PARS ABOUT PEOPLE

Observer, Volume XXVIII, Issue 49, 22 August 1908, Page 4

PARS ABOUT PEOPLE

FKANK THOMSON, the energetic private secretary to the Hon. J. A. Millar, ia the boul of chivalry where members of the fair sex are concerned, but an awful experience that he had after the Governor's ball last week has probably caused him to swear oft ever again undertaking the duties of chaperone. Three Wellington girls had arranged to go to the ball under the guardianship of caaperones. The latter wished to return home at midnight, but, as they did not desire to curtail the enjoyment of the younger people, it was arranged that Frank Thomson should escort the girls back to the Grand Hotel, where it was understood that rooms were reserved for them. Frank undertook the charge lightheartedly, little dreaming what manifold trials and tribulations were in store for him.

After the ball, Frank dutifully escorted his fair charges to their cab, and had them driven to the Grand Hotel. Here he rang the bell, and joyfully concluded that his responsibilities were ended. But alas for the frailty of human hopes. The night porter looked askance at the bevy of fair ones, and confided to the horrorstricken Frank the awful fact that he knew nothing about rooms having been reserved for the ladies, and also that the house was full up. Also, he was quite sure that wherever the ohaperones might be, they weren't there.

Frank scratched his intellectual poll and cogitated over the desperate situation. Finally, he decided to arouse the Hon. J. A. Millar (who was staying at that hotel), and seek his advice. The Minister for Labour knew nothing about the matter, but he had heard a boarding house mentioned where he thought that Frank could doubtless find the chaperones. Frank hastily bundled the ladies back into the cab, and they drove to the boarding house, into which they were admitted by a sleepy night porter, who immediately and mysteriously disappeared, leaving them standing in a dark and draughty passage.

However, Frank lit the gas, showed his charges into a sitting room, and went in pursuit of that night porter. He caught him, and pathetically appealed to him for rooms for the ladies. The porter admitted that one bedroom was Tacant, and the ladies having expressed their entire willingness to share it between them, were escorted thither by the porter. Frank, breathing fervent thanks to Providence, as somewhat inadequately represented by the porter, bade his fair convoy good-night, gallantly opened their bedroom door for them, and departed. The ladies entered the room, and the first Bight that met their eyes was a nasty, horrid man peacefully slumbering in one of the beds.

The choras of giggles and screams that resulted brought the unfortunate Frank back. Driven to desperation, he woke the landlady. It then turned out that the chaperones had really engaged rooms there, but as the said chaperones hadn't arrived by midnight, the rooms had been let to somebody else, and the chaperones, on arrival, had had to seek other quarters. They had, so the landlady said, mentioned that they were going to appeal for accommodation at ths mansion of a well-known Princesstreet magnate.

Once more the afflicted Frank, stifling the aweet somethings with which his manly chest was overloaded, handed the ladies into the cab and bade the indignant cabbie drive to the mansion mentioned by the landlady.

On arrival there it was discovered that the front gate of the premises was so securely fastened against fleet week burglars that Frank was driven to the dire necessity of scaling the fence, to the detriment of his nether garments. Also, on dropping down on the other side, he encountered the family watch dog, which sagacious animal appeared to entertain grave doubts of Frank's intentions. However, the latter bravely aroused the household, and found the chaperones but every inch of space in that mansion was full.

The magnate, however, referred Frank to another mansion in the same street, and Frank, having once more placed the girls in the cab, persuaded a somewhat profane jehu to drive thither. On arrival there, he found, to his exceeding great joy, that his charges could be accommodated, and, just as the sun was rising, Frank found himself relieved of his onerous duties, and tumbled thankfully into bis little> bed at the Grand Hotel. He has foresworn the duties of chaperone from henceforth and forevei more.

By the death of K. W. Hammond, which occurred last week, the Waikato district has lost one of its oldest and most respected identities. Mr Hammond was one of the pioneer settlers in the Waikato. He was a sterling

sportsman, and it was mainly through his energy that the Waikato Turf Club was originally formed. He also did much to improve the breed of horses by importing " Derby," the first blood stallion that was ever brought into the Waikato district.

