Notes and Notions.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXII, Issue XI, 18 March 1899, Page 332

Notes and Notions.

How to stamp out ‘street betting’ is again agitating the public mind in Wellington and Auckland. There is no possible doubt that the present state of affairs in Wil’is ->t., Wellington, and in Queen St., Auckland, is disgraceful, and cannot be longer tolerated, but the question is, what is the best way of dealing with the difficulty? At the risk of falling into the bad books of some friends of the ‘Graphic,’ I would boldly state my absolute conviction that any attempt to utterly abolish betting by means of laws and bye-laws will not only fail, but would do incalculable mischief. It would mean the creation of clubs where other forms of gambling besides racing would be introduced, and where any amount of dirty work might go on secure from interruption or interference. Those who know nothing of the subject will ooject that the police would ‘raid’ such clubs and break them ■Up. Anyonewhohaslivedina city where these clubs exists knows differently to that. Cunningly erected barriers, a system of signs, and unceasing watchfulness baffle the cleverest police in Melbourne, London, Liverpool, or any other great city. I have been in these clubs in all the cities named, and know that ‘raiding’ is always attended with such barren results that it is never attempted, save once in a year or so, just to blind the public, and to appease the anti-betting agitator. And that the evil of club betting is thrice the evil of street betting no man of the world will dispute. The street betting must be of its sort fair and above board. It is practically, so io say. under public, and even polio.:, surveillance. A gross swindle or robbery cannot be carried on half so conveniently in the public thoroughfare as safely within four walls, where any attempt to create a disturbance with the proprietor would have unpleasant, not to say dangerous, results. A.-o. let me set forth another belief, for whick I am likely to be regarded with disfavour by some, that the betting as at present carried on is tolerably straightforward and fair so far as the bookmakers are concerned. It is the fashion in both Wellington and Auckland to lavish hard names and ao se on that fraternity. A letter in the Wellington paper signed by ‘A Father’ alludes to them throughout as spielers This is unjust. The business may not be a desirable one, but it is, I believe, carried on in the main as fairly and straightforwardly as any other business. Black sheep and swindlers there are amongst them, as there are amongst doctors, lawyers, tradespeople, business men, and even clergy; but the majority of metallicians are, I firmly believe, as fair as the rest of humanity in ‘doing a deal.’ But, ‘something too much of this.’ Let me lint give my solution of the difficulty, and I am done. In brief, then, to abolish betting is impossible, and if it must be, ’tis better in the street than elsewhere, only it should not be in the main street. Let some convenient place be selected, and let it be (inferentially) understood that little police interference need be expected there, but that the corners of Queen and Willis streets will be made too hot to hold either bookmaker or client. Stern moralists will doubtless be shocked at this suggested connivance at what is, 1 admit, an evil; but it is the only way to avoid a still greater one. and ‘of two evils choose the least.’ + + +

At Invercargill, the other day. the regatta was completely spoilt by a fearful gale, which raged furiously the whole afternoon. It was miser; able and chilly and dull, so that when it was announced that there had been a capsize and that two boats had sunk, the thrill of horror which ran round was not without its compensating value in excitement. The crowd grew quite animated again and assembled in force to see the ghastly spectacle of bringing home the departed. However, some three hours later, it was found that no one had been drowned, and that no boats had capsized. They simply could not tack up against wind and tide, and anchored or ran ashore awaiting a lull. It

was good news, of course, and everyone declared themselves relieved; but, nevertheless, human nature is human nature, and the majority of faces betrayed the fact that their owners felt in some ways that they had been ‘done.’ All that long wait and not even the corpse of a cat at the end of it seemed what Sam Weller would have called a ‘reglar do.’

Speaking of capsizes and yachting upsets reminds me of the story of a certain M.P. of a past generation not noted for his habits of personal tidiness or cleanliness. He was visiting-—■ well, let us say—Auckland, though it was not there really. One day while out in a yacht with a sailing party he was swept overboard, but was happily rescued. When the excitement was over a young fellow rushed down into the cabin. ‘By Jove!’ he exclaimed. ‘we’ve been having sueh an exciting time on deck.’ ‘What is it?’ asked everybody. ‘Mr Blank was washed overboard.’ ‘l’m glad of it,’ snapped a fastidious matron. Everybody was horrified. ‘Well, I am,’ she explained. ‘Just think of that man being washed on board.

