a reply to it,' was her next question, as she leaned both elbows on the counter and prepared for a little chat. There were now five people waiting. The expression on some of their faces was diabolical. ' Depends on when the reply is sent ' Why, of course, I never thought of that !' And taking up one of the 85-button gloves she leisurely prepared to put it on. When she had got it on and had taken up the other glove she looked round. The furious five glared. She gathered up her scattered belongings and retired to consider whether it should be * manager ' or ' the name in full.'

In the days when Johnny Sheehan was Native Minister, the Maori chief Wahanui came done to Wellington one session on some Native matters. He was taken to the lobby by Mr Sheehan and introduced to the members, who were greatly surprised at his enormous size and bulk, his weight then leing 28 stone. A conversational discussion arose as to the relative strength of Maoris and Europeans. Mr Seddon, then plain member for Kumara and a strong muscular man who could turn the scale at 16 stone, maintained that, proportionately to weight, Europeans were much stronger than Maoris. The statement was controverted, whereupon Mr Seddon offered to carry Wahanui to the end of the lobby and back again, and challenged Wahanui to carry out a similar feat with him. The challenge was interpreted to Wahanui, who laughed heartily, walked round the burly member for Kumara and sniffed in disdain as he contemplated his figure by_ the side of his own elephantine proportions. But the member for Kumara was not to be blnffed. He bent down, took a firm grasp of Wahanui, shouldered his mountain of fiesh, bore him to the end of the lobby amid loud applause and brought him safely back again. Ihe chief, much astonished, said ' kapai ' several times with great emphasis, but couldn't be prevailed on to fulfil his contract to shoulder Mr Seddon. He abandoned the contest. Since then and within the compass of three or four years at most, Wahanui has thrown off more than 10 stone of dead weight.