WAIFS AND STRAYS.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume X, Issue 1, 7 January 1893, Page 8

WAIFS AND STRAYS.

Wisdom, says Juvenal, frequently conquers fortune.

Silence is a virtue in those who are deficient in understanding. Obedience to duty, at all costs and risks, is the very essence of_the highest civilised life. We have all of us, sneered Kochefoucauld, sufficient strength to bear the misfortunes of others.

Fame is like 'a river that braveth up light things and drowns those that are weighty and solid. —Bacon.

As we pity the blind and lame, so those who are blinded and maimed in the faculties which are supreme should be pitied.

‘ The holiday spirit is an all-pervading one,’ remarked a father, as he bought his.little boy a sixpenny toy ; * but it costs money. ’ We suppose that the only real pleasure that can be felt by the collector of antique furniture is to realize how uncomfortably somebody else used to live. There are three classes into which all the women past seventy that ever I knew were to be divided :—l. That dear old soul ; 2 That old woman ; 3. That old witch.— Coleridge.

The truly great man is he who does not lose his childheart. He does not think beforehand that his words shall be sincere, or that hie actions shall be resolute ; he simply always abides in the right. About Snappishness.—Married couples that coo as harmoniously as ringdoves in public are sometimes mere snap-ping-turtles behiud the scenes. Mrs Caudle, according to her own account, was as mild as a zephyr in society, but she was a white squall in a nightgown when she ‘turned in.’ Her lectures were all ‘ snap,’and it is surmised that the whole celebrity they acquired when printed was mainly attributable to the force and accuracy with which they illustrated the experience of thousands of married men. Unfortunately for the peace of families, all husbands are not Caudles. Some of the persecuted—perhaps the majority ol them—instead of taking refuge in assumed deafness, retort violently, and hence domestic tempests tierce and frequent. This is bad. A mild answer turneth away wrath, ami absolute silence generally cools if it does not extinguish it. We suggest the fornrer as the best remedy. Husbands should be considerate. Their helpmeets have much to try their tempers. The home department is not an Elysium; as the ‘ man of the house ’ would find to his sorrow if he were to try it for a single day. About Alphabets.—lt isn’t always a hard thing to learn the alphabet, nor on the other hand, is it always easy. It all depends upon the country you were born in and the size cf the alphabet used there whether it comes harder easy. To those of you who know only one alphabet—the one that contains 26 letters from A to Z —this sounds like an absurd sort of thing to say ; but in reality it is not. The Sandwich Island boy, who has only his own alphabet to learn, has a much easier time getting his lessons than most of us have, for his alphabet contains but 12 letters, while the Ethiopic and Tartarian boy—poor fellows ! —have to learn 202 letters before they can truthfully say that they know their alphabet. Other alphabets have letters as follow : The Burmese, 19 ; the Italian, 20 ; the Bengalese, 21 ; the Hebrew, Syriac, Chaldee, Samaritan, and Latin, 22 each; the French, 23; the Greek, 24; the German and Dutch, like our own, 26; the Spanish and Sclavonic, 27 each ; the Arabic 28; the Persian and Coptic, 32 ; the Georgian, 35; the Armenian, 38; the Russian, 41; the Muscovite, 43 ; the Sanscrit and Japanese, 50 ; and, finally, the Ethiopic and Tartarian, as we have already seen, 202. A Dangerous Conspirator,—Probably no well-mean-ing poet was ever more taken by surprise than was M. Pccbantre, a gentle and mild mannered French dramatist of the 17th century, who was one day arrested for high treason as he was peacefully eating his dinner at a village inn. The landlord of the inn where he was in the habit of dining discovered on a table a piece of paper on which were written some unintelligible phrases, and below, in a plain, bold hand, * Here 1 will kill the king.’ The landlord consulted with the chief of polic . Clearly this clue to a conspiracy ought to be followed up. The person who had left the paper bad already been remarked for his absent air and gleaming eye. That man was Pccbantre. The chief of police instructed the landlord to send for him the next time the conspirator came to dinner. When 1 ecbautre was shown the evidence of his guilt he forgot the awful charge against him, and exclaimed, ‘ Well, 1 ant glad to see that paper. 1 have looked everywhere for it. It is part of a tragedy I ant writing ; it is rhe climax of my best scene, where Nero is to be killed. It comes in here ; let me read to you,’ and he took a thick manuscript from his pocket. * Monsieur, you may finish your dinner and your tragedy in peace,’ said the chief of pohee, and he beat a hasty retreat. Concert Experiences.—A prominent singer, who began his career in grv ing concerts about the country, has some extraordinary experiences in towns where such entertainments were oi rare occurrence. One night, when he was persistently applauded, he returned to sing a second song, but was surprised by a stentorian voice from the audience: ‘Oh, we don’t want nothin’ new ! Sing the fust piece over again I’ At another time the audience was so wildly appreciative that it refused to consider the concert at an end, and clamoured loudly for ‘just one more.’ It was given, and then another demanded. Patience failed the singer at this point, and he begged his manager to go before the curtains and state that he really was unable to sing any more. And thus was the statement worded : ’ Ladies and gentlemen, Mr Martin can’t sing no more tonight. He can’t, honest. His wind’s give out I’ A similarstory comes from another singer, who could not retrain from telling it, although her 7 year old niece, a fastidious little lady, pronounced it ’ not a very pretty story, auntie !’ The lady bad been taken ill alter eating some Uecoctiou of ancient lobster at the hotel, ami sent her manager word that she really could not sing. He accordingly appear* d before the disappointed audience, ami announced : * Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Merriam ain’t here to night. She eouldu t come, bhe ain’t in lit ciicumstar ees to sing. She’s eat some bad lobster, and it’s troubling her I’