A Southland resident jumped on to a train at Invercargill recently while it was in motion. A lynx-eyed official detected the act, nabbed his man, and forthwith demanded his name. ‘Name, man!’ replied the gentleman with magnificent surprise. ‘Do you mean to say you don’t know me? Why, I am the Mayor of Waik—’ The abashed official apologised and withdrew from the carriage with the due obeisance; but the identity thus established did not satisfy the authorities, who forthwith despatched another official with instructions to obtain name and address of a gentleman of distinguished mien and step like a Life Guardsman’s. This mission was (says the local paper) eventually successful, and the ‘Mayor’ was forthwith taken before the Beak and mulcted in the usual fine. ♦ +

There is trouble in Palmerston North over the gentlemen who will insist in making a bedroom of the public Square. It would seem that the rising inland town is not free from the presence of the cadger and the lounger, and that by day as well as by night, the enclosed part of the Square (th e glory of Palmerston) is ‘decorated’ with the recumbent figures of ‘Wleary Wlillie’ and ‘Tired Tom’ in all stages of dress and undress. Thje local paper points out that there are two sides to the question as to whether the police shall or shall not move on the restful gentry. In the first place, it may be considered an advisable thing in a town such as Palmerston to have a place which serves as a dumping ground for the casuals who drift from other parts, and who, but for the scope afforded them in the Square, would be a constant source of annoyance to respectable people by prowling about their premises, both by day and by nigt In this respect!, the plantations within the Square act as a safety valve to the rest of the community, and, therefore, in abolishing the evil that exists we may be flying to‘others that we know not of.’ On the other hand, as the ‘Standard’ justy observes no one can pretend that Palmerston and the surrounding district is in such a congested condition that the persons who frequent the Square need be either so homeless or penniless that they must resort to these plantations as a sleeping place. The paper goes on to assert that it is only the lazy and dissolute who can want to sleep in the Square in the day time, and in this it is undoubtedly right. The faces of those who use the public gardens and parks of New Zealand as a dormitory in the day time are almost invariably of the lowest type, and hear ample evidence of King Beer.

Snobbishness is a rampant vice in every part of the colony, but it has always seemed to me Auckland excelled in that respect. It is, indeed, a perfect hot-bed of snobbery, and forces a class of ‘bounder’ of a more objectionable type than any to be found elsewhere. The ladies of the Benevolent Society organised a monster dance last week, and in the sacred cause of charity invited universal patronage. Arrangements were made for a thousand couples, hut only about three hundred dancers turned up. while the spectators must have numbered at least two thousand. Everywhere, amongst those looking on. one heard the same murmur; ‘So sorry 1 didn’t

come, but I thought it would be so mixed.’ ‘Ain’t it sick-ning?’ as some one says in ‘Paul Jones.’ Of course it was ‘mixed.’ Colonial society from top to bottom is ‘mixed,’ and a mighty good thing, too. One woman who had the impudence to make this remark to me, and say she really couldn’t allow her daughters to come to so “mixed’ an entertainment, was within my personal recollection a cook. Her husband has ‘got on,’ and is able to do things well, and consequently a vulgar, over-dressed woman is admitted to the ‘naisest set, and talk about a ball being ‘mixed.’ Yah! it makes one ill. ‘Mixed,’ indeed! 1 should rather think Auckland society was mixed, for at this same dance might have been observed the edifying sight of the youthful scion of one of the smartest families leisurely picking his teeth with his finger (in the supper-room) while talking to his mother. Both were absolutely unconscious of offence, and both consider themselves, and are, indeed, considered amongst the leaders of local society. Things are bad enough in the Old Country, but they are a thousand times worse in the eolony, and in Auckland the worship of Mammon is carried to an extent that is absolutely nauseating. No vulgarity, no caddishness are too pronounced for acceptance if the dollars are right.

