THE IDLER.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5502, 29 February 1896, Page 4

THE IDLER.

■ ■ ■ ■_» A sapient Jay Pee, who had to deal with a "drunk and disorderly," the other day, inflicted a fine of five shillings, and was confronted with tho plea that the offender did not possess so much. " Ah !." said this modern Solomon, "if you hadn't spent your money in getting drunk, you'd have had enough to pay the fine." And for the life of him he could not see where the laugh came in. # * I have been gravely assured that the domestic happiness of two families in this community has been wrecked by the utterance of three words, and that it is now a case of " war to the knife." It happened in this way :— One lady artlessly said, " I am older than you think I am," and the other caustically replied, " I doubt it." That was all. -*.'*# *. # - The Swarm ofi the Canterbury Branch ofthe National Association has "fluted" his death-song as President. Never mind. All the Association's geese are swans. # * "The operations of ttie New Zealand Oyster Company are being carried on at Pahautanui in an energetic manner, and the directors hope to be in a position to present a highly satisfactory report at the annual meeting of shareholders next month. Over 10,000 young oysters obtained from the Bluff, Nelson and Auckland have been laid down in the company's beds, and dredging for the oysters which have been found to exist in fairly large quantities in Pahautanui Harbour has been started by Mr Harvey, the working manageri All that he succeeds Tn gathering will be added to x the imported stock, and next year the company hope to have a sufficient quantity on hand to supple the requirements of the Wellington market." # * * And all the while, as I have seen urged over and over again in the leading colunfns of this -journal, there is, within a few miles of Chrisiohurch, a large saltrwater area that is infinitely better suited for the purposes of oyster-farming than any locality in the Wellington district. Yet nobody here seems to have the pluck to go in for an industry that could, not well fail to yield handsome returns on the invested capital within a few years. # # * * | " The quarrels of lovers are the renewals of love," an old authority declares, and let us hope that it will be so in a case tliat I have been told about. He and she are understood to be devotedly attached to one another, but •he is sententious, and she inclines to the matter-of-fact aspect in everything. He said, the other evening, with an air of superlative wisdom, " Wise men make proverbs, and fools repeat them." And she said, " I wonder what wise man made the one that you liave just repeated." Only that, and nothing more. ' ##* ' . * ■ It was another kind of answer that was given in an instance I have just read about, and it was the answer that turned away wrath, and that revealed "the sun of sweet content re-risen in Katie's eyes." She had been rebuking him for the levity that was his besettingsin, and wound upseverely with: "You axe constantly foolish." He didn't get angry, but with the wisdom, of the serpent made answer: "Yes, dear, but think how foolishly constant I am." And behold, bis constancy became a cloak that effectually covered his foolishness. . V For literalness of thought and expression, commend me to the bucolic mind of the Old Country. You can't beat it in the way of de facto argument. An English journal (Kentish) narrates a case in point. A group of men were discussing the merits of a ventriloquist who had been astonishing some of the yokels at a performance on the previous evening, and tho I local Doubting Thomas thus expressed himself :•—■" Look 'ere, mates," said he, "you say. he coijld chuck 'is bloomin' voice to the end of tho schoolroom ; jest you come outside, and I'll bet ye a pot I'll chvick mine a coople er 'undred yairds down the road to wheer my 'orses are standin'." 7- .' . ***. Those who have seen one of the more beautiful of the examples of bridge construction in the Old Country, the famous Clifton suspension bridge, will relish the following incident, related in the columns oi'.an English journal. A gentleman was crossing the bridge at a very' leisurely pace, thinking the while of its tremendous height above the water, and of the facilities it offered for ■ — . Just then, only a few yards in front of him, a workman jumped up on to the railings. The gentleman rushed - forward, grabbed the man by his coat, and hurriedly but earnestly addressed him on the folly of seeking to put an end to his existence. When he paused for breath, the man said : " Lemme go, you blanky fool, lemme go ; I'm paintin' the bridge." # # * They have got a smart boy at Bradford, the Yorkshire wool town, who is destined to make his mark some day in one direction or another, and which' direction it will be is psychologically dependent upon the relative strength of his objective and subjective entities. He has already broken up a policeman — broken him -up badly. He and four other boys had been summoned for stone-throwing, and the constable had just described how certain windows were broken. Then he was calmly cross-ex-amined by the small boy: — " How many windows did you say were broken?" "Four." "And how many stones did you find inside?" "Three." " But how can you charge five boys with breaking four windows with three stones ?" That particular Robert had never studied the principles of mental arithmetic, and for the time being he was converted into a hopeless- idiot. His subjective mind had got the better 'of him. # * # My items this week seem to be largely of the anecdotal sort. Nevertheless another one shall be ventured upon. It is connected with the "ram-it-in, jam-it-in" subject of home lessons. Dot was talking to her mother, and said, "Teacher says we needn't all learn to write the same hand." Mater remarked that Dot was doubtless pleased with such a concession, but the little one promptly answered, " Why, no ; its just as hard to learn to write one way as another. Now, if she'd only tell us we needn't all apeil the same way there'd be some comfort in it." # * Scene : Top of a London omnibus, the driver of which is. whipping a pair of jibbing horses. Old Lady (who knows about as much of driving as she does of flying) : " Driver, you're a very cruel man." Driver : " Cruel, mum ! Wot for ?" " Old Lady: "For whipping those poor dear horses. If you whip them again I'll report you." * • Driver : " Well, mum, it's like this, yer see— l'm a very queer believin' man, and I believes that when folks die they comes back to life in the shape p' hanimals— sich as 'orses, and I believes that these two 'orses Fin tryin' to drive are my mother-in-law and my wife's sister come back to life agin', and I'm jest payin' back some old scores and takin' if out of 'cm a bit for the sake o' old lang syne." Collapse of old lady. S. Lippee Dease.