PARS ABOUT PEOPLE

Observer, Volume XXVII, Issue 34, 11 May 1907, Page 4

PARS ABOUT PEOPLE

THE news of the death of Robert Snowden Barry, reported this week from Palmerston North, was received with

regret in Auckland by a large circle of friends. The deceased was a man of most estimable personal qualities and extreme integrity of character. Coming from Belfast rather more than twenty years ago, he entered the ironmongery business of Messrs J. and J. Dickey, and remained with it almost till its close. He then took his departure for Palmerston North, where he established a sound ironmongery business of his own, which developed rapidly under his shrewd and careful management. In his earlier years, Mr Barry was a personal friend of the late John Ballance, with whom he served in the same ironmougery house as a fellow apprentice, and this friendship was renewed on Mr Barry's arrival in Auckland and maintained until the death of the Liberal statesman. Mr Samuel Barry, eyesight specialist of Auckland, is a son of the late Mr R. S. Barry.

Richard 'Monk, erstwhile M.H.K. for Waitemata, has been pouring out bis soul to the farmers of the neglected North on the subject of the freehold. Richard, it appears, is a staunch freeholder, and brings forward some startling and original facts in support of his attitude. One argument adduced is that when Abraham was procuring a burial ground for his wife, he absolutely declined to look at a leasehold tenure. Therefore, according to the reasoning of Richard, what was good enough for Abraham ought to be good enough for the New Zealand farmer. This sort of reasoning presents dangerous features. For intance, Solomon, alleged to be the wisest man, had, if rumour speaks truly, a little wholesale lot of 800 wives. Therefore, the New Zealand farmer — hut enough ! It only remains for the McNab to hunt up some Biblical character who held his wife's or his mother-in-law's grave on a leasehold tenure. Then he can flatten out Richard effectually. *• ■•• ■•• -

Mr Justice Denniston evidently does not look upon Hansard as a thing of beauty and a joy for ever. Counsel, in pleading before the Court of Appeal, referred to " the mind of Parliament " as exhibited in Hansard. Then His Honour smiled discreetly. " Who knows the mind of Parliament," he asked, "except by legislation passed ? Acts I know, and references to cases or text- books I know, but Hansard — I know not." Certainly, if Hansard is the only proof forthcoming of the existence of the mind of Parliament, then it can safely be stated that, in most cases, the mind of Parliament proves a complete alibi. The career of the veteran Jackson Barry, who died last week, finds a parallel in that of Charles Leopold Diamanti, who is resident down Picton way. Diamanti is a youth verging on ninety, and has had a career such as is rarely heard of outside the covers of the average penny horrible or the Star supplement. A year or two ago — let us be accurate, it was in 1835 — he made a nineteen days' voyage in a whaleboat from New Caledonia to the Bay of Islands. He had four companions, and their sole provisions consisted of six cocoanuts each — a diet which must have become somewhat monotonous. This little voyage wasn't taken for pleasure. Diamanti and his mates belonged to the Yankee whaler "New Bedford," and, after getting fast to a whale, the giddy wretch ('tis the whale we allude to) towed them so far away from the ship that they never saw her again. However, they got safe to New Caledonia, and finally to New Zealand.

Judge Sim is reported as holding that the tramway mo tor men were not justified in refusing to instruct learners, but, at the same time, there was no refusal unless the company's official took the learner to the motorman when making the demand. On the same principle, a man who was ordered to gild the cross on the summit of a steeple could not be held to be guilty of refusal unless the cross were brought down and laid at his feet.

Patents are peculiar things to have anything to do with. This, at least, would appear to have been the experience of H. Storey, a local inventive genius, who recently applied for a patent for a contrivance by which water is boiled with neatness and despatch. No sooner was Mr Storey's application in than one H. H. Reimers bobbed up serenely with the claim that he was the only original boiling .water expert in that particular line. Matters were further complicated when Ivor Evans, manager for Briscoe and Co., more or less unkindly insinuated that both Mr Storey's and Mr Reimer's inventions were back numbers, and that his firm were first in the market so far as boiling water was concerned. Apparently. the whole matter is at boiling point, and all parties appear to have found themselves in hot water. Which is only natural under the circumstances.