According to the Taieri local paper there are some mighty smart fellows in that part of the eolony. A man down there had forty acres which he wanted ploughed, the usual price being 20/ per acre. He offered prizes for a ploughing match, first prize £5, second £3, third £2. All the best talent rolled up, with teams and ploughs, wives and families. Judges were appointed, and the whole thing eost £ 12, for prizes and refreshments. Smart!

Under the heading of‘An Unrehearsed Incident,’ a Southern contemporary tells an amusing dog story, the events of which happened last week. The reporter of an old - established paper at Temuka is the proud possessor of a very handsome spiuiel. who faithfully attends his master at all sorts of functions, and usual 1,/ acts with the greatest propriety. On the occasion of the performance of ‘Shamus O’Brien’ by the Henry Dramatic Company at Temuka. on Monday evening last week, this dog managed, as usual, to evade the vigilance of the doorkeepers and secure a comfortable position in the stil's near his master. He took little interest in the drama until the inevitable gun went off, when his sporting instincts were aroused. He at once jumped upon the stage, rapidly investigated matters, and then hunted round the dressing rooms for the hare or rabbit. He returned shortly in disgust, without indicating what lie had found, and took up his original position, although evidently on the •qui vive.’ A second attempt to display himself upon the stage was frustrated, but in the final scene, when Finn, the informer, is shot, the dog's feelings again overcame him, and he made another searching investigation. He evidently recognised that on this occasion there had been a. slaughter, and seemed to feel some sympathy with Finn. His attempts to revive the actor by licking his rather thickly-painted face must have proved rather trying to the victim, and the tableau was only saved from being spoiled by a whistle which brought the dog 'from the stage, amongst cries from the pit of Good Old Jack.* a- compliment which the dog evidently appreciated.

It is highly satisfactory to learn that a Society for the Protection of Women and Children has been formed in Dunedin. Its objects are:(1) 1 o prosecute in cases of cruelty, seduction, outrage, or excessive' violence to women and children; (2) to give advice and aid to women who have been cruelly treated; (3) to make provision for children in homes when it is found the parents or guardians are unfit persons to have charge of them; (4) to agitate for the improvement of the statute laws with a view to the more effectual protection of women and children(s) to organise girls’ clubs for social intercourse and mutual improvement. No more valuable societies exist thnn these, and one should be established in every big city in the colony. They do exist, if I mistake

not, in Wellington and Auckland. Christchurch I am uncertain of. •4* *4* *4* The Cromwell rabbits (says the local journal) are so numerous, and press so heavily upon the means of subsistence, that if present progress is followed out they will develop into carnivorous animals. We have it on indisputable authority that a lady in Cromwell saw a rabbit, which is in the habit of coming round her place to pick up scraps, sitting on its hind legs eating something which it held between its fore paws. She approached it to see what it was up to, and on its running away she found that the dainty morsel it was enjoying was a knuckle bone that had' been thrown out that day. Another person reports having seen a rabbit making a determined onslaught on a chicken. It is high time something was done to kill off or feed the rabbits soon, or else it will not be safe to leave babies in their cradles. Next, please! •F ♦ The gold at Taupo, and the report of the Government expert thereon, gave the ‘Hawke’s Bay Herald’ opportunity for an admirably written leader last week, in which the writer chattily recalled all the different co-called discoveries which have excited a passing and enthusiastic attention during the past couple of decades or so. Of the Taupo matter he says with wisdom: —‘So persistent have been the reports in regard to evidences of gold in the Taupo country that it is reasonable to believe there is a foundation for such statements. Two or three years ago some West Coast prospectors found good specimens in native country, and the natives becoming aware of it, and, bitten by the Thames boom which was then raging, modestly offered to part with their interest in the country to the Government for the paltry consideration of two millions! Somehow the offer was not taken up, but prospecting has been carried on there ever since by stray parties. It is very possible that eventually quartz lodes may be found in the centre of this island. How else account for the fact that favourable w’ashings may be obtained from almost any river which comes from the interior? It is scarcely likely, however, that alluvial gold will be discovered, or the wary prospectors who have been examining the country so long would have discovered it. There still remains the hope that rich goldbearing reefs mav be found.’ ♦ ♦ ♦ Wellington Working Men’s Club catches it hot in a paragraph in the ‘Temperance News,’ a paper published in Melbourne. It says: ‘An example of the part drink plays in “clubs” is afforded by the publication of the balance-sheet of the Wellington (N.Z.) Working Men’s Club and Literary Institute for the half-year ending December, 1898. The number of works in the circulating library is now nearly 3,500. The readingroom is supplied with sixty-two various papers, periodicals, and magazines for the use of readers, the total expenditure on this branch being £ll6 1/4. By the rules its objects are declared to be “to promote genial and social intercourse among the members, and to provide a reading-room, library, writing materials, chess, draughts, cards, dominoes, billiards, and 'such other amusements as the committee may think tit.’ What are these other amusements? The greater part of them pertain to the pleasures of strong drink, writ large and unmistakable on the face of the bal-ance-sheet as follows: — Sulxjriptions £ 1”9 1 0 Library deposits .... 7 17 6 Bar receipts (including tobacco, etc.) 3152 17 10

