Pars About People

Observer, Volume XV, Issue 821, 22 September 1894, Page 3

Pars About People

Thus Earnshaw, M.H.E. : 'The only difference between a hawker and a commercial traveller is that whereas one wears a muffler round his neck, the other has a stand up collar and half a ton of side.' And so the christening of the York baby cost £50,000, eh ? Let's see, that sum put out at five per cent interest, would yield just £2,500 a year. Possibly the Royal bantling will be glad of £2,500 a year, one of these days. Bishop Julius gives some sensible advice to amateur photographers : — ' Never take photographs of your friends if you value their friendship. If you must take portraits take those of the people you hate most.'

Lord, and Lady Brooke, who let out on Gordon Camming and the baccarat business, have since been known as the. ' Babbling Brookes.' John Burns, the professional agitator, is hard up, and. his admirers are subscribing to keep him in Parliament, otherwise he contemplated returning to the bench — shoemaker's. The popular Father Hackett has been the recipient of about half-a-dozen \aledictory addresses, all expressive of the deepest regret at his departure, and a purse of 60 sovereigns. Father Hackett will be missed here by Catholics and Protestants as well. Tawhiao, when he went home to England in 1884 to protest against the ' carryings on ' of the N.Z. Government, was very indignant that he couldn't obtain an interview with Her Goodness Gracious, and strongly objected to transacting business with her ' shadow ' as he called the Earl of Derby. Hee Hem Smith : 'Hi remember the great policy of public works and immigration of Sir Julius Yogel when he asked the House to -agree to borrow £10,000,000.' Then (Solemnly) : ' that budget sink* into insignificance when compared with Treasurer Ward's budget.' Hee Hem would never sink into insignificance.

Amongst the performers at the Panmure concert was the Reverend Mr Calder, of All Saints' Chxirch, who sang ' Father O'Flynn ' with much gusto. — Daili/ report.

Mr McGuire wants the whole law of New Zealand codified, consolidated and simplified, and reduced to one or two handbooks couched in such plain and simple language that he who runs may read. But bless us and save us, what would the poor lawyers do for a living if the mysteries of the law were improved away in this manner ? Mrs Besant will tax the energies of the shorthand reporters if they try to ' take ' her next month. She is one of the fastest speakers living, and is sometimes almost unreportable except by the very swiftest of stenographers. Mrs Besant used to tell a story of a reporter in Manchester, who once said to Mr Bradlaugh, ' You run away with one when you are speaking, but Mrs Besant is the very devil !' Gerald Tolhurst, son of Wellington's big bank man — he lost a leg in a railway accident in Southland a few months ago — has taken up land for a sheep-run at Te Horo on the Manawatu line. A one-legged man will have some trouble stumping it over such hilly . country as iB thereabouts, but more power to him for his pluck and grit.

Mrs G. C!. Miln, -wife of the tragedian of that name who toured Maoriland some years ago, used to play Desdemona in high-heeled boots. When Othello pulled her out of bed those boots looked rather peculiar, but the lady never would consent t • play in her ' stocking-feet.' George Moison put his foot in it Christchurch way the other day. He laid totalizator odds to one Philip Ryan, and when Ryan presented the winning ticket to him told him to go to warmer regions. Ryan went to a policeman instead, and the ' welsher ' who held that bets were not recoverable at law was startled by a sentence of four months for fraud. Welsh- " ing is becoming a risky business. Miss Bertha Grouse, who it will be remembered, was a, sufferer by a hotel fire in the Waikato, on which occasion she had a roll of bank notes burned, for which the bank disclaimed responsibility, writes to us to say the bank has reconsidered her case, and while refusing to recognise that she had any legal claim upon it, yet, taking the hardship cf the case into consideration, has made her a grant of £10. We thought they could not refuse the moral claim.

