LOOK ON THIS PICTURE AND THEN ON THAT.

Observer, Volume XVI, Issue 922, 12 September 1896, Page 2

LOOK ON THIS PICTURE AND THEN ON THAT.

A Contrast,

There was a pathetic story in a Wellington paper the other day. A septegenarian had slowly and painfully scraped together, penny by penny and shilling by shilling, a small competence for the winter of his life, and perhaps, in the sturdy pride and independence of his nature, to prevent the degradation of a pauper funeral. This sum he invested in the shares of a certain bank which shall be nameless. In course of time, calls fell due, and having no outside resource to meet them, his shares-were forfeited, and he was thrown upon the cold charity of the world, old, feeble, friendless, and heartbroken.

Look at the other side of the picture. A man who has made ducks and drakes of tens of thousands of pounds from a certain bank, which also shall be nameless, comes to Wellington and smilingly asks Parliament to hand over to himsslf or to a syndicate, which practically means the same thing, the entire control of a certain river. This he does on the plea that the said combination of philanthropists desire to open up and utilise the river for electric motor purposes — the river being a navigable stream for many miles, and an outlet for the products of an extensive agricultural and pastoral country. The scheme he proposes is to enlighten and benefit the present and future generations for all time.

"What this sturdy beggar and his brother philanthropists ever did towards opening np or utilization of the river at a time when it was in the hands of the natives is a question which we don't pretend to answer. But if history tells a true story, he was one of many others who criticised the military operations from a safe distance. Bat whether Parliament will grant the poon swindled septegenarian an old age pension 1 or present the gang of monopolists with the riparian rights of the river, is a question upon which no light can be thrown at present. Perhaps when the old man has been laid away in Borne quiet, obscure corner of a cemetery, with no memorial to mark the spot, and when the syndicate has illumined the whole world, including the aforesaid cemetery, the question will be less obscure.