"Pars ABOUT PEOPLE

Observer, Volume XVI, Issue 925, 3 October 1896, Page 22

"Pars ABOUT PEOPLE

The cause of cold tea had rather a set-back in the * King ' Country last week, where all the prospect pleases and only the sly- grog seller is vile. The Rev. Isitfc conducted a prohibition meeting at Otorohanga, and after appealing to the Europeans, Maoris, and half-castes present to arise and pat down the liquor traffic, fas appealed to them to write and petition Government to enact that all goods coming into the prohibited district of the King Country must have the nature of. the contents clearly marked on the outside, and further, that inspectors should have power to break open any cases suspected to contain icaipiro in any shape or form. This wild proposal did not meet with much favour from the Otorohanga people, who like their whisky good and their beer undefiled. Then, when Isitt took round a petition to the above effect, and implored the audience to sign it, , not one of his hearers would append their signatures. They all, with one accord, began to make excuses, and were fairly ' off • Isitt and all his works. So the cold-tea apostle had to abandon the petition business, and next morning he shook the mud of Otorohanga from off his bootß, and sadly departed. The canny piebald population of the King Country evidently do not believe in depriving the settler of his beer or the navvy of his horse embrocation. In connection with the Austrian cruiser Albatross, and the death of Baron Von Norbeck, a distinguished Austrian scienist, while exploring on the island of Gauldalcanar, Soloman Islands, it is said that some time ago a seaman of the Albatross Btruck an officer, and that after a courtmartial he was taken out of Sydney harbour and hanged to the ship's yard arm. Naval discipline is very stern on foreign warships. sor a similar offence committed on the Eussian cruiser Djighit, which visited Auckland some years ago, a sailor was, it was afterwards reported, hanged at the main-yard-arm when the corvette got outside Tiritiri on her voyage to Valparaiso. In our last issue we had a paragraph stating that a schoolmistress who left New Zealand about twelve months ago to join the Mormons in Utah had returned to the colony disenchanted with the peculiar manners and customs of the disciples of Brigham ifonng. It Beems, however, that the lady in question is still in Utah, though not in Salt Lake City, and though an adherent of the Mormon tenets of faith, she is not yet married. We have been uhown a letter written by her to a friend in the Auckland district, in which she says she is still teaching school in the land of Mormons, and does not appear to be disenchanted with the place. In her letters she speaks warmly of the locality in which she lives and the people. She Bpeaks well of the American method of teaching, and mentions that there are eight grades instead of six aB in the New Zealand primary schools. Captain John Fairchild, the Commodore of the New Zealand Navy, whose weatherbeaten figurehead is familiar in every port of New Zealand from Whangaroa to the Bluff, was to arrive at Wellington this week with the new Government steamer Tutanekai from Glasgow." Captain John's ruling passion is looking for castawayß, and ■when he passed a lonely rock known aB Amsterdam Island in the Southern Ocean on the passage out, he conld not resist the temptation to turn aside and have a hunt

for shipwrecked sailors. He searched, but found only goata and rabbits, and went on his watery way rejoicing. The popular Bluenose skipper's most congenial task is picking bits of shipwrecked sailors off the lonely islands to-fhe south of New Zealand, and when he -brings a crowd of frost-bitten mariners up to Invercargill from the southern solitndes his heart is filled with much joy, and he gives away penguin's eggs galore.

Hornsby, formerly editor of that extremely vivacious journal the Napier News, is to be the new sab. on the N.Z. Times. He is a man of versatile genius and daring enterprise. When cable communication was interrupted for some days, he printed a lot of hair raising^telegifflCttß in the News about a war between France and Russia, and a tremendous rise in the price of wheat The war with Russia was tolerated as a passable joke, but the boom in wheat disturbed the Canterbury market, &vi raised a hornet's neat about Hornsby's ears. Unfortunately, the proprietors of the News were incapable of appreciating inventive genius of that kind,and Hornsby took a holiday. But he is likely to make the Times hum. An Enoch Arden story is told in regard to Stephen Bosher, one of the most important witnesses in the Petone murder case, who has since been arrested on a somewhat singular charge of theft — a man, by-the-way. upon whom a good deal in connection with the murder case may yet turn. Bosher is a Frenchman, born in one of the districts of central France, and had to take his torn at army service under the conscription system. .When on duty in, Algiers he deserted, but was arrested and sentenced to ten years' imprisonment. Under the rules of his prison he was not allowed to communicate with his wife, who therefore mourned him as dead. On regaining his liberty he uaturally turned his steps home-