The famous trotting race between Mr Hammond and Major Nelson George is still remembered by the older residents of the Waikato. This was in the seventies. Mr Hammond had a trotting pony named "Tommy Dodd," of which he was very proud. Major George also had a pony, and a match was arranged between the two for £50 a side. The race was run from Hamilton to Cambridge, and Mr Hammond's pony, which was the winner, did Ihe distance in the record time of 52 minutes.

By the Hammond Family "Tommy Dodd" was looked upon as one of themselves, and when that celebrated pony went the way of all horse flesh, he was provided with an honoured grave and a tombstone, upon which the following apposite inscription was carved : —

" Here lies the pony Tommy Dodd, A better pony ne'er was shod. Rest, Tommy, rest, your toils are over ; Well you earned your oats and clover."

Undoubtedly, the most regrettable feature of fleet week was the manner in which Sir Richard Poore, Com-mander-in-Chief of the Australasian Squadron, was insulted. The first insult was the demand said to have been made by the harbour master that Sir Richard should shift the Powerful in order to make room for a Yankee warship. Insult number two came about in connection with the procession fiasco. Some executive genius had evolved a plan, that a company of bluejackets was to be landed from the Powerful. • This might have been all right only for the fact that it was also arranged that the British bluejackets were to follow humbly in the rear of the Americans. • • a

But the crowning insult of the lot was the cool proposal that on the arrival of the American fleet outside the harbour, the Powerful should steam out and follow in at the rear of the Yankee boats. It is said that when this calm request was conveyed to Sir Richard Poore, he promptly retorted that the British navy would follow the navy of no other nation in peace time — a remark that is well worthy of immortalisation. As it was, the unfortunate little Amokura had to act the part of flunkey to the American ships, and steamed in shamefacedly at the tail end of the big white fleet.

If H. G. Balethorpe, secretary tothe fleet committee, did not carry out his duties with any vast degree of brilliance, he has certainly distinguished himself by perpetrating oneof the most original and peculiar advertisements that the mind of man could imagine. Here it is : — TJEPABTURE OF A M ERIC AN pLEET

Members of the General Committee antf their wives or substitutes, » ho are desirous of witnessirg the departure of the Fleet, are requested to assemble at the Northern Steamship Company's Wharf, Quay-street, on SATURDAY MORNING, at 7.80 o'clock sharp, to accompany them as far as the North Head. All members are requested to be present. H. G. PALBTHORPE, Secretary. Are) the members of the General Committee in the habit of instituting substitutes in place of their wives? Judging by the list of names of members, we should think that they are all respectable citizens, but this advertisement would seem to imply otherwise. H. G. Falethorpe's advertising masterpiece certainly deserves to be handed down to posterity as a pearl of great price.

Mr William Jennings, M.P., writes as follows : "To the Editor Observer, Dear Sir, — You have evidently not folly understood the object of my asking in the House that opportunity should be given to New Zealanders residing abroad being assisted by the Government to return to the Dominion. I shall not enter into the wide field that you touch on in your article in last week's issue in regard to wasters, etc. That is raising an issue that was never in my mind, and as you have applied ib to our New Zealand-born now residing in other lands, does it ever strike you, sir, that there are wasters coming to this country from various parts of the world at the present time ? All that my question involved was that New Zealand-born residing in other parts of the world, should receive assisted passages the same as those given to other persons.

"As a matter of fact, I know some of < our own people,' who left in thousands during the depressed period of 1888-9, and who now reside in various parts of the Commonwealth, would come back to their native land if the expense of transit was not so great. It costs more to come from the goldfields in Western Australia than it doea to come from Great Britain to New Zealand. You do not know these people, otherwise you would not have applied the term ' wasters ' so freely to the New Zealander. I confess to having < a bee in my bonnet ' so far as our native-born is concerned, and, if we want population, they are as good as others that are invited to our shores, and are being assisted by the Government."

