WAIFS AND STRAYS.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume IX, Issue 32, 6 August 1892, Page 786

WAIFS AND STRAYS.

The true university of these days is a collection of books. We should all be perfect if we were neither men nor women. Moonlight is sculpture, says Hawthorne; sunlight is painting. .Jagson says the reason that woman talks so much is because she suiters in silence. Certain thoughts aie prayers. There are moments when, whatever be the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees. It is better to be a good tailor than a wearisome preacher, a smart shoemaker than a stupid lawyer, a dexterous carver than a blundering politician. No enjoyment, however inconsiderable, is confined to the present moment. A young man is the happier for life from having made once an agreeable tour, or lived for any length of time with pleasant people or enjoyed any considerable interval of innocent amusement. Lord Falmouth, who sold off his stud in 1884 from a feeling of distaste for the unhealthy condition of the turf, is said never to have betted but once, when he laid sixpence on Lady Bertha with his trainer’s wife, and lost it. He sent her the coin set in diamonds. Intellectual possessions, valuable as they are, cannot of themselves reline their owner. If he has in his heart the alloy of selfishness, or ingratitude, or self conceit, or contempt for those less learned than himself, he lacks true refinement in spite of all his learning. A well - known American divine rebuked an ignorant pieacher for exercising the office of priest. In defence the man said : ‘ We are commanded to preach the gospel to every critter.’ * Yes,’ replied the divine, ‘ but every critter is not commanded to preach the gospel.’ Insurance Agent.—‘l came to call your attention to the fact that your policy expiies to day and beg you to renew it.’ Economist—‘ Very sorry, but this is the tenth year that I have insured in your company and nothing lias happened, so I have made up my mind to try another company.' If we are gladdened by approval, we must be saddened by censure ; if we are made happy by fiiendship, we must suffer by alienation. Bishop Brooks has said, ‘lt is the pledge of our best intercourse with one another, the assurance of our sacredest relationships, that we have vast power to make one another unhappy.’ IT IS SOMETHING FRIGHTFUL. 'There is sadness in its sadness when it’s sad, There is gladness in its gladness when it’s glad, But tlie sadness of its sadness And the gladness of its gladness Are not in it, with the madness Of New Zealand when it’s mad. FREEDOM.—Submission of any sort is looked upon by many as an admission of servitude and as repugnant to manhood. That depends, however, on what we submit to. Submit to evil, and we become slaves; to be free men we must submit to righteousness. We enjoy freedom when our hearts go forth into the infinite empire of which we are subjects. A man becomes free only as he becomes obedient to some high faith, some lofty purpose. It was that which armed the Maid of Orleans for field and siege, and enabled her to erect again the prostrate courage of a nation. A Disgusting Intoxicant.—The Mexican pulque is the worst drink on the face of the earth. It is the juice of a tree, and at first tastes like spruce beer, but after termentation has ended and the alcholic piinciple is fully developed in the liquid it is not only extremely intoxicating, but has a most abominably putrid smell, having imbibed the animal principles of the skin in which it is kept. It is impossible for an American to drink it without holding his nose, and after he has imbibed even a comparatively small quantity he will get drunker and stay drunk longer than on any other drink ever manufactured.

Guest: ‘ How comes this dead fly in my soup?’ Waiter: ‘ In fact, sir, I have no positive idea how the poor thing came by his death. Perhaps it had not taken any food for a long time, dashed upon the soup, ate too much of it, contracted an inflammation of the stomach that brought on death. The fly must have had a weak constitution, for when I served up the soup it was dancing merrily on the surface. Perhaps—and the idea presents itself only at this moment—it endeavoured to swallow too large a piece of vegetable ; this, remaining fast in the throat, caused achoking in the windpipe. This is the only reason I can give for the death of that insect.’ Machine made Nutmegs.—The Yankee wooden nutmegs are a common joke, but few people know that in Marseilles (France) nutmegs are actually manufactured for the foreign trade. When kept very long nutmegs become wormy, and so lose their commercial value, but the thrifty Frenchmen do not feel able to throw away a case of nutmegs only because the spice happens to be full of worms, so they put the nutmegs in a mill something like a coffee mill and grind them up, and with day, bran, a preparation of glue and a set of suitable moulds, produce a very fair article of nutmeg. They can scarcely be detected by the eye or band, being very haul and about the weight of the genuine article, but a soaking in warm water will make them drop to pieces, while the genuine article successfully bears any test of this kind. The Critic of Character. — He who understandingly criticises some practical work has a definite and useful object before him, namely, the improvement of that work in the present and the future; but the critic of character usually has no such aim and can hope for no such tesirlt. If this criticism be unfavourable, he may injure a man’s reputation, cloud his prospects, rouse his anger, push him lower down in the scale of manhood, but can never thus help to lift him up, or to awaken within him the desire to live more nobly. Of course there are exceptions to this—cases where duty to others demands the utterance of many unwelcome truths ; but in general the detractor has no such motive—he merely speaks evil of another in a desultory, eaieless, self indulgent way, without counting the cost, and airly without any well-defined idea of doing good.