ward, bat was advised that in the interval his wife had found consolation by marrying a herculean Irishman and that the reception he was likely to receive would be the opposite of cordial. Bosher, therefore, made a virtue of necessity and decided to •leave the pair to their .Arcadian bliss anil strike out opon a new career at the other end of the world. He, therefore, came oat to the French settlement at Akaroa, and has lived in New Zealand ever since, darning his living as a gardener. The Honorable ' Willie ' Swanson is back in town from Wellington, having got leave for the remainder of the session on account of the serious illness of his wife. ANorthcote resident, who was as wellknown as the Town Clock when Clerk of the Police Court, and is now greatly troubled with gout and rheumatism, took advantage of a fine day and walked to the Lake. All went well until he turned to come back, then his old complaint turned on him. Things looked blue for a while, when an old friend hove in sight in his buggy, and, seeing the trouble of the gout afflicted cripple, hauled him up and drove him home. They arrived in Norfchcote just as the 5:30 boat discharged her cargo of hungry residents. When our friend tried

to alight be found his limbs would not let him, so stiffened had they become; and as bis weight . would not allow of' hie being lifted oat, the horse had to be unharnessed and the baggy tilted, when oar friend gracefully slid to the ground and was borne inside, never to stray away again. The most indefatigable attendant of' the ladies' gallery in the House is a Mrs Garmson, a prominent leader of the Women's Progressive Movement. Melbourne Punch says that Arthur Louis Becke, while in London, means to float a South Sea Island trading company. "We believe, however, that his real mission to Europe is to report to a Belgian firm or syndicate on the prospects, etc., of a proposed steam trading service amongst the islands of the north-west Pacific. An Auckland tobacconist tells of an amusing experience which he had the honour to have the other day with a ' Johnnie ' of much pretensions but little cash. Mr Rothschild, as we will call the Johnnie, had a friend with him whom he was handsomely treating regardless of expense (dining at bar-room lunch-counters oa threepenny beers, no doubt). The Rothschild was got up to kill, with : kid gloves and spats just like Jackson Palmer's. And when he strolled haughtily into '.the tobacconist's shop, the Keeper thereof thought he had struck a ' blooming lord.' ' Aw, Algie, old boy, have cigar with me ? That's right, deah boy,' drawled Rot&schild as he felt for his humble sixpence.' ' Tobacconist, aw, have you any good cigars ? If so, aw, show me some.' The tobacconist hastened to comply with the request, thinking by this time that he had struck a duke in disguise visiting our goldfields, as he produced a box of cigar 3. ' Deah me, aw, these are not up to my taste at all ; too common altogether,' said Rothschild, as he sniffed disdainfully at the weeds, ' give me something better, the best, aw, you've got.' j And the Johnnie pat on a regardlesß-of-ex-pense air, and chewed his cane recklessly. The tobacconist now handed down a box of extra choice cigars selling at half-a-crown each, and Rothschild and his friend selected one each, and bit the ends, off preparatory to smoking them, and then lit them. ' Aw, what's the damage ?' inquired Rothschild, with the air of one who is buying up the universe. ' Five shillings, sir,' said the polite shopkeeper; ' half a crown each, sir.' ' Good gracious, man, what do you mean ? Haifa-crown each ?' ' Yes, sir.' Rothschild seemed quite flabbergasted; he would have taken another brand, bat it was too late, and after much searching he at last found the five shillings, and departed, saying, ' Aw, you know I have been accustomed to pay a trifle less for my cigars down South, you know!' And feebly the Baron crawled away. He hasn't bought any half-crown cigars since, and his friends say that since that shcck his nerves are a complete wreck.