Wairoa is happy in the possession of a specimen of muscular Christianity who is an enthusiastic shootist. It also is the proud possessor of a Maori land- holder who is an enthusiastic

Anglomaniac. The two clashed the other day. The CDloured gentleman, to be in the fashion, had affixed to his gate a notice, original as regards spelling and grammar, warning all and -sundry of the dire penalties which awaited any unprincipled person who might invade his estite with dog or gun. The parson, calmly disregarding the eloquent notice board, entered the tapu enclosure and proceeded to indulge his murderous proclivities.

Alarmed at the continuous reports emmating from the clerical gun, the coloured gentleman girt up his boots and went in search of the pirate, and found the muscrlar Christian filling his bag rapidly. "I say, you pakeha ferra," yelled the coloured gentleman, wbatafor you shoot here, eh ? You no see my bally blankety porogram on the gate?" Just at that moment, the parson let drive, and brought down two beautiful birds. The coloured gentlemen's wrath was turned to envy. "By gorry ! You te fine ferra !" he shouted. " Kapai you for te shoot ! You stay here, snoot all 'c time. Kill every blankey bally peibana you see !" And now that wise parson is revelling in sport, and his larder is overflowing with game. As for the coloured gentleman, he so far forgets his dignity as to act as beater.

An ancient mariner has been elected to a seat on one of the suburban borough councils not many miles from Auckland. .Evidently, he is not looking for gratitude for his public services, and he made the position on this point clear in a characteristically laconic speech on the occasion ot the mayoral installation. •• Well, gentlemeD," he said, " I intend to do my best for the borough, and those who aren't satisfied can go to h ." It was enough.

The Hon. Jas. McGowan, speaking at the Coromandel Hospital demonstration, unbosomed himself of the remark that "one of the fundamental principles of Christianity was doing good to others." The Hon. James being a Minister, and consequently a Christian (in spite of the opinions of the stockbrokers), it is safe to assume tbut he will proceed to put his theory into practice and do good to others. What about making a start with the Thames deep levels ?

Frank Newel), the well - known Auckland sport, is now resident at Hamilton, Waikato, and his many friends will be pleased to hear that he is still well to the fore with bis gun. A prize of 100 rounds of ammunition was on offer by an enterprising Hamilton firm for the best bag obtained by local sportsmen on the opening day of tba present shooting season. Frank was dead on that prize, making an early start and returning late, weary but happy. Record— saw one duck, shot one shag, and drowned his dog. An easy first for the day, and when Frank recovers that shag the 100 rounds are his. What does brother Jim say?

Dear Observer, — Your reference to the career of the late Cappain W. J. Barry calls up some reminiscences of the early days on the Otago goldfields. Then Barry was a comparatively wealthy man — ever ready to enter into anything in the shape of a speculation, and always willing to help a brother digger in distress. When Mayor of Cromwell, Barry was proprietor of an extensive butchery business, and in connection therewith was a small farm, famous tor its breed of pedigree pigs. At that time, the late Sir George Grey, who was then Governor of New Zealand, paid a visit to Cromwell, where he was received and entertained by the Mayor and town councillors. During a desultory conversation, the Mayor chimed in with : "Never mind those old buffers, Sir George, but come and see my Scarlett pigs."

Barry took a prominent part in politics, and his influence was sought for by politicians of every creed and colour. At an ordinary triennial general election there was every prospect of a very hot contest between thu late Vincent Pyke and another candidate for political honours named— well— -Scroggins. Barry was working hard in the interest of the former, and the electorate, being a very scattered one, necessitated a lot of travellingfoot, horse, and coach. Upon one occasion Bradtey's coach capsized with the redoubtable Pyke underneath. Barry, who was the first man to recover the shock, had one look at the unconscious body of his favourite candidate, and then roared out : "By Heavens, Scroggius will get in after all !" — Yours, Aboriginal.

