TOPICS OF THE WEEK.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XVI, Issue IX, 29 February 1896, Page 237

TOPICS OF THE WEEK.

YOU will, my dear friends, find the text in the forecast of the ministerial policy for next session :— ‘Land is to be acquired for workmen’s villages close to large towns, and workmen’s trains regularly run.’ Was ever such a benevolent Government! Cheap country residences! ! and cheap trains !!! Verily, the workmen have cause to bless Seddon and his satellites, and to resolve to plump solidly for him at the next election. But the question that bothers me a trifle is. Who is the workman ? Where does the ordinary individual leave off and the workman begin ? How will the Government classify a man as a workman ? For instance, my good friend A, works on the road with a pick. He is employed with fair, indeed with complete regularity, and he earns—well, let us set it as low as is reasonable—3ss to £2 a week. Most of the A.’s I know earn considerably better money than this, but let us place it as low as possible. A., poor fellow, should certainly have a cheap train and a country residence with a bit of land for vegetable growing and what not. No one will quarrel with A. because he is fortunate enough to have found a Government who try and make life as easy as possible for him, only what about poorer B. ?

Friend B. (alas ! I have so many of them) works in an office with a pen. He is called a clerk, and he earns from 25s to 30s a week. The latter splendid sum was paid to one of the class I am thinking of by one of the wealthiest Auckland firms. In return forthismagnificent emolument the young gentleman was expected to work from nine till five every week day, and four nights out of the six he had to come back to work at seven, and rarely got away till at least half past ten. He was, of course, expected to live at a boarding-house in the vicinity, and as book-keeper to such a wealthy firm was expected to dress ‘like a gentleman,’ which being interpreted means above his income. Such is B.’s life. Now is B. a workman or is he not in the eyes of the Government ? And if he is not a workman, why is he, the poorer, to be forced into contributing toward the cost of cheap trains and cheap residences for his infinitely better-off brother—the manual working man ?

LET us hope, of course, that any member of the community who works for a living may be included in what the Government call the working class. Then cheap trains and cheap residences will be a most admirable introduction. But if it is not so, if the Government merely mean to provide cheap trains for manual labourers, then I think the time has come for clerks —all those of us who work in offices, in shops, and at desks to raise our voices and cry out against favouritism. We are every whit as truly working men as those who labour on the cooperative work or co-operative roads. Our hours are longer, the fatigue is as great, and the waste and exhaustion of vital power infinitely greater. When is it our turn for consideration ? When is legislation to look towards the hardship of our lot ? Assuredly there are abuses here for the Government to set right. Sweating in its most horrible form, tyranny and extortion thrive and are condoned, if not encouraged. The present Government has done something for the great army of clerks, but not one quarter enough. it would be well if this great corps of the industrial army were to shake itself together and make its power a little more felt. Let it remind the Government that it, too, is capable of winning or losing an election ,by thousands of votes, and then and not till then will its interests be regarded and its abuses reformed. Meanwhile, one must congratulate the other working man on his good luck. THE Volunteer movement will certainly boom now that soldierly Seddon has decreed that the Civil Service cadet must don the uniform. These young gentlemen will naturally (and very sensibly) be oblivious of the fact that they have no choice in the matter, and will enter on the duties of volunteering with an enthusiasm which will make ‘ outsiders ’ mad with ambition to go and do likewise. Also—for the male creature is fond of dress—uniforms will be much worn at dances, and those who have no gorgeous red coats with gold facings and thingimebobs will become wildly envious of those thus gorgeously arrayed, and will straightway enlist. Seriously, there is no doubt the new regulation is a real stroke of genius, and will simplv revolutionise volunteering in this colony. For years past it has been in a semi-moribund condition. It will now take a new lease of life, and become stronger and more popular than it has ever been. It is all very well to sneer at what is called Society, but when society men left the volunteers volunteering began to go down. The truth is that clerks

from our banks and insurance offices and other places of business are the pick of our basket. They are manly, straightforward, jolly young fellows, hardened by athletic* and yachting, and chockful of good nature and geniality. The old joke which makes them helpless dudes is as false and worn out as those which make everv barber offer one hair restorer and every few a vulgar swindler with a hooked nose and diamond studs. Once make volunteering fashionable amongst this set, and there will be a volunteer corps in the colony that will compare with any to be seen in any part of the world.

Another thing, recent events have shown that comparatively small bodies of perfect marksmen are what are most urgently wanted in warfare in countries like South Africa, Australia, and New Zealand. Let the Government encourage marksmanship ; let good prizes be offered for every district in the colony, and a fine series of trophies to be shot for at the big meeting at Wellington. A few hundred pounds spent in this way would be productive of results the importance of which it is impossible to overestimate.

A CERTAIN lady in a certain colonial town, which shall be nameless, is in sackcloth and ashes at present as a result of an abortive effort to be extra exclusive. The squadron was in port, and the said lady, who aspires to lead ‘ sassierty ’ in the aforesaid city, announced a ball, the smartest they had ever seen in . All the prettiest girls were asked, but of the jeunesse dorie of the place not one received a card. The gentlemen of the warships were to be the only males present. ‘They are such gentlemen.’ said the hostess, indiscreetly, to a dear friend, ‘so much nicer and more polished than the local young fellows.’ But, alas ! the night was a hot one, and as everyone knows, officers are rather a lazy lot. When out of Sydney they take things very easy. They are overdone with invitations, and if it is hot, or wet, or they feel ‘ off,’ they simply don’t turn out. So it was on this occasion. There were four ships in port, and some sixty officers were expected. Five turned up and there were >lO other men. Seventy of the selected pretty girls sat and looked at each other for half an hour, hoping against hope someone would turn up. But no one did. A halfhearted attempt was made to enjoy the joke, but the hostess walked round the room with a ‘ ghastly grin ' and apologised to the girls and asked them to dance together. At ten o’clock thirty of the party left in a squad, and the band played to a deserted ballroom. Shortly before supper two of the five officers discovered they had duties on board, and then the hostess retired into a corner and wept, while the diminished party made a silent and savage raid on the champagne and sandwiches. It was in sober truth a tragedy, and the scorned local men can afford to be magnanimous. They declare, however, that they never, never, never will enter that doomed honse again. One imagines it will be a considerable lime before the hostess endeavours another party.

