THE "PERIPATETIC PHILOSOPHER" ON ASSURANCES.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 493, 15 December 1869, Page 3

THE "PERIPATETIC PHILOSOPHER" ON ASSURANCES.

There is some talk just now about assurances. People who have been ruined by anything — whether railways, mining, or patent medicines— are always talking about it, and forcing their grievances down other people's throats. I am sure that a great many worthy gentlemen of my acquaintance have great i - eason to be thankful for such matters, as the ability to recapitulate their woes gives them a status in society which they would not otherwise possess. A friend of mine, who lost a leg in a railway collision seven years ago, has absolutely lived upon the missing limb ever since. He was a mere nobody, a perfectly uninteresting and respectable man, before the accident happened. The mere fact of the 9.20 down running into the 1 1.30 up raised him — I had almost written jerked him— into a comfortable dinner-table independence. Upon the strength of his weak leg he walks into every comfortable house in the city, and by dint of recounting his mishap at all hours, 1 times, and seasons, he has obtained a very tolerable reputation as a man of wit. I have seen a whole roomful of the " best people " convulsed with well-bred laughter at his description of the appearance of the engine driver when he was dragged head foremost from the stoke-hole ; and lovely women have wiped perfectly natural tears from their , eyes at his pathetic account of his feelings ■ the first time that his wooden leg stuck in a : fire plug. His marring has been the making : of him, and though he has one foot in the grave already, he is going to be married to one of the prettiest fortunes in the city. Yet he received compensation from the company, and absolutely was paid more for one leg than an honest valuator would have adjudged to be a fair price for his whole body. But perhaps his case is peculiar, for I am informed that injured people do not always receive compensation for their injuries, and that if one belongs to a life assurance, one must take the rough with the smooth. In such a case I know of no remedy, for even the old joke, of " hanging a director " would lose its point. After you have lost your money there is but little good to be got by thrashing your despoiler, and the best thing that the assured of the European can do, is to imitate the pantomimical clown, when pantaloon bruises his shins with the poker, " Grin and bear it." I remember an anecdote which you may have heard before which is illustrative of the fallacy of the argumentum ad hominem doctrine. Jack Harris, known as the coolest and poorest of jokers, having gone to Doncasteranent some racing matter, found himself stranded for want of a dinner. He had no money and knew no one. Another man might have despaired, but not so the imperturbable Jack. Walking into the best room of the best hotel, he ordered dinner with that air which so many London tradesmen know but too well — " Soup, fish, game—anything or everything ! " The dinner was served by the host in person, and Jack, having consumed the proper quantity of sherry and champagne was kind enough to compliment the White Hart upon the excellencies of its cookery and to inquire as to some heavier liquor. A magnum of burgundy was brought — "Excellent, egad! — never drank better." By and bye the wondering waiters below stairs, who were deciding among themselves upon the parti cular coronet witb which to endow the illustrious stranger, were startled by a ring. " Send the landlord to me ! " The landlord, who thought that his guest was a prince of blood »t least, came trembling to the door. " Sit down, Mr Perkins," says Jack with easy frankness. " Have a glass of wine ? Business good, Perkins ? " " Well y-yes, your g-grace," stammered Perkins, astonished at the unwonted familiarity, " tolerably good." " Any bad debts, Perkins ? Rascally fellows, eat, drink, sleep, and don't pay, hey ? " " Occasionally, your 1-1-lordship, we h-have a little accident of that sort." "Ah ! just so. And now, Perkins — help yourself to another glass of wine — suppose now that a fellow came here, as I have done, and ordered a good dinner — soup, fish, game, as I have done, and then Bent for the land-

lord—don't be afraid of the Burgundy, Perkins, its out of your own cellar — sent for the landlord just as I have done, and told him that he couldn't pay a shilling ! What would you do, Perkins, eh ? " "Do I " — cried poor Perkins, beginning dimly to comprehend the drift of his visitor's argument— " Do !— w-why, I'd, I'd, I'd ki-ki-Aick the scoundrel down stairs I " "In that case," says Jack, rising with a smile and parting his coat-tails with inimitable grace, " In that case, Perkins, I'll trouble you ! "