Alfred G. Strong, a motorman giving evidence before the Arbitration Court, expressed his valuable opinion that learners were a " bloorain' nuisance," and that it all depended on the humour he was in whether he took a learner on or not. As a matter of fact, Alfred G. Strong was, on occasions, condescending enough to teach a beginner the way he should go. Once upon a time, however, Alfred G. Strong must have been himself a learner, and probably had the gentleman under whose auspices he was instructed into the mysteries of electricity not been " in the humour " to show Alfred G-. Strong a thing or two, Alfred G. Strong aforesaid might not now be in. a position to pick and choose his own particular humours. Reciprocity is not altogether without its uses.

Byron Squire, one of the unsuccessful aspirants for a seat on the Grey Lynn Borough Council, has an idea in bis head for the simplification of elections, which idea he propounded to the Hon. George Fowlds. Byron Squire, it seems, wants the candidates' names printed in a circle, so that there would be no top or bottom name. " Thoughtless voters," explains the Squire, " cast their votes in favour of the first names on the paper, while those at the bottom are overlooked." Mr Squire's name begins with an S, consequently, he is at the bottom. Thererore, he is overlooked. Ergo, he is also at the bottom of the poll. Hut if Mr Squire's name happened to begin with A, would he be so anxious to alter things ? .For then, of course, thoughtless voters would vote for Mr Squire, and Grey Lynn would be saved.

Appears that Blanch Arral. the tuneful singist, possesses, among other belongings, a hubby who is an amateur weight-lifter. Said hubby's name is Hedold Bassett. • Herold recently assisted some fatuous porters at a railway station by airily annexing a small item of lup^age weighing some three cwt., and waving it about with one hand. Also, he had a quiet conversation with a superlatively large rog, which was inclined to sample the leg of a citizen, and, after the conversation was finished, the dog was quite pained to find that its neck was broken. Any time that things are bad ? Herold can always rely upon getting a job as chucker-out of spring poets, or something of that sort.

W. H. Henries, M.H.R. for Bay of Plenty, is, in a political sense, a very dismembered individual. Under the new boundaries, his district is merged into three electorates. If he folio us Waihi into Ohinemuri, he must abandon Tauranga and Opotiki, and if he remains true to the farmers, he must turn his back on the miners, which he is very loth to do. Mr Herries is a difficult man to beat in an election contest, for which reason individuals with covetous gaze fixed on the divided electorate would very much like to know his intentions. But Mr Herries is not to be drawn. Like Brer Rabbit, he prefers to lie low in the meantime, and though probable candidates are casting straws on the political waters to detect the course of the current, and Ministers are giving his district affectionate attention, he smiles discreetly and says nothing. W. H. Herries would make a successful diplomat.

J.erry Lundon does not believe in allowing tbis mortal lite to become monotonous. Without the joys of an occasional row, existence, to the jocular Jerry, would be a blank. Consequently, when William Johns, with the perver.-ity and recklessness of youth, went and had himself nominated for the Parnell Borough Council, Jerry Lundon swore to get there, too, or perish in the attempt. But where is Frank Pitt that he also is not in the contest ? Perchance his well known secretarial powers have been enlisted on behalf of William Johns. Anyway, I'aruell people should certainly support the Lundon - Johns ticket, for with these two hardy -yarriors on the Council, life would indeed be made brighter, and "Borough Clerk Ben Gilmer's benevolent smile would become more pronounced than ever. Ask J. W. Shackelford about Jerry's capabilities. He knows.

Farmer Whyte is ihe name of the new sub-editor of the Herald, in succession to Norman Burton. He is a well-known New South Wales journalist, having been associated with the Sydney Daily Telegraph for twelve years, and having held other positions in connection with the press of that State. Mr Whyte arrived from Sydney this week.