PRAISE from Sir is praise indeed.’ The S.B. thus eulogises Maoriland legislation : —‘ A glance at the just-to-hand M.L. statutes for 1895 session shows that the local democrat is up and doing. Most noticeable, and probably most far-reaching in its consequences, is the Adoption of Children Act drafted on the lines of Roman law. Besides its ordinary use, it will probably be widely resorted to as a means of removing the effects of illegitimacy from children. The act is a deliberate slap in the face of English common law, which has always positively refused to recognise adoption (perhaps for good reasons, who can say ?). The Family Homes Act does for the poor what the marriage and other settlements already do for the rich—saves the Home from the mortgagee and assignee, on an equitable basis. The Wages Attachment Act keeps small wages from the garnishee. The Servants Registry Offices Act should prove a useful leech-killer and might well be adopted in Australia. The Corrupt Practices Amendment tries to limit Parliamentary election expenses to ,6'200. The Evidence Amendment contains novel clauses defining ‘ proper ’ and ‘ improper ’ questions with reference to the bullying cross examiner. It also protects confessions to ‘ ministers ’ and medical men, but rather injudiciously extends the admissibility of confessions extracted by detectives, etc. The Property Law Consolidation Act contains a most useful provision allowing payment of mortgage money to the Treasurer when the lender is out of the country. The Reprint of Statutes Act is a preliminary to an extens’ve consolidation. But it contains references to ‘ obsolete ’ statutes. Are there any such ? If so, should there be ? How draw the line between ‘ blue ’ laws and laws not blue? Adulteration, shop assistants, and cremation are also legislated on. Altogether, the most interesting and progressive set of Australasian statutes of the year

r I IHE grounding of Governor Brassey’s yacht at Hobart, -A- whereby that famous vessel nearly came to grief, was all owing, it now transpires, to a bell-topper. The noble owner had left his boiled Sunday hat on board, and the fact being discovered at the last moment a breathless messenger sprinted for the harbour to recover the lost adornment. The 1 Sunbeam ’ had got her anchor up and was about to make sail when the agent was seen frantically waving himself round his head on the beach, so the vessel was hove to and a boat sent to fetch him. Then there was a long search for the box with the desired article in it, and by the time it was found and delivered the ‘Sunbeam ’ had drifted so close inshore that she couldn’t get out again. After she had gone aground the hat was found to be still on board, the messenger having departed with an empty box. It is a characteristic yarn ; the average Briton would go back to the gates of perdition for his bell-topper if he had accidently left it there. If the Light Brigade had done its famous charge with a plug hat on, and had dropped that plug hat in the midst of the Russian army, the Bulletin verily believes the survivors would have charged back again for it.

f | IHE latter-day young man is certainly rather trying -L in the matter of dancing, but so far as my fairly extensive acquaintance with the species is concerned he is not the ill-mannered pig the Countess of Ancaster tries to make him out. Her ladyship, writing in a periodical, complains first of all that the young people of to-day are too lazy to learn to dance. The necessary study bores them. The girls, she says, do not always take to the waltz, and they cannot be bothered with the quadrille. This is only half truth, the facts being that the girls of to-day have many more sources of innocent amusement open to them than their predecessors, and consequently dancing, which used to occupy much of their time, is to the present generation a mere incidental. Her ladyship deplores the bad manners of dancing people. The young men come forward and, in stead of asking for the honour of a dance, they say ‘ Have a square ? Dance next round ?’ Such, says ‘ a very great lady,’ quoted by Lady Ancaster, is the offhand style of to-day. Then, when * sitting out ’ is the game, the lady is seen following the gentleman out of the ball-room ‘as best she may.’ ‘ The offering of the arm seems to have fallen entirely into disuse.’ Her ladyship is apparently unfortunate in the circle of her acquaintances.

By the way, it may interest you to learn to whom we are indebted for the polka, the origin of which is not generally known. The inventor of the dance was a young Bohemian girl, Haniczka Selezka, a blooming peasant maiden, and the best dancer in the village of Costelec on the River Elbe. She nsed to perform solo dances of her own invention at the various village festivities, and in 1830 at a local farmhouse ball the guests asked her to perform. Haniczka complied, and to music of her own singing danced the polka step, though with infinitely more elaboration than it is performed nowadays. The dance at once sprang into favour and became so popular that later it was made a national dance. The inventor named it the pulku, from which came polku, and finally polka. From Costelec the new dance spread to Prague, and thence to Vienna, and about 1840 it became the rage in Paris. Haniczka Selezka is still alive, but of course her dancing days are over. She has several great grandchildren.

THE slashing attack on the sex novel which the veteran Mrs Oliphant makes in the current Blackwood will, one hopes, do something to suppress that disagreeable description of literature. Mr Grant Allen and his • hill-top ’ novels come in for special censure. This writer, according to Mrs Oliphant, ‘is not a man of genius, but a professor of literature whose crow upon his hill-top (which is very like the lesser mount to which cock-crowing is habitual), is rather an outcry to burst the bosom of the bird that makes it than to arouse the world.’ Rather severe this upon the ‘ Darwinian St. Paul,’ as one of his enthusiastic but scarcely discreet admirers recently christened the author of ‘ The Woman Who Did.’