So far Nekton Councillor J. W. Shackelford is the only municipal father we have Been bestriding the giddy bike. But more will Bnrely follow, and then may the cyclist expect roads after his own heart. W. H Gray, the South Australian millionaire miser, died the other day. He was a big owner of Adelaide land-values, and reputedly worth a million and ahalf He carried his ' closeness ' so far that he collected his own rents to save agents' commission, and walked to Adelaide, five miles, to save tram-fares. One of the Bights of Adelaide was to see Gray doing the block in a much patched snit, green with age. Mrs Nikorims,, the well-known Ohinemnri lady of dnsky hue, whose face is familiar to most Ancklanders, speaks far better English than the average pakcha. She was, as a girl, brought up by Lady Martin, wife of Judge Sir William Martin, in Parnell. Mrs ' Nick ' is an original character, and believeß in ' Maoriland for the Maoris.' She does not admire the New Woman, and her objections to ladies riding the bicycle are based on physiological reasons which she is wont to express in language that is frequent and free. Captain T. A. Parkhill, who is master of what sailors call a ' lame duck,' in the shape of a ship in distress which arrived here the other day, has the distinction of commanding the largest iron or steel sailing ship that has yot entered the port of Auckland. His vessel, the Scottish Lochs, a big powerful ship of 2640 tons gross register, beats the record for size, so far as modern ' windjammers ' in this port are concerned. It was a common tale of the sea Sndden squall, kites caught, topmast gone, nearest port. Members of Parliament seem to differ as So the precise value of Major Kemp's services to the colony during the Maori War. Major Kemp, or Kepa, is a Whanganni chief who led a native friendly contingent during the war and had a lot of fighting and pig-killing and looting. After a succesßful skirmish his warriors used to get so elated that they would halt just when Te Kooti or some other gentleman was on the point of being captured, and perform furious war dances for a week or so in celebration of the victory. After a bit of a fight it would be ' Taihoa, ! wait a bit ; we've done enough shooting for today.' Which disgusted the pale face warriors who had to co-operate with Kemp, but it was characteristic of the peculiar fighting tactics of the Maori. Old Thamesites will well remember Mr Henry Roche, the taciturn little man who, in the early day3. kept for many years the toll-gate that used to bar the way at the head of Curtis's Grahamstown wharf to all who didn't shell out the nimble penny, and also, for a time, did duty at the old Tararu wharf, now a thing of the past. Mr Roche Las just died at Greytown, in the Wairarapa district. After leaving the Thames he entered the employment of the Railway Department, and he has beenstationmaster at Greytown for several years past. He leaves a widow, but no family. Mrs Hutcbinaon, of the Salvation Army, related an incident at the gathering of Juvenile Depravity people in the Auckland Manicipal ßuildings on Tuesday week which peculiarly illustrated the doctrine of heredity. She said that when Bhe waß engaged in rescue work in the streets of Melbourne recently she had under her care, in the Rescue Home of the Army, a young girl whose parents were most respectable and were well-to-do, but the girl was a 'hard case,' and went to the bad, though very yonug in years. She ran away from the Home and disguised herself in jockey's clothes, so that Mrs Hutchinson, who was hunting the streetß of Melbourne for her, passed her several times, but failed to recognise the girl in male attire. At last, one day, she recognised the face and attempted to get tha girl back to the Home again. The young lady in trousers, however, showed fight, and tore oif some of her garments in her combative spirit. A crowd assembled, and the partially-undressed ' jockey ' was soon seen to be a girl, and she was conveyed back to the Home. Mrs Hutehinson was relating the incident some days later to the girl's uncle, who occupied a respectable ana important position in Melbourne, and he, in & manner which showed he was deeply touched, told the rescue lady that his Bister, the girl's mother, had done exactly the same thing when she was a girl. She eloped with a young fellow, and in order to get away she was dressed as a boy, in male clothing. The girl whom Mrs Hutchinson had under her t are knew nothing of this, yet her first instinct when she got free was to get into trousers! It seems to be a pretty good proof of the correctness of the doctrine of heredity, if any proof were needed. What about the ' cominer rule ' of trousered female bicyclists ? Will their attire be a proof of the fact that the mothers in the era of New Women unoonffciously implanted in their offsprings' breasts the desire for the divided garb of mankind ?

