THE FRETFUL PORCUPINE

Observer, Volume XXXVII, Issue 15, 16 December 1916, Page 16

THE FRETFUL PORCUPINE

IF the war lasts another seven years there is a probabilty that

some of the present ingenious arrangements for wasting money will be noticed by somebody. Then an eye may be given to the tremendous expenditure in fitting up troopships. Under the British regulations certain things are. required and are provided at great expense in England! Then the ship arrives in Australia, and, the Australian regulations requiring other things, the ship is pulled to pieces, and the fittings which were put in at the start of the voyage, are pulled out. On the other side the Australian fittings are pulled out and the British regulations complied' with over again. So the dreadful expenditure goes on. What a game! You might call it battle(ship)dore and shuttlecock.

"Onlooker" writes from Thames: When Bret Harte wrote "For ways that are dark and for tricks that are vain the heathen Chinee is peculiar," he hadn't, struck a New Zealand policeman. In the days of our youth we believed Bret Harte. In our old age and riper experience we find that a disguised policeman from the wilds of Cork can beat the Chinaman hollow. A gentleman of the latter description has lately visited Thames in the interests of morality, to put down shouting and make an example of those contravening the "Illegal Treating Act." Through very clever and unscrupulous methods ha has succeeded in trapping quite a number of good, steady old publicans and many good but rather restive) and some innocent citizens. His methods were unique. He was a man you might meet in the street, belonging to the nondescript class, that one would take no notice of, and would not know if one met him again, five minutes after. He took on the role of a man who wanted to buy a farm, went mooching round with

another of the same kidney acting as "Man Friday," and would get into conversation with perhaps $ chap painting a fence, stop and yarn, remarking: "It's a wa-arm day" in the good old Corkoman brogue. He would confide that he was a stranger waiting to meet a man who was to sell him a farm, inviting his new friend across the road to join in a "spot/ , himself paying for the first round, thus "copping" the unsuspecting pubhcan. His fe.llow law-breaker would, of course, return the shout. Ihis lively Oorkonian thus caught two birds in one net. Then he would want a buggy to go down the coast to see a man about the farm, and again take his friend across, and repeat the little game, again catching the publican and a friend m another licensed house. His Man Friday was close at hand all the time.

Another way was. to look on at a chap sweeping up the dust oft the street or cleaning out the gutter, and get into conversation, and then remark, "It's a wa-arm day," and would he join him in a spot. The invitation being accepted, they would adjourn to the nearest bar, when he would plank down a shilling have a small shandy himself, his friend, naturally thirsty, having a long beer—change., a ' thrum. Got the publican again! bo the o-arne progressed- But the bubble burst at last, for, after the. usual "wa-arm day" remark and a pitch about the. '"farm," he invited a ,<«ood old tfellow-icountrynian m to join him in a spot. This time he happened to drop in a hostelry where the fairy behind the bar happened to be not a local fairy, » nd who knew all the. Foorce from A to Z. Our farmer friend asked hie copatriot what his weakness was Aβ usual with a thirsty Emerald Islander "\ long beer!" The farmer, his usual small shandy. The fairy served him his shandy, and returned him ninepence change. Our farmer friend, in astonishment, wanted to know "Why?" And he got it straight. He. could not have Fairy, for she told him who he wae, and knew them all. So he pocketed his ninepence, his friend paid for his own long-sleever, and the Fairy, by ways only known to the initiated, warned all she could to beware ot the green Corkonian who wanted to buy a farm. How's that for high? The Chinky can go and hide his blushing yellow face and take a back seat.

Some of these church farewells to members who are going away to war are so affectionate. It is already known that at a local church a fay-

ourite youncr man had to submit to a farewell, and that one of the hymns chosen for the occasion was, "Days and moments quickly flying, blend the living with the dead, soon will you and I be lying each within his narrow bed." This, it appears, wasn't rubbing it in strongly enough, so a dear young man got up and eang "Thou Art Passing Hence, My Brother." Why not give a chap a, miniature coffin to hang on his watch chain, or the freehold of a cemetery plot?