Where did William J. Napier come in during the celebrations of Fleet week ? This is the sort of occasion that gives a man a chance, and W. J. was not in it. And the sad part of the business is that he might so easily have been in it up to his neck. If, for instance, he had never meddled with fire-floatß and Admiralty Houses, etc., he might have been in Teddy Mitchelson's shoes last week. Or, if he had stuck to volunteering he might have been riding about on a fiery charger at the head of Auckland's army in the place of General Reed or Field-Marshal Holgate. Or, better still, if he had played the political game a little more shrewdly, he might have been in the place of the great Sir Joe .himself. It is plain that, politically speaking, William J. has missed the 'bus. ■ ■ >

Ernest D. Hoben, the muscular Christian who runs the Palmerston " Times," Has a deep grudge against the Auckland Rugby Union. He went to Saturday s match at Potter's on an errand combining business with pleasure, and in obedience to the call of the first of these he went into the committee lxom (or Press room) to write a lament for the fall of his friends of the Empire City. It may have been unwise to enter the room ; it was certainly foolish of him to hang his hat up while he wrote, especially as that hat was a five and twenty shilling Stetson. For when he came away he had to content himself with the sort of tile you may buy in Karangahape Road for one and elevenpence. • • m

Everybody agrees that the " Commissioner " busiziess was just a trifle too much in evidence last week. Messrs Hamer and Donne are very estimable public functionaries, and extremely popular in private life, but one does get a little tired of seeing their prepossessing countenances in every newspaper, guide book and post card —even though those countenances are sustained and adorned by the neatest haberdashery and tailoring. After all the public is not concerned with the personality of the Commissioners, but with their work — which to them really meant a holiday on full pay with a generous scale of ex'os. If it was really work, they shared it with Mr Moorhouse, who was a sort of sub-Commissioner,

and probably had somebody of lower rank to help him. "Why don't the illustrated papers and the Tourist Department guide books give us the phiz of Moorhouse and those below him ? And why, if it comes to that, don't they give us portraits of Palethorpe ?

The Reverend (soi-disant) Moreton Barnes, of Petone, has been giving it hot to the bloated millionaires of New Zealand because they refuse to advance to him the paltry sum of £100 wherewith to start a college for the teaching of Esperanto. He says they are swine, because they " turn and rend " the pearls of wisdom he offered to them. Fr-ru which it will appear that the Reverend Mr Barnes is not apt at Biblical quotation. He is also wild because somebody reported that he sent his children out begging. No wonder, because he is quite able to do all the begging himself. When he first came to Wellington last year ho worked on the system made immortal by the late Mr Montague Tigg. He waited on the mercantile and professional communities, and beginning with a sturdy request for a tenner, reduced his demands by easy and graceful stages to five shillings, even down to the humble bob. His unwilling patrons were generally glad to get rid of him when the half-crown period had been reached. At that time MiBarnes had in view the founding of a new religion, and as he has at various times professed many doctrines, it would probably come easy to him to compound a new set of dogmas. If the millionaires have failed him, however, his chances of success arc slim.

Fleet week held a double significance for Sir John Logan Campbell, for besides the arrival of the American fleet, it marked the arrival of the 68th anniversary of the 13th August, 1840, on which day Dr Campbell, as he then was, pitched his tent on the shore of the Waiteraata harbonr. Auckland then did not exist. The very name itself was unknown throughout the colony. Sir John was present at the birth and christening of the infant city, from which fact he derives his honoured title of "the Father of Auckland." Sir John, by the way, is now bordering on his 92ud birthday.

