A DANGEROUS VIRTUE. Newspaper Sail-Trimming.

Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1806, 2 February 1884, Page 1 (Supplement)

A DANGEROUS VIRTUE.

Newspaper Sail-Trimming.

Evehyone (perhaps) knows the story of Presence- of- Mind Tomkyns (of Oriel) who gained his prenomen from harmneriug with an oar the fingers of the young lady who clung to his boat, which she would otherwise have overset and drowned him ; but his is not the only instance wherein that admirable virtue has been displayed to itB possessor's disadvantage. Except, indeed, in the case of running away at once on the first hint of danger (where it is almost impossible to go wrong), I am inclined to doubt whether pro sence of mind is a virtue. I have known so many cases wherein people endowed with this highly eulogised quality have, in what the French call " supreme moments " (Aaighce "narrow shaves," "muckers"), done such things with sang-froid and unpremeditated good judgment as they have repented of, but could never atone for, all their lives. I once performed an action o£ this kind myself, which pi oved so far from " presence of mind " being only second in point of advantage in a railway acoident to " abbencc of body," that hardly anything can be leas desirable ; and as the public travel a great deal by railway, the recital of it may interest them. I was a passenger one night by the Scotch express to Edinburgh, and, as might hay« been expected from one possessing the quality in question, had taken care to make myself particularly comfortable. Pullman and sleeping cars were unknown in those days, but I had secured the seat opposite to me for my feet, and was as well fortified against the cold as a late dinner at " the Hag," with a glass of "sixty-year-old" brandy to follow, within, and ulster and rugs without, could make me. I had a friend (no, too suspicious reader, not a lady — it was the limited mail train) beside me similarly situated, and m the third seat beyond waa an urbane stranger with his legs up, who from his discreet silence^ and his having secured the seats on the off side where nobody could disturb him, I concluded to be a diplomatist. Having awakened at Carlisle, I got out for another petit verre of brandy (much younger than I had had at the club), and on returning to my carriage found, to my horror, the seat for my feet occupied otherwise, by an intruder, and a person too of a class to whom the term " a rough customer " would not have been inapplicable. Everyone who is anyone can understand my indignation. Even in omnibuses, which are licensed to hold a good many people, persons already in possession, however few, resent, I am told, the arrival of new comers ; but the present outrage was one that was intolerable and (except ' I on the Continent) absolutely unparalleled. I An Englishman's house is his castle ; but his I two seats in a night train are even more sacred and peculiar to himself. I was astonished and amazed to the last degree, but I was not speechless : " My good sir," I said, " you have mistaken your carriage." " No, I ain't ; and I mean to travel in this un." " But it is my scat, sir," " Then I suppose you sits on your legs." My friend was asleep (one's friends always are asleep when we need their assistance), but I saw a sly smile flicker upon the countenance of the diplomatist ; it was the sort of difficulty (another man's difficulty) that amused him. "You may not be aware, my good man," I resumed, ' that it ia usual for gentlemen on long journeys to reserve two seats for themselves/ " Then they ought to take two tickets," he replied surlily ; " show me yourn — here's mine right enough," and he ostentatiously displayed it. It was a second-class one. I flung down the window and exclaimed with professional promptitude, " Guard, turn out " — I should have said, of course, " Guard, turn out this man ; " but the official (who had half-a-crown of mine in his pocket) understood the situation at once. The obnoxious intruder was instantly hauled forth, exclaiming (falsely) that he had been inserted in the first class for want of room^elsewhere. I had once more put up* my feet .triumphantly, and was arranging my wraps as the train moved slowly on, when I perceived a carpet bag in the rack over the opposite seat. My nature is not malicious, and though still smarting from my recent wrongs, I felt sorry that the poor man should be parted from his solitary article of baggage, and thinking there ■was yet time (oriather my immense presence of mind not giving me .time to think) I plucked the bag from the rack and threw id violently out, as I reckoned, upon the platform ; it fell, however, on the line about ten yards beyond it. " Good heavens" cried I, " he'll lose it." "It is no matter," said the diplomatist in the softest and creamiest tone conceivable ; " it happens to be my bag," You might have knocked me down with a leather. I made a hundred apologies, all of which he acknowledged with great polite/ ness. • / '' It has my address on it, and will turn up someday, no doubt." " How could I have been suoh an infernal fool 1" I murmured penitently. " Pardon me," he eaid,. -still sweetly smiling ; " it is not -that 76a are—the character

