PARS ABOUT PEOPLE

Observer, Volume XXXIII, Issue 13, 7 December 1912, Page 4

PARS ABOUT PEOPLE

HIS Excellency the Right Honourable John Dickson Poynder Dickson, First Baron Islington, K.C.M.G., D.5.0., Governor and Commander in Chief in and over His Britannic Majesty's Dominion of New Zealand and its dependencies, (deep breath), officially said good-bye to Auckland on Friday night in the Town Hall. The excellent Maughan Barnett treated the great organ with the utmost affection for half an hour and the workmanlike management did not permit anyone to butt in while Maughan was at it. Also, on his sample, there is no just cause or impediment why he shouldn't be city organist. His Worship the Mayor (chief magistrate of this citay) was most happay. He reviewed the Governors past and present, and perhaps one never heard that strange character, Captain Hobson, better thanked for having selected the site on which now stands this city. Mr Parr spoke quite nicely of the Imperialism of the Governors and checked them off as he did so. You may be surprised to know that Lord Plunket could not have been Governor of New Zealand, as Mr Parr didn't mention him, and that Lord Ranfurly seemed to be Lord Islington's immediate predecessor.

Of course all the Governors got a cheer, but Lord Ranfurly was easily first as the applause producer. Mr Massey sat like a benevolent statue on this occasion, being merely runner-up so to speak for champion honours. When he arose, squared his shoulders and expanded his chest, the applause was so great that the prize palms trembled. Noted, too, that Lady Islington applanded with great vigour. If Lord Islington is ever out of a job and wants a " character," he should let William know. Mr Massey lavished warm praise on the handsome figurehead (denying, by the way, that he was a " figure-head "), and generally inferring that he was the Bright and Morning Star, the Fairest of Ten Thousand, the Whitest Pebble on the Sweetest Beach, the Largest Apple on the Finest Tree on the sunniest side of the orchard, the greatest since the Great Pro-Consul, the Last Word in Governors. The retiring l Governor really did conceal his feeling excellently—for he has the very fine virtue of his class—perfect poise and undisturbable self-possession.

And when Lord Islington rose to say things and the applause had died away among the sparrows' nests in the roof, the silence was so profound you could have heard an acid drop or a waterfall. Lord Islington's largest assets for platform work are a graceful tact, a sonorous voice of which no syllable is lost, a fine military appearance, a calm demeanour, and a perfect restfulness that no single New Zealand politician possesses and might try to imitate with advantage. Lord Islington is not brilliantly oratorical, but he, nevertheless, without any cavil, is the first platform man New Zealand has, having learnt the art. The average New Zealand platform man has a vocabulary as devoid of illustration as a blank sheet of paper, and a belief that there are only about 150 words in the standard dictionaries. Lord Islington, on his last public apearance, was not notably discursive or unusually critical, atlhough it is quite certain he rides himself 'on the curb, and ■voald much rather be his true self than a restrained and tactful representative of an idea.

An anxious aide or secretary, believing that the Governor was about to forget that the venerable Major Lusk had read an address from the farmers, handed up a note as a reminder Lord Islington flicked the offending paper away with his finger. As a matter of fact, the Governor had intended making his reference to th» essential industries, his most telling item, and even though he explained the obvious, it is necessary that the obvious should be explained morning, noon and night, the average person believing that prosperity begins in towns and has nothing «to do with

sunburnt men and grubby sheep, fat cows, etc., expansive bullocks, clay, loam, manure, crops, meat, butter, £urn and milk.

The Town Clerk read the address the Governor in his most ecclesiastical way, and nobody (barring the Governor himself) was quite as interesting as Major Lusk, for whom the little row of aides rose like a section of soldiers on the word "Shun \" On the whole, the farewell was illustrative of the effort the average man makes to be extra specially unlike himself when a Governor is about, the calmness of Governors, and the fact that a crowd cheers violently at a catch-word that has done duty for ninety-five generations. Perhaps he of Islington may permit himself a chuckle at the effort, but as he can't confer distinctions—ah, well !

