PARS ABOUT PEOPLE

Observer, Volume XXVII, Issue 48, 17 August 1907, Page 4

PARS ABOUT PEOPLE

THE strenuous Dr Stopford is probably perfectly sure by this time tbat organising a concert is not all beer and skittles. The doctor was anxious to add to the lißt of patrons the name of a certain high dignitary of the Anglican Church. Therefore, in order to save time, he resorted to the use of the 'phone and rang that dignitary up. The reply was that the dignitary would, like a Cabinet Minister, keep the matter steadily in view, and would ring up the doctor in the course of a couple of hours and give him his decision. The two hours went by, and no reply came. Then the doctor grasped the 'phone again. This time the dignitary's wife answered the summons. The dignitary, it appeared, was bußy, and couldn't come to the 'phone, but the doctor elicited a proraise to the effect that, as soon as he was at leisure, the matter would be attended to.

Again time went on, and again no hail came to the doctor from the dignitary. Finally, the Lancastrian blood of the stalwart Stopford rose to a height that was guaranteed to explode the strongest thermometer in Mr Pond's stock. The doctor grabbed the handle of the 'phone and gave a ring that made all the girls in the exchange seize their back hair convulsively and jump ten feet in the air. Once more the dignitary's wife answered the call. "Dr Stopford is speaking," said the doctor, as he man--1 ully strove to subdue his emotions. " Kindly tell Mr So-andSo that the concert committee have reconsidered the matter, and have decided not to ask, him to extend his patronage to the affair." - Then he once more drove the telephone girls to the verge of hysterics with a violent ring-off, and retired with that grim smile which the City Council has learnt to look upon with awe.

Has Mr George Musgrove been tempting providence by walking under ladders, or killing a black cat, or wearing, a peacock's feather in his hat ? Certainly, his opera season here has not been marked by any great degree of good fortune. Financially, it may have worked out all right, but otherwise fate seems to have been against him. Apart altogether from sudden indisposition on the part of singers, there have been other unfortuate circumstances. For instance, hardly had be decided to prolong the season for six nights more than a spell of exceedingly wet weather set in. Then something went wrong with the electric light, and a production of " Tannhauser" was somewhat marred by the substitution of gas. Fate has not been kind to Mr Musgrove here, let us hope it will be kinder in the South. Enterprise deserves better treatment.

But Mr Musgrove prides himself on one stroke of luck, at any rate. This is that be has. been able, to acquire the services of Fraulien Carlo tta Bonche. Ashe himself says, wbo would have thought that in a small town like Auckland be would bave been able to find an artiste capable of taking leading parts in grand opera. Yet this artiste came to light in Carlotta Bouche, and Mr Musgrove at once offered her an engagement in his company, wbich she accepted. Fraulien Bouche must have been hiding her light under a bushel (no pun intended) for, so far as recollection serves, she has not been greatly in evidence oh the local concert platform. Under the Musgrove regime, Bt*e should have a liright career before her.

George Patrick Murray (otherwise known as '• Paddy") i& some inches taller than be was. last week. This is owing to the fact that he actually succeeded in conquering the spirit pf a fiery, untamed conductor. Paddy, was on a Newmarket car, and, wishing to be put down, at a certain street running off Khyber Pass road (call it Blank-street), he made known his wish to that haughty conductor. Therefore, Paddy was somewhat surprised when that car shot past the street in question without slackening speed. He summoned tbe conductor and inquired into matters, only to find that the haughty conductoi had no time to waste over mere passengers. Consequently, Paddy was carried on to Newmarket. But he had no idea of walking back to his destination. Accordingly, when the car reached the Newmarket terminus and started back city-wards, Paddy was still a passenger.

Along came that conductor to collect the fares, and he was greatly pained and shocked wben Paddy refused to pay. Patrick pointed out that on the outward journey he had asked to be put down at Blank-street, but the car had not stopped ; therefore he did not intend to pay another fare. Furthermore, he pointed out, until the motorman saw fit to stop at Blank street, he (Paddy) would ride in that car without paying another fare. The conductor fetched an inspector, wbo was foolish enough to threaten Paddy with instant ejection unless he cashed up. Then there was wrath. " Eject me !" snorted Paddy, with his biceps " wisibly swellin'." "All right, you go ahead and do it !" The inspector didn't do it, nor did he try to do it, and Paddy, without further expostulation on the part of the conductor, was given a free ride back to Blank-street.

Miss A. L. A. Murcutt, billed as the world-wide traveller, lecturer and writer, who is lecturing here at present, is severe on the House of Lords and the aristocracy generally. This comes well from a lady who is stated to be the accredited representative of the paper known as M.A. P., a paper which is almost exclusively devoted to chronicling the sayings and doings of the English aristocracy.