Total £3643 3 6 As the membership of the club is stated to be 870, the expenditure at the bar represents £3 12/6 per head. Of the total revenue no less than 86 per cent, is contributed in this way. For the half-year ending 31st December. 1895. the bar receipts were £2483 19/2, with a membership of 824, or £3 0/3 per head; for the next half-year they were £2511 16/10, with a. membership of 811. or £3 1/8 per head: now they are. £3152 17/10, or £3 12/6 per head. The increase per head is a little

over 20 per cent., and the total annual expenditure has risen from £4995 16/ to £6305 15/8, an increase of 26 per eent. It must be admitted the figures are rather eye openers, and will cause much distrust of ‘the Club’ in the bosoms of female belongings of members. Though usually ‘agin’ the prohibition faddist, I think the ‘Teinpearance News’ scores a distinct hit in this instance. * * * In the same journal, however, there' appears one of those ‘bogey stories’ of the ‘dreadful drink’ which do so much to bring the temperance orator into contempt with so many of us. Here it is: A saloon-keeper in Ohio was standing in the door of his elegant saloon —a ‘gin palace.’ Playing on the steps was a lovely little boy about six years old, handsomely dressed, with rosy cheeks, clear eyes, white forehead, wavy hair—just such a little fellow as many of you have in your Own homes, and love to pet and caress. After looking at the child for a moment, the saloon-keeper went to his counter, mixed a tempting drink of wine, water, and sugar, with “If few drops of something strongersuch a drink as he knew well how to prepare—and handed it to the child. The little fellow thanked him, and began to drink.’ A gentleman who stood by, the same who told the incident, said to the saloon-keeper, ‘That child did not pay you for the drink.’ ‘Oh,’ he replied, ‘I shall get my pay.’ The gentleman did not understand it. ‘What do you mean? The boy does not intend to pay you. How will you get your pay?’ ‘I consider that a safe investment. The money is out at interest. That child belongs to the wealthiest families in the neighbourhood.’ What was the man’s intention as he stood and looked at the innocent child and mixed the drink at the counter? It was to start him on the road that leads by the way of the dram shop to drunkenness, and ends, only too soon, at the devil. And that is the stuff most saloon-keepers are made of.’ ♦ ♦ ♦ The vast majority of the paragraphs in the ‘Temperance News’ show plainly that the editor while an earnest advocate of temperance, is yet a man of liberal thought and undoubted literary ability and attainments. Is it possible, therefore, he cannot see how obviously ‘faked’ is this precious story? That no such incident ever occurred—that it is the creation of a fanatic—is writ large in every line. 1 honestly believe that the attempt to palm off such stories as these on grown, thinking men and women has lost many a friend to the temperance cause. What self-respect-ing man or woman cares to ally Themselves in however good a cause with persons who use so childish and contemptible methods as these stories to further their cause? and the average temperance orator simply reeks of them.