In earlier days, when a Parliamentary job was not so aristocratic as it is now that Messrs Glover, Dickson and Harris are in Parliament, a visiting Parliamentarian on a backblocks tour often earned his kai by helping with

the milking, or chopping wood, or nursing the baby. One authentic case shows that an M.H.R. lost the votes of a cocky, his wife and six grown sons by showing inability to shoe a horse. The Hon. James Allen can't shoe a horse, but that dear old chap, Rev. J. Crewes, the Wellington Zoo enthusiast, has asked him if he will kindly bring back from England a brown bear, a chimpanzee, and two pairs of swans, black and white. James, who does not, of course, know the state of the bear market, or if the price of chimpanzees has gone up, or whether the swan trade is brisk, has consented'to see what can be done. But James made it perfectly clear that this was a bad time to ask the Government to buy bears or to purchase chimpanzees or to acquire swans, so the Zoo authorities are not at all confident that Mr Allen will return with the menagerie in his charge. If anybody wants parcels of ironmongery, crockery, clothes, tinned goods or machinery brought from Home, they should get in their request before Mv Allen's portmanteaux are overloaded with zoological specimens.

Dropped into this office, Evelyn' Wrench, Organiser of the Oversea© Club, to explain that the club was a strictly non-party organisation for thepromotion of a better understanding between the scattered nations of the British Empire, that its only object was to create a feeling of unity between all the dominions, and to spread a knowledge of the capacities, products, needs and desires of the various countries which compose the EmpireHe further said that though Lord' Northcote, owner of the London "Daily Mail" and the rest of the Harmsworth productions, was Chairman of the Club's Council in London and gave the club free space in the " Mail's " weekly- edition, neither lienor anyone else stood to make profit of any sort out of the organisation. This explanation by Mr Wrench iis; given as amends for insinuating that the club' looked like an ingenious Harmsworth scheme.

Truth to tell, the youthful handsomeness of Mr Evelyn Wrench dazzled us—we had expected something imposingly corpulent and pompous, but the organiser, if ever he had' gone on the boards, would have made the average matinee idol suicide from jealous rage—only he isn't the type that produces actors. Dark, cleancut features and an alert suavity show him to be the sort of man whoshould carry ideals into politics. When he was told that as there was already a strong Imperial sentiment throughout the British Empire, he disagreed and pointed to Eastern Canada, with a self-centred population of French descent and speaking mostly French, to the states of the middle west, where the population was largely of American origin and where the ruling passion was to do the best deal in a land sale or with a crop of wheat, and to the large influence exerted by American literature in Canada. Then he said that there was a very large number of Africanders who were of Dutch descent and cared more for their own South Africa than for the maintenance of the Empire. No one could help seeing his point—so let it go at that !

Andrew Carnegie, well known as the person who humiliates this and other countries by throwing libraries tc them, lately said that America wasn't going to the " bow-wows" at all. He had a higher conception of the human race than even before. All millionaires in their dotage talk arrant nonsense of that type. There are at present 10,000 men on strike at Andrew's Pittsburg steel works. As Andrew isnot there at present, he will not be able to deal with the workers as he did aforetime—by paying armed "Pinkertons "to shoot them. Andrew's high conception of the human race in those days was that it was specially bred in Europe to be sent to Pittsburg to* make countless millions for himself and his gang, so that they might build reputations for philanthropy on the starving of European peasants. As a modern and fatted version of Milchesidic Howler, Andrew Carnegie easily beats his prototype.