P. A. Vaile, the authority on all things from road-making to tennis, has lately been occupying his valuable time in throwing mud at the proposed town hall. But would it not have been as well if P. A. Vaile had been as wise before as after the event' He knew what site had been selected for the hall, but he carefully refrained from saying a word until a design had been selected. Given any building, the formation of the site would have prevented the erection of anything but a three-cornered structure. P. A. Vaile may be a great man according to the London Daily Mail, but a prophet hath no honour in his own country, and even the great P. A. V. is unable to reply to the scorching strictures of meie local scribes like Dr Bakewell. Capital i's are not the whole essence of literature.

Leonard Robertshaw, the versatile literary genius who directs the destinies of an embryo London Times in Waihi, is secretly and modestly laying to heart the scriptural advice anent removing the beam in your own eye • before endeavouring to pick out that in your brother's. The other paper in Waihi misplaced a linotype slug, which is a common enough error in newspapers, but which, nevertheless, made nonsense of a paragraph. Whereupon, Leonard improved the occasion with a halfcolumn homily on the other fellow's blundering incapacity and his own immaculate perfection. But, a day or two later, when the Hon. J. A. Millar delivered his address in Waihi, Leonard headed a column report with the bold black line, "Hon. Mr McNab's Address," and followed this up with another heading " Vote of

thanks to Mr McNab." But the context made no allusion to Mr McNab. It was solely a report of the Millar speech. Leonard, in a humble and contrite spirit, approached James Wrigley, the rival scribe, to explain matters. " Don't bother to apologise, old chap," said James, with an angelic smile. "It was in your paper, wasn't it? Well, don't worry. .No one will see it."

Judge Kettle says we want rules and regulations in the control of the Auckland harbour. Just as if we have not got them. Why, the laws of the Auckland Harbour Board are sufficient to fill a good sized library. But that doesn't matter. Mr Napier has had a twelve months' rest in England, and is feeling fit and well, and when he has powdered Mayor Jbandley into particles of sand for his encouragement of vandalism at Jiv Admiralty reserve*, he may safely be depended upon to take the Kettle hint and fill up several more volumes of rules and regulations. Why not a law to compel the ferry boats to repeat that Kailway Wharf steam snort every hundred yards of the trip so as to keep the Devonport children in a state of perpetual hysterics?

List, oh, list to the tuneful voice of the poetical Mr McFadden. Says the McFadden :—

TMPORTANT.-Will the chap who was in J. charge of labourer at Tirau kindly communicate with Mr McFadden, Victoria-street. Onehunga. '

Is " the chap " listening, and will " the chap " answer to his name when called for? In this democratic community, where the suffix "Esquire" is the rule rather than the exception, 'tis refreshing to meet with a gentleman like Mr McFadden, of Onehunga. But will "the chap" think likewise? And what will the " labourer" of whom " the chap " was presumably in charge think of Mr McFadden's uncompromising eloquence. Now, if Mr McFadden would only step round to Arthur-street and interview the courtly Dr Bakewell, " the chap " and the " labourer " might be converted into something else.

Chairman Jenkin, of the Arch Hill Road Board, is wrathful. The arch Arch Hillians, it seems, want Paul Hapsen to mend his 'evil ways and cease labelling their cars " Grey Lynn." What, they demand to know, has Grey Lynn got to do with them ? " We," mutters Chairman Jenkin, "give the company all they want, and they give us nothing." True, indeed. The company appear to get all they want — and sometimes more — from every road board and Council in the place. Paul Hansen, however, being a meek and forgiving individual, turns the other cheek to the smiter. But in this case Paul has no puny City Council to deal with. It is the Arch Hill Road Board which is speaking, so it is safe to assume that Paul has ordered in an extra gallon or two of ink and a few reams of paper in order to calm the restless Jenkin and Co, Ho I jolly Jenkin ! .