In the course of a sermon at St. Sepulchre's last Sunday evening, the Rev. W. G. Monckton, vicar of Takapuna, gave an account, of the difficulties St. Paul had to contend with in the different churches, and it would seem that we have much the same sort of thing to meet nowadays. The preacher referred to the factious people whose fault lay rather in lack of breeding and want of manners than in any grave sin, to the people who ran after the popular preacher, and who liked their sermons to resemble a certain cocoa, in being "grateful and comforting," to the. partisans who had no real religious convictions (since they were usually too stupid to be "Broad Church," too bad-manner-ed to be "High Church," and too iumstpiritual i*> be "Evangelical* ), and to the people who spent the last few minutes before, going to church in hunting round for some one who could change a sixpence tor two threepenny bits, and. then complained of the. "difficulty in. financing their church. If the Apostle could come to Auckland he. would find much to remind him of his own times.

Major Leo. M. Myers, sth Battalion King's Ex>yal Rifles, wnte» from Sheerness under date of sth November:—The speed of. to-days crale outside, suggests with strong force that I should drop you a line and thank you for the copy_ of the Observer containing the full • page cartoons of my old friend Jimmy Parr. It is blowing like, hell to-day, and my heart goes out to the splendid fellows in the Channel and the North Sea who are, always "on guard," and yet. never "grouse, come what. may. Somehow I always feel inclined to take off my hat to the men of the Fleet. They compel respect and admiration in the highest degree, but while we all hold a soft spot in our hearts for Jack, a clojse association and knowledge of

the modern Tommy in Flanders and France for over four months will always keep me an advocate of anything that makes for an improvement in his physical and financial conditions. His'never failing cheerfuln«3ss and unselfish comradeship "over yonder" is something calculated to develop in us the spirit of true democracy to an extent quite impossible as a result of the blatant platform or journalistic work.

Whether Tommy comes from the slums of East London, the, potteries of Stafford, or the coalfields of Yorkshire or Derbyshire, he is always a sport and naturally a gentleman. He may eat his peas with a knife, mop up* his recurring stew in the most audible manner, or give every evidence of an infancy or youth totally uncared for, but the unprotected women of , Belgium and France are as safe in -his company as in Westminster Abbey. Ar.d they know it. That is something we, as Englishmen, can be proud of. It must be said that he is set a good example by his officers in this respect, but we have been trained to expect that from the boys of the English Public Schools. And they have not disappointed us. Their courage and unselfish devotion to their men is something to remember ; all the days of one's, life. I can't help recalling the last Sunday I spent on the Somme, about. 30 miles west of Albert. We were billeted in filthy farmhouses (after spending three months "in the line" at Plug Street) practising the attack in its latest organisation. It had been raining all day, and we all returned to our so-called billets wet and uncomfortable. My company was distributed, half in a dirty smelly barn, and half in a lean-to alongside the barn—both facing and receiving the full benefit of a manure and cesspit that gave unmistakable evidence of at least a century's existence. ,

Those chaps—in spite, of the wet and great discomfort (for they had no blankets) —sang the most cheerful songe for two hours before lying down to court an intermittent sleep. T admit that whilst the tunes were frequently stolen hymns, the. librettos were not such as you would expect to hear in a Parnell draw-ing-room. I admit further, that some of them swallowed more beer than was good for them when they had the cash, and swore in a manner that would n«t have disgraced

my old friend Billy Potte—but they were MEN, courageous, generous and unselfish, and when this ghastly war is over I am full of hope that a bettor day will dawn for those whose grey lives, owing to circumstances of birth or other causes, were never illumined by the sunlight of opportunity. • • I don't know that this sort, of letter is very interesting to you, but my pen just rattled on as if I were talking to you in that disgracefully "untidy office of pleasant memories in Wyndham Street. And now I am training 3000 officers and men in anti-poison measures.; lecturing and instructing them in the gentle, art. of counteracting the enemy's most trying and uncivilised form of attack. It is interesting work, and gratifying to fee.l that one can be useful to one's country in saving the valuable lives of one's countrymen. . Sheerness is a Godforsaken hole, and is. known to those of us. compelled to live there for the sake of our bleeding country as She.ernastine.ss. ® ® ® An amusing story is just now going the rounds of a group of city offices. The company, like many another nowadays, has had its ranks depleted by enlistments, and, to make good the deficit in some measure, has been obliged to take into its serviceV temporarily, men long past their first youth. One of these is a member of the great unpaid, a gentleman of ample means,