Boys who rob orcharas (and, hang affectations of morality, which of us has not in thought or deed done the same years ago when we were lads?) must henceforward beware of a deadlier weapon than the ‘stick’ or ‘strap’ —the inevitable portion of those eaught in the act. Orchardists are complaining about the destruction worked by the small birds, the blackbirds in particular. A Taranaki settler has poisoned some of the apples in his orchard in the hope of diminishing the number. This, as the local print points out, is a rather risky thing to do, as another enemy of orehardists—the human pilferer—might annex some of the undoubtedly forbidden fruit. 4t 4> 4> A cheerful and homely little yarnlet which will appeal to most of us who've been married some years comes from a Rangitikei contemporary. A mischievous young girl found a package of love letters that had been written to her mother by her father before they were married. The daughter saw that she could have a little sport, and read them to her mother, substituting her own name for that of her mother, and a fine young man for that of her father. The mother jumped up ami down in her ehair, shifted her feet, seemed terribly disgusted, and forbade her daughter having anything more to do with u young man who would

write such sickening and absurd stuff to a girl. When the young lady handed the letter to her mother to read, the house became so still that you could hear the grass grow outside. • The only comment I have to make on the above story, which is exceedingly ‘ben trovato’ so far as I am concerned, is this, that no woman ever forgets the letters her lover wrote to her. The story may be true, but (pardon, oh Rangitikei editor) presuming it is original and not ‘clipped.’ the ladies of Rangitikei are unlike their sisters in other places.

The battle of whether Napier is or is not a smellful city, where typhoid germs enjoy an idealistic existence, is still shaking the Hawke’s Bay capital literally to its foundations. To the passing visitor the present discussion and consequent ‘awful revelations’ will come with something of a shock. It’s about a year ago since this scribe was in Napier in company with a brother journalist —a globe trotter for the nonce —and, curiously enough, we both remarked on the exceptional cleanliness of the Napier streets, and the absence of the multitudinous stinks which disgrace most colonial cities. It is of course possible that Napier may be insanitary. In view of the fuss being made, it is indeed probable; but, if this is so, God help the rest of us. We are in hard case. If Napier, the sweet smelling, be unclean, how about—well, say foul Auckland? <fr 4h 4My police court stories last week have resulted in quite a crop being sent in by kindly correspondents. Most of them, unfortunately, are ‘chestnuts,’ but the following, alleged to have occurred at Napier, is both neat and —so far as I know—new: — Scene: Police Court. Irish witness just been sworn. Magistrate: ‘Do you know the nature of an oath?’ I. Witness: ‘Yes, sorr.’ Magistrate: ‘Do you know it is a very serious thing to swear falsely?’ 1. Witness: ‘Yes. sorr.’ M.: ‘Now, what will happen if you give false evidence?’ I. W.: ‘Our side will win. sorr.’ M.: ‘Stand down.’ 4? 4? 4> The girls of Dunedin are still busily hunting for evidence as to the identity of a gentleman signing himself ‘Tourist’ in the evening paper. They want to interview ’Tourist’ badly, for he has been ‘saying things’ about them in the paper. His letter is too long to quote in extenso, but after complimenting Dunedin on its fine girls (and they are hard to beat, and that’s a fact). ‘Tourist’ growls as follows: —‘What I complain of is the utter lack of artistic taste and style in the matter of dress. In one thing only' do you show to advantage—you do not as a ride tight lace, anil in this, to my mind, you show better sense than your Australian sisters: for a sensible man likes to see a substantial waist. But, there is an indescribable something lacking, which 1 find difficult to express in writing. Y’our walking is shocking; in many cases it resembles poultry. Surely deportment is not taught in your schools; if so, the teachers are not competent. It is no good putting forward the excuse of the hills; that 1 refuse to accept. Then, again, in the matter of colour in dress, there seems to be little thought given as to what harmonises. I saw a girl yesterday, with red hair, dressed in a white dress, with a huge yellow sash, anil a blue sunshade. The sight caused a nasty taste in my mouth. ‘Now, girls, ponder over what I have written. You have the raw material to work upon, why not work it up better, and make yourselves look neater, nattier, and more taking to the masculine eye? If you do this, the Registrar of Marriages would have to increase his staff, for surely no man would be able to resist von. —I am, etc., TOURIST.’ 4’4' + No doubt, though I don’t happen to have seen it, some Dunedin Uamto have seen it, some Dunedin damsel lias already sent a stinging answer to letter that I would like a ‘say’ on if I may. Dunedin women had always appeared to me the best-dressed in the colony, and I really don’t see how a poor girl can be expected to ‘dress up to’ a red head of hair. But, as to