C. H. Poole evidently does not mind labouring a point in order to get in some of his " dry humour." He recently stated that the Te Aroha started out from Auckland on April Ist, " a significant date," he added, " which stood for the fooling which could be carried on when confiding men were being dealt with." He added that she left port on a Sunday. Now, April lst happened to fall on a Monday, therefore, according to Mr Poole, the Te Aroha left port one day before she started. Mr Poole claims to be an Irishman. In view of his utterance bn the Te Aroha business, his claim is certainly admissable. But why go to such lengths in order- to drag in a hackneyed "joke" about All F00I&' Day.

It appears that Father Hayes is not dead, after all — at least, not the Father Hayes who toured this colony. The Father Hayes who died is a priest of higher rank in the Jesuit Order. This is consoling, but the fact remains that many of the pledges which" were solemnly taken when Father -Hayes Was here are not only dead, but buried.

Arthur Rosser's elephantine attempts at diplomacy and finance are too funny for anything. Arthurmade the portentous announcement at the last meeting of the Trades and Labour Council that Mr Walklate had left for Wellington, and that he (Arthur) had wired to placid Poole stating that Mr Walklate wanted watching. This conjures up pleasant visions of City West's only Poole earning his £300 a year by dodging round lamp-posts ih watching the wary Walklate, and thus carrying out the behests of the Trades and Labour Council. It is to be hoped that the placid Poole did not have towalk late, and thus lose bis placidity in carrying out these Sherlock Holmeslike commands.

"Mr Walklate," says the mysterious Arthur, "left for Wellington very quietly." It appears that Arthur bad his eagle eye ou the passenger list and saw Paul Hansen's name there, but not that of Mr Walklate. Consequently, Arthur wondered whether Mr Walklate was travelling under Paul Hansen's name. It" is sad to shatter such a mystery, but the fact is that the Northern Company received a 'phone message from Mr Hansen ask- , ing them to reserve a berth. They did so, and, knowing that Mr Hansen was speaking, the clerk took out the berth in his name,, although in reality it had been reserved foir Mr Walklate. There was. no toy Btery "about tie ih atter whatever, but it would not be irrelevant to ask if Mr Arthur Rosser^ is judging other people by ; himself. Tt? is sad to think that Arthur Rosser's amateur detective proclivities have ~ thus been nipped in the bud.

The earthly remains of Charles Otho Montrose, once a very well-known journalist, but more recently attached to what might be regarded as the retired list, were laid in tbeir last resting place in Karori Cemetery, Wellington, on Saturday, in tbe presence of a small but representative gathering of pressmen. Most of tbe recent generation of newspaper men have seen very little of C. O. Montrose, and have known scarcely anything of his former capacity for writing, beyond hearsay. But there was a time when he was one of the best all round pressmen in the colony. Mothing came amiss to him, whether it was breezy paragraphs, topical rhyme, shorthand reporting, leader writing, or the working up of a good sensation.

Present writer first met him away back in the seventies, when he was sub-editor of tbe Auckland Star, under T. W. Leys, and when be was probably at bis best. At that time, he was a smart man who could get away from C. O. Montrose with earliest news of anything, from a tea-fight to a Cabinet crisis. C. O. Montrose first made his mark in journalism by his letters from the front when he was a foot soldier serving with one of the regiments of the line in the Maori War. He was a man of studious habits, and in bis spare time on the field, acquired speed in the art of shorthand. With the aptitude he had shown for writing, the transition from battlefield to the office of the Daily Southern Cross was easy and natural. It is interesting to observe that D. M. Luckie, who was preaent at the funeral last Saturday was editor of the Southern Cross in Montrose's time, nearly forty years ago.

Montrose was sub-editor of several Auckland papers, and also editor of the Observer, and even ran a paper of his own in the Waikato. His first acquaintance with Wellington was as parliamentary special for the Auckland Star in the later 'seventies, but he has done much writing for the local papers since then, and that city was his permanent place of residence for the last ten years. When Sir George Grey made his final trip to England, Montrose accompanied him in the capacity of private secretary, and returned to the colony a year or two later as business manager to a musical lady who toured this colony His life was an adventurous and strenuous one.

Miss Ada L. Murcutt spent half-an-hour last bunday afternoon in telling her No-License audience how they could become heroes. According to her, true heroism is made of a series of small beneficent or selfsacrificing acts. Then Ada illustrated her argument by narrating that during a railway trip in America, she was passing through one of the carriages, on her way to the Observation car, to enjoy the wondrous scenery, when she noticed a solitary young man evidently in the last stage consumption, seated in a corner, with a closed letter in his hand, apparently ioo weak to open and read it. Her first impulse was to speak to him, but on reflection, she decided to view the scenery, ani speak to him as she returned. Returning through the carriage later on, she saw the poor consumptive, still in his corner, holding the unopened letter. His brow was bathed in perspiration.