but one not above accepting ten bob a day, even though he knows he is keeping out a needy brother. Long years of affluent indolence have engrained in him certain fixed habits, among • which is a long afternoon smoke—the. sequent forty winks he has had perforce to forego. Just now, having a well-devel-oped "centre forward," he. finds the sultry days exceptionally trying. ■ • • One afternoon recently, smoke time arrived 1 , and he duly wended his-way to the lavatory, sat him down a>nd puffed away contentedly, but alas, so soothing was the weed that he. slept. The other members of the staff, being too busy to notice his. absence, departed when closing time came, without giving him a thought. When the cool of the evening came, our J. P. woke with a start, but the fates were unkind. By some, strange mischance the lock had gone out of gear, the door would not open, and he was kept in durance vile. What untoward circumstance would have arisen is hard to say had not the secretary returned to the. office during the evening for some forgotten letters and heard the Morse signals from the. upper floor. Some "heart to heart talk" followed on the release. —and afternoon smokes are now "off." <® <3P fc "Te Pana" :—Some person with long whiskere and an umbrella is of the opinion that it pays to adver-

tise. Otherwise, why the Scriptural injunctions about "wild, oats" and beer, and the "day of retribution" that stare blankly from the smoker end of the. tram cars. It is soothing to the soul, when swinging on a strap, with two men standing on your feet, to be reminded that "the way of the transgressor is hard," and "Young man, you are travelling to the hobs of Gehenna." Why make such a noise about it these hot days? And why the Scripture texts, anyhow? A picture of a long beer and a bit o'counter lunch would be much more worthy of space, and conducive of joy that could be realised at the nearest gin palace.. © @> @> Grown up banqueters who only glow into oratorical fervour when lubricated with "Chateau Lafitte," or become sparklers under the influence of dry "Mumm," might take an example from the boys who blow themselves into a profound state of exhilaration on lemonade. The potency of lemonade and allied compounds was. exhibited wonderfully at the annual gathering of the V.M.C.A. Boys Division in the Town Hall on Saturday night. The. city engineer (Mr W. E. Bush) presided —and it was a hot night. The work at the tables sounded like a gas attack jn Flanders, for every boy drank a full bumper of lemonade for every toast, until none but the strongest of waistcoats oould have stood the strain. Colonel Patterson was, there for the Navy and Army, and Mr Beddoe appeared for

the Empire. There were, of course, other people present, but this is a lemonade etory. The boys' got so used to drinking toasts that.when Mr E. K. Mulgan gave. "The Auckland V.M.C.A. and the Boys' Division" every "marble" popped and fizzed like one explosion. When somebody gravely turned to the boys and told them they mustn't drintk their own healths, they were for the first time in the evening distinctly disappointed. Every boy' wqs: .'a good' advertisement for Balloon brand, and the remark from an eminent citizen that the. Town Hall was a "floating palace" filled the bill.

Major Clyde MeGilp, writing from London, says:—Left the Somme with rheumatism, influenza and a bit "nervy." Have been in hospital some fourteen days. Pretty well O.K. again, with the exception of a troublesome, cough (especially at night). Doctors are a bit doubtful over one of my lungs, and yesterday X-rayed chest. I think it a bit of a joke! Treatment in hospital is all that one could wish for— both attendance and administration are Al. I hear well of our New Zealand institutions in "Blighty." Weather here, is just about as bad as in France. Mud was up to our knees when we left the Somme, and we have the colder weather yet to come—nothing much to look forward to! Expect to return in a fortnight's time, biit of this a "board" will decide in a few days' time.