you have so graphically e»cnbnl, bat beciuye }ou have do much presence of mind. For my part I never do anything in a hurry, and especially if it seems to be imperatively demanded of mo ; I always carefully avoid being what is vulgarly called " equal to the situation." At one time, indeed, ifc was otherwise. I used to suffer from the same infiruiity as yourself, but was cured of ifc as I am sure you will be, and, aa it curiously happens, in a precisely similar manner. " I was coming by mail one night from the north of Scotland ; in the carriage with me was but one fellow passenger, a young fellow whom I judged to be in love, since he seemed very much occupied with his own affairs said little. He did not appear inclined for sleep, and gave me the idea o£ expectation. Perhaps he was to meet his beloved object at his journey's end. At a small station just I beyond Perth he got hurriedly out, as I I unnderstood from his muttered exclamation, for a glass of whisky : ifc was a bitterly cold winter's night, which seemed an excuse for it ; but I warned him that there was no time to get it, and there was not. The carriage door had hardly closed behind him when the train went on. "I was very sorry for the poor lad, and I knowing that to be left at so wretched a placa without one's luggage would be an additional j annoyance. Avith great presence of mind- 1 threw oat of the window everything he possessed : his portmanteau, hat box, and railway rug, even to his umbrella. I can see them now, black on the snow-covered line, where he could not fail to see them from the platform. Then we thundered on for about twenty miles, when the train stopped again, and who Bhould present himself at the window o£ the carriage but the young man himself) " I beg your pardon," he said, for letting the cold air in, but I see it is the wrong compartment. I thought I had left my luggage here. "Ho you did," I said ; " but I chucked it out. I'm very sorry, but I thought we had left you behind. I did it all for the best." " And you have done it pretty completely,' was his dry reply. "When he had telegraphed to the last station he got in again and explained matters. He wa3 studying civil engineering, it seemed, and had bribed the engine man to let him drive us for a mile or two. As thia was contrary to regulations, the man waa afraid to lot him join him at Perth, but told him to jump on at the first small station we came to, which he accordingly did. It was a lesson to him not to break the company's bye-laws, and to me not to be so fond as I used to be of exercising my presence of mind." After this homily, and my own previous experience of what come 1 ? of promptness and presence of mind, the reader will think that I myself — vioi gui vous parle — would at least neve* 1 fall into a mistake of that kind again. Yet this happened to me only last week. I had taken a hurried lunch at my olub, before going to Brighton, and, finding it to be lather late, had flung myself into the first hansom at the door, with an impatient 'To Victoria.' The man drove off, but slowly; his horse seemed tired, and after a few yards came to a full stop. ' What is the matter ?' I exclaimed with some irritation. " I am the matter," cried a well-known voice; it was a great friend of mine, who had stopped the cab, just to shake handb. His quick eye saw something beside myself in it. ' Why do you travel witii two umbrellas,' he inquired, ' like a Japanese gentleman of rans with a couple o£ swords?' Then I perceived that the man who had just got out of the hansom of the club had lett his umbrella behind him. Of course I might have left it where it was, but, with great presence of mind, it struck me that it would be better to entrust it to my friend (who was bound for the club) to give it to the porter, for the owner, who would thereby recover it at once. I therefore did so, and with the consciousness of having performed a good action, and also manifested no slight acumen on the spur of the moment, we drove on. On arriving at Victoria, I tendered the cabman eighteenpence. 'What is thid for?' he inquired, with an indignation which, consider* ing that his actual fare was a shilling, did him I thought, great credit. " It is justnity per cent, above what I owe you," I said, " you very impudent fellow." " What 1 " he cried, in a voice that brought quite a little crowd around us; "eighteenpance from the Temple 1 " " The Temple 1 I came from the Megatherium Club, you scoundrel." " Then that's not your umbrella," he exclaimed excitedly, pointing to that article, my own property, which I held in my hand. "Pardon me," I said sarcastically, "but those are my initials." And I held up the handle for his inspection. " Then, where is the umbrella thatioas in the cabV It was really rather difficult to explain ; my real reason for returning the article by my friend was that I had doubts of the cabman'a honesty, but I could not tell him that. So I had to narrate to a by-this-time considerable audience, including a policeman, who waa looking at me with great suspicion, that I had sent the article away by a friend, for the purpose of returning it to its owner. " Oh, that's a pretty story," cried the cabman (and I felt that it was so, and would be worth telling), "Just you look after this party, policeman." I had never been in such a false position in my life, though, ai the reader knows, I had suffered before from my great presence of mind. " You had better go back, my good friend, to the gentleman at the club, who will doubtless reward you," said I in a conciliatory tone. Then, suddenly remembering it was thi3 abominable cabman's own fault all along, I added in a much more natural way, "How dare you take a second fare, before you have done with the first? Don't you know the regulations under which you hold your license? ' " But I thought, sir, as you was the same gentleman "—then I knew (by his civility) that I had conquered. "Thought, sir," I put in; "it would be much better for you if you used your eyes, instead of thinking. The man's a fool 1 " And then I wa!k? 1 off majestically, having already, as I saw, impressed the fickle crowd with the same opinion. But I was quite aware, for all that, that the whole affair might have been very unpleasant, and that I had been very nearly getting into a second hobble through my too prompt proceedings, and my fatal gift of presence of mind. Jambs Path.

Thb Moniteur in 1815, then the organ of Louis XVIII, thus from day to day recorded the progress o! the first Napoleon from Elba to Paris : " The anthropophagist has escaped." " The Coraican ogre has landed." " The tiger is coming." " The monster has slept at Grenoble." " The tyrant has arrived at Lyons." " The usurper has been seen in the environs of Paris." " Bonaparte advances toward, but will never enter the capital." - "Napoleon will be under our ramparfcß to-morrow." "His Imperial Majesty entered the luHeries the 21at o! March, in the midst of his faithful subjects." —London Society. "A good discourse is that from which nothing can bs retrenched without cutting into the quick," observed F6nelon in his letter on eloquence.