SESSION AND SOCIETY.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XIV, Issue XXVI, 29 June 1895, Page 607

SESSION AND SOCIETY.

CHIT-CHAT FROM THE CAPITAL.

(our parliamentary flaneur.)

HER MAJESTY’S BIRTHDAY BALL came and went on Tuesday, or rather, the going of it was an affair of Wednesday, for the last of Lord and Lady Glasgow’s guests did not, I fancy, say their ‘ goodbyes ’ until three o’clock in the morning. Last year, as many Wellington folks remember, we had no Birthday ball. I forget the reason therefore, but the melancholy omission remains fixed in my memory. This year’s ball, however, fairly made up for it. It was a proof that a tremenduous crush need not prevent a gathering from being thoroughly enjoyable. Never before have I seen Government House so crowded. I was told that not more than five hundred guests were there, but from the throngs in every nook and corner, I should have been disposed to rate the numbers a hundred or two higher. Nevertheless, so excellent were the arrangements that the circulation was never absolutely stopped, nor was the heat in any of the rooms really oppressive. I cannot describe the dresses, or even the decorations. Unhappily, I have no eye for the details of upholstery, or even of drapery. The ladies, to me, looked charming, and the rooms brilliant. Amongst the non-dancers, but bearing her deprivation cheerfully, was Lady Augusta Boyle, who, sitting on the dais in the innerdrawing-room held quite a court. The great supper problem must have taxed the talents of the A.D.C’s., but it was solved very well. If you think it is an easy feat to arrange for five hundred guests to get supper in a room which will not accommodate more than fifty at a time, all I can say is, try it, and I think yon will repent of your self-confidence. Something like ten batches of people had to be admitted it. succession into the dining-room at Government House on Tuesday night. The couples moved in at one door, took their refreshments standing round the long table, and moved out at another door. Thus there was no squeezing, no jostling, no trampling of trains, id upsetting of plates of chicken, no spilling of glasses of champagne. Certainly those who did not get in amongst the first two or three relays had reason to exercise a little patience, but where in the world is patience not necessary ? Two smiling and goodhumoured A.D.C.'s mounted guard at the entrance door so soon as the supper-room was full, and suavely but firmly, declined to give admittance to any more of the hungry and thirsty ones until the lucky ‘ insides ’ had departed. But the delay was not very great after all, and the supper, when one did get to it, was good. People who dance Scotch reels—a feat I cannot accomplish—tell me that the reel performed at the Birthday ball was most skilfully and cleverly done. Certainly the gentlemen looked brisk and the ladies pretty, and had the former worn Highland costumes, nothing more could have been desired. I cannot award the same praise to the official set of lancers, in which His Excellency danced with Mrs Wallis, and Lady Glasgow with Mr Seddon. One or two of the figures went by no means smoothly ; indeed, I saw the dancers wind up in something like hopeless entanglement. Not only was all Wellington at the ball, but the native contingent was rein forced by a strong squadof naval men from H. M.S. Ringarooma and Pylades, which are in the harbour just now. I always rejoice to see naval men at a ball, partly because they enjoy themselves so, and partly because their uniforms are such a relief from the common and funeral black coat of civilian life. Needless to say, the Premier was at the ball, as in duty bound, and needless to say he threw himself into the proceedings as heartily as he does into everything with which he has aught to do. It must have delighted any of his political friends who were there to see the almost boyish zest and vigour with which the cares of office and the troubles of party were thrown aside while Mr Seddon, beaming and perspiring, danced and promenaded as though politics were not, and critical Parliaments and M.H.R.’s were mere creatures of the journalistic imagination.

But alas ! against the five hundred odd cheerful people who enjoyed themselves so thoroughly at the Birthday ball must be set one implacable cynic who did not. He styles himself ‘Demos,’ and under that title seems to have written a long letter to The Evening Post full of gall, wormwood, vitriol, pepper, mustard, and vinegar. Isay that he ‘ seems to have written ’ this spicy letter, because the editor of The Post, to our intense disappointment, declines to publish the epistle, remarking in a spasm of propriety, * our correspondent’s letter is too strongly worded for insertion.’ I am one of The- Post's most constant readers, and enjoy it daily, but all I can say is that if * Demos’ ’ letter was too strongly worded for The Post its language must have been tolerably lurid. However, The Post indicates that * Demos ’ complains bitterly of the list of invitations

issued for the Birthday ball. His unappeased indignation was poured forth against the compliers of the list of the honoured. In that list, it seems, were the names of many ladies and gentlemen who had been in their graves for months. Moreover, people who though still on this earth are at the other end of it, were also represented as among the invited. More awful still was the fate of prominent Wellingtonians who were not invited at all, although, as ‘Demos’ rather assertively puts it, they ‘ had a right to expect invitations.’ After this scathing effusion it was quite a relief to one to see to day the Government House folks going about the town with their heads still erect and unabashed.

Great as was the crowd at the Birthday ball, the throng to witness the opening of Parliament was greater still. Old hands say that there never was such a rush for seats before. Every square foot of room in the Galleries was packed, and ladies were even squeezed into the sacred space heretofore strictly reserved for the newspaper men. The red fittings and white and gilt tones of the Legislative Council Chambers always make it a brighter hall for the ceremony than the sombre House of Representatives. Moreover, the glitter of the uniforms, scarlet and gold, blue and silver, worn by the Governor's suite, naval officers, the Consuls, and the Knights of St. Michael and St. George, and the ladies’ costumes give glow and colour to the opening scene. I am not going to inflict upon you anything about the speech from the throne except passant that Lord Glasgow's reading thereof would certainly not have taken a prize at an elocution contest. The light was not strong, and His Lordship, who is frankly short-sighted, appeared to have some difficulty in reading the manuscript even with the aid of glasses. At any rate, when referring to his recent trip in the Hinemoa to the Auckland Chatham and other outlying islands of ours, he termed them ‘ little, unknown isles,’ instead of ‘ little known isles.’ Let us hope the slip will never come to the ears of the patriotic Chatham Islanders, or it is difficult to say what terrific results may not accrue—possibly the proclamation of a Republic and a demand for separation from the Mother Country. But however dull speeches from the throne are, I do think the Honourable Legislative Councillors seated in state around might keep awake while His Excellency is reading. One of the Lords on Thursday dropped off into sweet and open-mouthed slumber during the reading, to the undisguised delight of many of the gallery’s onlookers. The only other noteworthy event in connection with the ceremony was that the Vice-regal salute was positively fired at the right moment. Such an exhibition of official punctuality is too unparalleled not to be carefu’ly recorded.