After all, the way of the farmer can't be harder than that of the transgressor, for we have the amazing instance of two Stock Exchange members in the persons of E. G. Elliott and L. Horrocks dropping out of the game of snaring the nimble share and going on the land. This is certain evidence that a devout attention tocow, wheat, maize and potatoes is far more profitable than seeking to follow the methods whereby American bank clerks climb to affluence and influence. Henceforth their ears will not be affronted by the clamour »f our local' Bourse when Diminished Reefs fall with startling rapidity a penny below the previous day's price. Instead of the agony of strong men struggling in the grip of envious greed when Angry Feline shares rise to ninepence and everyone has a couple of million tounload, the gentle rustics will hear the pipe of birds, the wind among the oats, the soothing noise that cows make, and the rattle of the reaper and binder. Peace to the souls of Horrocks and Elliott—they will now be able to spend their spare time dabbling in " wheat futures," which, we believe, are far more exciting than gold mines. Anyway, it to be hoped that the wish of 'Change Chairman Buttle that they " would sometimes feel a longing for the old business life," doesn't come true. We don't like to see people lapse from virtue when once they have determined toreform..

Any complaints about Donald Robertson being appointed chief of the three Public Service Commissioners at a salary of ,£I3OO a year ? Mr Robertson is the soul of honour, and justice, he already has the affection of the public service, he is a creator as well as an administrator, and he has the rare faculty of being unable to recognise merit where none exists. Come to think of it, the chief of the post office, who is suddenly exalted into a supreme position in the civil service without the chance of veto by any politician or bureau, is assuming the most onerous job in New Zealand, and one that he will administer without fear or favour. A modest man who has never " pushed his barrow," a man who might have blushed unseen if that forerunner of his, the late Mr Gray, 1.5.0., had hot seen in him the genius for administration and calm executive ability that has been recognised by an acute Cabinet. Auckland claims some share in Mr Robertson's career, for in his earlier years he was mail-agent for the Auckland-San Francisco service, and indeed worked as senior Savings Bank official here from 1883 to 1892. Artistic souls remember that he was an enthusiastic painter, and was a member of Robert Atkinson's Mahlstick Club what time Frank and Walter Wright, T. L. Drummond, Feeney, and others, thumbed the palette in the same organisation. Perhaps Mr Robertson is proudest of the fact that his eldest son, always a brilliant boy, was the 1905 Rhodes Scholar.

Archdeacon Calder is a type of parson rare in this country, where the "thou shalt nots" are so numerous that the statutes would be much simplified if only they were made to state exactly what it is permissable to do. The small Archdeacon is not a firm believer in the value of prohibition and he doesn't think that human impulses are always evil. He declared a few days ago against those snuffling church people who believe that a boy is changed into something like a blood-lusting gladiator when put into a uniform and handed a rifle. He said that though his son was now a parson also he had previously been a cadet, and wasn't any the worse for it, and, though a parson, had knocked out nine men within the last eighteen months, though his weight didn't reach the ten-stone level. The old man said it with a gleam in his eye, as though he was recollecting the time

when he was a ready bantam with Ilib fists and given 'to handling out punishment to objectionable parties on the Thames. In his younger days the Archdeacon's objection to bad language or behaviour before women was quite as strong as it is now, and he used to invite the offender to apologise or take the alternative. As the Archdeacon is not even in the middleweight class, the alternative was usually accepted, with surprising results tor the acceptor. Pity we haven't more parsons ol this stamp that can declare emphatically against " that silly, wowsery feeling/

Always understood that Auckland's own impeccable critic and Shaw expounder, J. a: Montague, and journalist ±'rank Morton were so friendly that when they met they blocked the traffic being so busy patting each other on the back that they lorgot to move on. .but something disastrous must have happened since j. ±'. went to Wellington to separate the sheep trom the goats at the competitions. Scribe Morton was given the job oi recording his opinions oi the competitions in Wellington "Times" and his principal opinion seems to be that J. a. Montague can't judge elocution for nuts* that, in tact, he would display more than ordinary judgment if ne could distinguish between the comparative dramatic values of a steam siren and a windmill. Morton has generously pointed out where the judge has been absolutely wrong in nine cases out of ten, and has done it with a wealth of description which justifies the suspicion that Montague and Morton are no longer in periect amity.