Monsieur Calon, Whangarei's 'Carl Schmitt,' gave a performance of his pupils the other evening in the Whangarei Opera House. He is quite an entertainment in himself. While the playing of his pupils (20 hands) is going on he imitates windmiHs, sawing wood, lunging, sparring, and many

Colonel Tom McDonnell, who led the famous native contingent in the Maori War, and is now rusting ont in Wellington as a native interpreter, with occasional Government employment as a Deputy Coroner, is. one of the sturdiest old soldiers that New Zealand has produced. Of him a oontempory tells the following story : — The Colonel, who had been in scores of actions, was in command on the Whanganui coast, and oar lines were some miles north of that town. Riding down to Whanganni from the Front, McDonnell was fired on by the rebels, and being in Wellington a few days afterwards, he reported the matter to the Defence Minister. ' Are you sure it wasn't blank cartridge. Colonel ?' said Haultain. McDonnell drew himself up to his full height, and looking straight into his questioner's eyes replied, 'Can't say, sir. Never wa9 under blank cartridge fire in my life. Mr Elsdon Best, whe is one of the most accomplished Maori pundits in the Government service, came oack to Kotorua the other day, after a sojourn of eighteen months in the wilds of Tuhoe Land, or the Urewera Country. Mr Best, who is one of the most active members of the Polynesian Society of New Zealand, has varied his labours while keeping the Government store at Te Whaiti by digging out a vast amount of recondite mythological and historical lore from the natives in Tuhoe Land, and he has contributed extensively on these topics to the Otago Witness and Hot Lakes Chronicle. A large amount of new and interesting information of this sort, especially as regards the ' ancient people ' of Tuhoe Land.and how they loved and murdered and ate in the days when William the Conqueror was King, as collected by Mr Best, will -also be issued shortly from the Lands and Survey Department, with illustrations from photographs taken by Mr Humphries, chief surveyor, Hawke's Bay. The late Julian Thomas ('The Vagabond ') who died in harness lately in Melbourne, visited Auckland on several occasions. On one occasion some years ago, when he arrived here, R. J. Kendal— then on the reporting staff of the long defunct Evenhuj Bell — was told off by his editor to ' interview ' the ' Vagabond ' and pump him dry. Kendal went down to Queen street wharf and marched aboard the big Union boat. Be found his man alright, but he positively declined to be interviewed. Not a word but ' yes ' or ' no, 1 and not too many of them, could the ' interviewer ' get out of the literary lion, who proved decidedly ' growlsome.' Kendal was not easily shaken off, but the ' Vag. ' proved too tough for him, and putting up his note-book he said ' good day ' and returned to the office. But do you suppose he was to be beaten, even then? Not a bit of it. Your true journalist won't be beaten. Kendal sat down and wrote a column account of his experience with Thomas, heading it : ' How the Vagabond Refused to be Interviewed by a Bell Man.' And he sent the big gun a copy of the paper. By return mail Thomas wrote Keudal saying that hiß article was one of the most readable things of the kind he'd ever seen, and warmly complimenting him on his ingenuity ! Julian Thomas was a man of much ready wit. When in a gossiping mood — and he generally was in a gossiping mood — he could spin yarns by the hour. He said a neat thing one day while he was secretary of the Charities Commision. The members had been discussing a matter for a 1 very long time and were all about tired, when a prosy member addressed himself at length to it. 'Gentlemen,' said he, 'we need to get at the beginning of this charity mitter. ' ' Oh, that's easily managed, ' pnt in Julian Thomas, ' charity always begins at home ; lee us go and find the beginnings of it there. ' And they did. He aiways insisted on being treated properly wherever he went on his Press missions. If the township which he might be visiting did not pay hin due honour, he did not ' forget it in what he wrote.