walking badly, what he says of Dun edin is even more true of Auckland, and still truer yet of Sydney and Melbourne. The girls don’t walk, they either stride or waddle. In ail seriousness. I do not believe two women in ten in New Zealand or Australia can walk gracefully across a room. It is the more astonishing for the fact that in no part of the worldsave Spain and South America will you find so many perfect dancers as tn the colonies. But once they l>egin to walk—alas! 4* 4 1 4*

it may, or may not, be remembered that a couple of weeks back a ‘note’ appeared in these columns concerning a certain ‘Paterfamilias’ of Hawera who had had the hardihood to assert in the local press that, after trying it. he thought the joys of matrimony were far outweighed by its disadvantages, ami I quoted at length the stinging reply of an outraged Taranaki ’Mater,’ whose letter, so to say. ‘wiped the floor’ with the indiscreet Pater. But that individual is as brave as he is misguided, and returns to the charge in a long letter, a copy of which he sends me. He begins: Tn reply to “Mater’s” letter, not being a literary man, I must have failed to express my ideas in the way I wished. I never for a moment meant to malign the fair sex; quite the contrary in fact. What I contend is that the advantages of married life in this country are quite lost in the hardships and discomforts.’ He then goes on to describe the sort of thing he sees amongst the married folk of Taranaki. It must, be confessed the picture is gloomy, and I hope things are not quite so bad as this pessimistic Pater makes out. He asserts that the men. sad eyed and weary, get up at daybreak. and work until they are utterly incapable of doing any more, when they have their tea and go to bed. The women (God spare them) work all day and half the night, Sunday included. Dear, dear, this is truly awful. One certainly lives ami learns! Who would have thought all this of the •Garden of New' Zealand?’ Welldressed prosperity and a habit, of taking things very easy had always seemed to me the chief characteristics of the district. But there! it just shows how appearances may deceive a visitor. Pater then drops into verse —not his own—on the matter, so I won’t bother about quoting it here, and then goes on dolefully: ‘“Mater" accuses me of having been extravagant. Ah. there I cry touche. One time I used to have a glass of whisky when I met a friend; smoked a pipe, and occasionally went to a race meeting. Those happy days are gone. 1 can’t afford to do any of these things now, not even get my horse shod.’ 1 weep, I really do. for the sorrows of this unfortunate man. who then proceeds to contrast the miserable estate of the married with the opulence and freedom from care enjoyed by bachelors and spinsters. He does not. however, leave us utterly hopeless, for he tells us whose example we may follow. They manage these things much better in France. He once, he informs us. ‘lived in Paris, where the birth rate is low. If a young couple get married there, they either have no children, or limit themselves to one. They hire a room in an hotel and board for, say. £7O a year. The husband has no worries about the household bills, and the wife has only to tidy up her room. Both are at liberty to follow any outside calling they may fancy. And the net result is, everywhere you go you see smiling and happy faces. Why. in another generation the British colonist will have forgotten how to laugh.’ Poor Paterfamilias! The lack of that tot of whisky and the absence of shoes for his horse after a gay bachclordom in Paris have hopelessly embittered him. John Bull will soon have forgotten how to laugh, will lie? Not much, my dear Paterfamilias! Not much, especially while there are funny men like you to write letters to the papers. 4" 4 1 4Writing of marriage, leads by natural sequence of events to writing of babies. How does this strike you: A Mrs Bigger had a baby—which was the larger? The baby, because it was ‘a little bigger.’ Which was the larger—the father or the baby? The father, because he was far the bigger. When the father died, which was the smaller—mother or baby? The baby, because it was far the less.

Billiards 231 2 6 45 10 9 Sale of empties 9 7 2 Sale of pallets 6 8 2 Interest, ete 10 18 7