Says the scribe : " It seems that the judging, and everything connected with the judging, is to continue deplorable, right up to the last. We can answer for one journalist who is heartily sick of the judging this year. It is the most amazing judging in Australasian experience. It would make Pahiatua blush." The suggestion that occurs to us is that C. N. Baeyertz doesn't approve of Mr Montague's awards, and that therefore, Morton, the scribe, is wrath that J. F. hasn't proved his merit. Apropos, it is interesting to note that some of the helpful criticism ladled out to performers by the scribe has brought down a bunch of protest upon the sheets of the " Times," and when Morton the scribe

said that the performance of one lady was "as graceiul as a cow coquetting with a tulip," even the gentle Edward Tregear was moved to angry disagreement and the "Times" was lorced to the ignominy of an apology.

W. Evans Young, the ruddy Aucklander, who has been "on the road" lor Messrs Archibald Clark and Co., for the past 18 years, will no longer be a familiar figure in the Waikato and on the ±Jast Coast. The fiat has gone iorth that he is to become warehouse manager in Wellington and he is consequently fracturing old assiciations with some regrets, for he has been well beloved by C.T.s both on the road, in the club, and elsewhere. Jirnie Garret is taking his place "on the road." Mr Young will be much missed up this end of the island as he is a great favourite.

God bless the Duke of Argyll ! He has said while presenting a New Zealand flag to a Scottish school that New Zealand will become mistress of the Pacific—and he ought to know ! George Douglas Campbell, Bth Duke of Argyll, Marquis of Lome, and Kmtyre, Earl Campbell and Cowal, Viscount of Lochow and Glemsla, etc., etc., etc., geologist, ornithologist, naturalist, artist, author and journalist, really ought to know, although he has never been on the ground. It is good to have the assurance of so distinguished a personage that neither Japan, nor America, Germany or China, Australia, or Java will ever dominate the Pacific, but that we few folk and our heirs and assigns will dominate the waves. Therefore we exclaim as did the people when his grace's distinguished forefather set up scratching posts for the people, " God bless the Duke of Argyll.'

The King's College boys are well disciplined and manage to control their sense of hhmour most admirably. This was,' exemplified a few nights ago when a sort of capping ceremony happened in the school gymnasium, at which headmaster Stuckey and the wife of the principal bossed the arrangements. As a reward of merit a large bunch of boys tvere

awarded special caps signifying that tney had attained honour in their own school Xhe boys were lined up in the back 01 the gymnasium, the throne ot distrioution was close to the door at tne iront and the intervening space was tilled with prideiul relatives. Headmaster Stuckey called the name oi a boy, the boy marched stiffly selfconscious down to the desk, received tne cap xrom the gracious hands ot tne jrrincipie's lady, and retreated amidst applause to the back, where he promptly disappeared out oi the back uoor. it was noticed that occasionally headmaster Stuckey seemed a trifle disturbed and delayed the announcement of the next cap claimant, out always before the strain became unbearable, a long arm, sometimes accompanied by a grinning face, gingerly pushed a cap in through the iront uoor, headmaster Stuckey grabbed it, thrust it at the distributer, and the ceremony moved once more. It was a pity that there were only five caps to oe distributed amongst such a bunch oi boys, but it was managed all right and the admiring relatives in the iront rows got some additional amusement.

Treasury-Secretary J. W. Poynton's resignation is assured, for Finance Minister Allen says there is no doubt that Mr Poynton has been very ill and that "the seclusion of an office is not suited to him," and "it is quite possible there may be a change." Rumoured in Wellington recently that the impending resignation of Joseph William Poynton was due to a difference of opinion between him in his capacity of Secretary to the Treasury, and his new Ministerial bosses, but illness. is quite likely to be the real reason for the retirement, for Joseph has been a sick man for years. He will meet his fifty-first birthday next Wednesday, for he was born in Victoria in 1861, came to this country at the early age of three, was admitted as a barrister 28 years later, became stipendiary magistrate at Invercargill in 1895, was appointed Public Trustee in 1900, and subsequently to the job he is now about to relinquish. He is a good officer lost, but there is no doubt that a prolonged spell from work will, tighten his grip on this world.