Mrs Mackay (" Katrine," of the Weekly News), who left the employment of that paper last Saturday to take a more responsible and lucrative position as lady editor of the New Zealand Times, was not allowed to depart empty-handed. Last Saturday, thf literary staff of the Herald and Weekly News presented her with a handsome dressing case, suitably inscribed. Editor Hackett, of the Weekly News, made the presentation in an oration that proved that sometimes the tongue is mightier than the pen. Mr F. Rollitt also orated in a manner that did credit to hie heart and tongue. Mrs Mackay's departure will be a distinct loss to the Weekly News, and a no less distinct gain to the Times.

William Field, M.P., recently informed the members of the House that there is unrest among mental hospital attendants " because they do not know at any moment what is going to happen." This is very sad, but unless Rua could supply the Government with a few prophets for lunatic asylum duty, it is hard to see how such a state of affairs can be remedied.

Town Clerk Simmons, of Coromandel is another individual whose recollections of fleet week are not all of the sweetest. There was a big crowd on board the boat that conveyed the fleeting Coromandelites to Auckland, and the town clerk, on disembarking, found that his portmanteau was nowhere to be seen. It was a new portmanteau, bought in honour of the occasion, which made its disappearance still more annoying. On the advice of one of the ship's officers, the town clerk kept a vigilant watch on the gangway while the passengers were going ashore, but he could see none of them bearing off that portmanteau. Evidently, it had been previously passed over the side. A search was made, and, sure enough, a portmanteau was discovered, but, after examining it, the town clerk declared that it wasn't his.

He saw the police, and they advised that he should have the disowned portmanteau broken open in order to ascertain to whom it belonged, as it was evident that the owner of it must have unintentionally walked off with the town clerk's possession. The town clerk acted upon this advice. The lock of the portmanteau was broken open, and the contents investigated. " Why," exclaimed the horrified town clerk, as he gazed upon some familiar garments, " these are my clothes right enough ; and I'll be jiggered," he added, as he took a more searching gaze at the exterior of the " sammy," " I'll be jiggered if it isn't my portmanteau too, after all."

It was another case of mistaken identity, and the discomfited town clerk walked oil' bearing a new portmanteau with a grievously injured lock.

The Hon. George Fowlds has recently blossomed out as a full - blown camera expert, a

fact that very nearly led to. his undoing on the occasion of the Par l liamentary trip over the Main Trunk Line. When the train arrived at the Ohakune viaduct, at daybreak, the Hon. George descended with his camera, faxed the tripod, and proceeded to take photographs. Unfortunately, when the Hon. George had his Ministerial head hidden in the focussing cloth, the train unkindly skedaddled and left him. Equally unfortunately, none of the party missed the Hon. George.

A mile or two further up the line, the engine stopped to water. This operation completed, it was about to proceed on its way, when a figure was observed coming helter-skelter along the road. Then, all of a sudden, it was discovered that the Hon. George was missing. Promptly, the engine was detached, steamed back, picked up the perspiring Minister of Education, and brought him back amid the cheers of the whole party. It was peculiarly fitting that a staunch Prohibitionist like the Hon. George Fowlds should owe his salvation to the fact that the engine stopped to take in water.

W. Mercutio Douglas was seen in earnest conversation with an American Jack Tar in Queen-street last Friday night. The following morning's Herald came out triumphantly with "A Final Interview with Admiral Sperry." Is this another case of cause and effect ?

One of New Zealand's finest soldiermen has fallen across hard times. This is Capt. C. P. Rogers, now chief staff officer for infantry duties in the Dominion. A while ago, Captain Rogers' eyes began to fail him, and it was feared for a while he might lose his sight. Up to a month or two ago he had excellent sight. Captain Rogers is the original regimental sergeantmajor of the First Contingent. He is never anything else to the few survivors of that little band. Before, he had been a 12th,Lancer man, and before this, strangely enough, he was an officer of marines. He has fought in many lands and is of splendid physique, never wears an overcoat, and despises coddling. No man under his command ever disobeyed him, and some people hope that if the undisciplined New Zealander ever has to be compulsorily trained, Captain Rogers will be the man to lick 'em into shape. The old warrior is at present on sick leave in Auckland.