Again she was on the point of addressing him, and again she deferred doing so, and passed on. About two hours later, she learned that tho young man was dead. What she had taken to be merely perspiration had been the death dew on his brow, Then she reflected how comforting it would probably have been to some far distant mother or other relative if someone had spoken to the lonely invalid in his last moments and been able to send a message to his relatives. The story is pathetic, but how was it that Ada failed, on this occasion,, to carry out those principles of heroism which she was impressing upon her audience ? On this point Ada was silent, with a silence that seemed to be felt by the hearers.

Chief Immigration Officer J. E. March says that the class of passengers on the Papanui, which recently arrived at Wellington, was very good. Agriculturists predominate, and there are only a few mechanics. This will be good news to the trades unionists, but judging from the last few issues of the labour journal, mechanics and artisans are at present badly needed . It is a notorious fact that the supply of such tradesmen as bricklayers and carpenters is by no means equal to the demand. This may suit the ideas of the trades unionists, but where do the employers come in ?

Another injustice to Ireland ! Dr Hay, Inspector-General of Hospitals, remarks in his report that each Irish mentally-afflicted person costs the colony 12s 7£d per annum, as against 6s llfd with the Scotch, and 6s l|d witb the English. The doctor does not explain whether the Irish gentlemen eat more, or how the extra cost comes in, but surely he could knock off the odd farthing. It is not right that he should thus add to the woes of the disthressful country.

Once more, what's in a name? An individual named Single was recently brought before the Magistrate's Court at Gisborne on a charge of failing to maintain his wife and eight children. So' far from being single, that gentleman appears to be very much married.

David Christie Murray, the novelist, who recently died, was well-known in New Zealand — especially in the South, lie came out on a lecture tour through Australasia about 1889, and at the Princess Theatre in Dunedin he introduced his first play, "Chums." Mr Murray, by - the - way, during his New Zealand tour, had the pleasure of reading his own obituary notice published in the Home papers It was 25 years ahead of its time, but it is just as well for a newspaper to be up-to-date and a little ahead. You never know what may happen.

Claude L. Jewell, who has left the staff of the Wellington Free Lance to hecome a reporter on the New Zealand Times staff, is well known in Auckland. Originally a law clerk at the Upper Thames, he joined the First Contingent at the time of the Boer war. He varied the monotony of bagging whiskered and highly respectable Boers by writing descriptive letters to the New Zealand papers. At the time, these letters attracted considerable attention owing to their pith and humour, and when the literary warrior came back to the colony he found a congenial billet on the staff of the Observer. 1nJ.901 he was transferred to the Free Lance, and since then he has been its sub editor, patting in si erling work. Mr Jewel] is a prince <>f good fellows, and deserves every good fortune.

W. T. Wynyard, better known as " Tabby," has left the Waiheathehs disconsolate. Tabby has for some time been inspector of abattoirs at Waihi, but he was recently transferred to a position on the staff of the Chief Inspector of Stock, and Wellington will be his abiding place for the future. Tabby is a member of that football tamily which did so much to build up the strength of the native team that toured the Old Country in the days of auld lang syne. What's more, there's no reason to suppose even now that he's a " has been." Any length of residence among the whirling gaieties and excitements of the Waiheathen city is apt to keep a man in good condition.

Sir Joseph Ward has promised the farmers that the tick danger will be enquired into. Tbere is a feeling amongst some of the shop-keepers that they also would like to be protected from the " tick " danger. This is a form of "tiust" that even the Hon. J. A. Millar is powerlessjagainst.

The official flag of the Royal Hotel ought certainly to have been at halfmast last week. The Royal has suffered a bereavement. ■ Honest John Morrison, the erstwhile worthy host, has deserted the Royal to take possession of the Metropolitan. Naturally, such an event could not be permitted to pass unnoticed, and the staff of the establishment rose to the occasion. Using Mr Tooman as their mouthpiece, they presented honest John with an illuminated address as a mark of appreciation of the considerate manner in which tney 1 had always been treated by Mr and Mrs Morrison. To Mrs Morrison they also presented a handsome case of toilet brushware. Furthermore, friends and acquaintances of the worthy host and hostess rallied round and presented them,through Mr Macmahpn, with a purse of sovereigns and any amount of good wishes. All these good things were well deserved, for honest* John Morrison, is a beau ideal boniface. He is the stamp of man that raises the tone of hotel-keeping to a high level. ■ • W© could do with more like him in the same line,