Thus JEe Hem Smith :—' Hif Hi a Railway Commissioner for a few months Hi would revolutionise the whole system.' He would. Indeed, he would. ; The late Marie Bashkirtseff. oncesaid: — The wife before marriage is. Pompeii before the. eruption ; and the wife . after marriage is Pompeii after the. eruption.' Melba's terms for 20 Australian conaerts are £430 per night, and ex's. That's all. Melba's pa (Mr. Mitchell, of Melbourne, builder and contractor), doesn't make ±'430 in six months in all probability. One kernel out of the enormous quantity of Talmage husk: — ' There's no use in offering men the bread of the other life, unless we offer them the bread of this life as well.' By all accounts Talmage is getting his full share of crumbs from the bread of this life just now. Ex-circus proprietor Hayes, whose transformation from a circus man to a steamer steward was recently mentioned in the Observer, also got a par. to the same effect in Adelaide Quiz, which adds : ' A steward who can do double somersaults ought to be invaluable in stormy weather.' One Ferris, a carpenter, attended a ' mission ' service held by itinerant Shepherd McNeil! at Melbourne the other day. A pickpocket who went to listen and remained to prei/, relieved Ferris of £1500. Which seems to show that when you attend mission services you should leave your valuables at home. Tennyson Smith, the man with the flowing locks and the sad, sweet smile, had a stormy experience at Daylesford (Vie.) the other night. The meeting was a very rowdy one, and Tennyson several times left the platform and vainly endeavoured to restore harmony. When he finally abandoned the attempt to make himself heard part of the audience were singing temperance hymns and the rest roaring ' Rule Britannia.' Alas, poor Tennyson ! George Ford, of Melbourne, was decidedly eccentric. He arrived in Victoria from China some years ago with a few thousands in his pocket. He lived on this money until it was all gone. When he was down to his last pound-note he went to Scott's hotel, Melbourne, engaged a bedroom, stood before the looking-glass and stabbed himself twelve times with a dagger. The wounds formed a circle round the heart. The thirteenth wound pierced the heart, and George fell to rise no more. Wandering shepherd McNeill, who is shortly due in Maoriland, is now in Sydney. A correspondent of the Bulletin writes concerning him : The necessity for parson McNeill's globe-trotting is not made clear by the statement that he ' gave up the rich Regent Square congregation ' in .London. Regent Square itself is a haunt of fashionable immorality, where the shepherd j might have found enough ' work ' to last him a lifetime. Or, if he wanted a change, why didn't he stick to crowded London instead of wandering abroad and disguising himself in a 'Murkan accent?. ' Oh, fancy !' as the Rev. Spalding says in ' The Private Secretary,' a parcel of Sir George Grey's books found * after many years ' in a London bookseller's shop where they had been lying until the dust was an inch thick upon them. And now, just when Sir George is the lion of the hour at Home, those books bob up serenely. How curious ! Nobody ever asked to look at them while their distinguished author was in New Zealand, but now that he is ' sitting on the steps of the throne ' and all that sort of thing, these books will be worth their weight in gold. How lucky they were found — to be sure ! Max O'Rell has been writing in a Paris periodical about Australia. He says :— ' The sovereign of Australia is neither the Queen, nor the Governor nominated by her, nor the members of Parliament elected by the people, nor the Ministers chosen by the Parliament; the lord and master of Australia is the workman. He is lazy, drunken, a sieve — thinking only of his own pleasure and taking no interest in the development of his country. He vegetates in the great towns whilst -the country is crying for hands. He would do well to imitate the Chiuaman whom he despises.' There is more truth in this than Max O'Rell would care to admit. Sir Matthew Begbie, Chief Justice of British Columbia died the other day. Many good stories are told of him. Here is one. Years ago a prisoner was charged before Sir Matthew with having ' sandbagged " a man to death. To the amazement of the Court the verdict was ' not guilty.' The Chief Justice addressing the ]ury said : Gentlemen of the jury, mind, that is your verdict, not mine. On your conscience will rest the stigma of returning such a disgraceful verdict. Many repetitions of such conduct as yours will make trial by jury a horrible farce, and the city of Victoria a nest of immorality and crime. Go, I have nothing more to say to you. And then, turningto the prisoner, the Chief Justice added : 'You are discharged. Go and sand-bag some of those jurymen ; they deserve it !'