Minor Matters.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXIV, Issue VI, 10 February 1900, Page 254

Minor Matters.

The New Zealand “Times" says it is informed that a kind-hearted country settler has found employment on his dairy- farm for fhe poor , cripple over whose maintenance for Wellington end Masterton Benevolent Trustees have been squabbling. The brief history- of the case is as follows:—For seven years the man was a station hand in the Castlepoint district. Two years ago he was suddenly stricken with paralysis. For nine months he was an inmate of the Masterton Hospital. Thence he was sent to Rotorua, where 'he benefited much by the treatment. Before he was quite cured, his legs being still w-eak, he was sent to Wellington, and entered the Old Men’s Home. In a fortnight he left voluntarily, and for the last twelve months he earned his livelihood stone-breaking for the City Corporation. The substitution of machine-broken for handbroken metal lately- threw 'him out of employment, and the City BenevolentTrustees thereupon passed him to Masterton.

Up to within a few- minutes of the departure of the Moravian, with the New South Wales and Tasmanian contingents, from Port Melbourne, a sentry was kept patrolling the wharf. By-and-by the crowd became so thick that he could not move. He stood erect and solemn, his bayonet gleaming on 'his rifle, and he took no notice of what went on around. His comrades passed to and fro, kissing every girl that came in reach of them, yet the sentry moved not a muscle. Two girls watched him intently for a minute, then one advanced, and pulling down his head as if to ask a question, kissed him. The other girl went through the same deliberate process. The sentry- uttered no word, but looked straight to his front. His commanding officer was behind him. “You forget you are on guard, sir,” said the officer; “you were kissing those women.” The soldier dropped his rifle to~ attention, saluted, and answered, “No, sir: they- were kissing me.”

This same sentry- was nearly- left behind. When the Moravian was casting off the commanding officer overlooked him in the crowd, thinking, no doubt, that he had been already recalled. The sentry- saw the gangway pulled rip, the hawsers drop from theii- mooring posts, and the streak of blue water between fhe vessel and the pier grow wider and wider. Yet he made no sign. No Roman sentry at Pompeii stood his ground more firmly. When it was beginning to look as if he had been completely forgotten, he was remembered, and it was only a matter of luck .that he was able to jump on board as the stern swung inwards.

The old maids of New Zealand thoroughly endorse the “more men pro-posal”-—they say the more men the merrier!

While fhe accounts were being passed at- the Christchurch Hospital Board meeting the other day, the Chairman came to the item “spirits, £ 56.” He paused, and looked up at the other members sitting round, but they- only reflected his look of astonishment. He paused again, and then looked towards the secretary. That official, with pardonable eagerness, hastened to explain that the bulk of this was consumed in a variety of ways, during Christmas time. “Brandy for the puddings, I suppose,” replied another member blandly. The item was then passed without further comment.

No introduction is considered necessary to gentlemen in khaki going to South Africa (writes Winifred to a Melbourne paper). A tall Queenslander was stamping letters at the General Post-office. Presently a damsel dropped her handkerchief and stooped to pick it up. The soldier also stooped to pick it up. “I beg your pardon," said the man as their heads bumped. “It was my fault," said the girl. “No, altogether mine," sad the man.” “I was looking at the letters on your shoulder,” she confessed. “Yes, I knew you were, and I was trying to look at you while you studied them,” he said smiling. “You are brave to go. I nm so proud of you all,” she said. “Thank you." tie answered; "1 won’t forget that.”

He opened the door for her, and tfl gether they posted their letters. Theu he looked round and said. “Because I am going away, will you shake hands with me and say good-bye, ami because I may never come back will you forgive me asking this?” “Yes,” she said, as she let her hand rest in his. “But instead of good-bye, I win say may God be with you, and come back to me.” And with a smile on her lip and a tear in her eye she ran down the Post-office steps.

Labour is at a premium in the Bruce district just now, owing no doubt to the number of hands required by the contractor for the Fortification Coal Company’s railway line, and to the needs of the approaching harvest. The means deviseji to secure a share of the good things in the shape of wages ruling are many and varied (says the smart local paper); indeed, strikes were of common occurrence at several local industries within the pastmonth, and were made excuses for seeking employment elsewhere. However, for originality and grim determination worthy of a better cause, the following incident is highly amusing: It is related of one young fellow that he obtained a. half-holiday and permission to ride his employer’s horse during that time, and he set off round the district ancl procured employment, which he had had in view, at a neighbouring farm. It was almost a week later (when the farmer incidentally inquired of his neighbour if he had secured anyone ), that anythink was known of the intended change; and a warm quarter of an hour ensued when the late employer and his employee met. The former is not lending horses to the servants now.

The late Colonel Ingersoll was riding in a street car one day, when the Rev. De Witt Talmage (the man with the big mouth who visited New Zealand some years ago ) got in, and they presently fell int.o an argument. Finally Ingersoll said: “Then you would like to live in a place, Brother Talmage, where everyone had to be good by law?” “Certainly',” said Talmage. “You would like to live where everyone had to go to ‘ church regulariy every Sunday?” “Y'es, that would suit me.” “Where no man could get a drink, and swearing was not permitted?” “Y’es, that’s the place for me.” “And where every man would have to keep regular hours?” “That would be heaven on earth,” said Talmage, smiling and striking his knee with his open palm. “Well,” said Bob, looking over his glasses, “y-ou’d better go up to Sing Sing Prison.* That’s the way they do there.”

Illness amongst post office employees in Melbourne has recently' developed alarming proportions. This unfortunate state of affairs is not due to the ravages of an epidemic, for the bacilli to which the illness is due are of such a nature as to defy bacteriological science and the most stringent preventive measures that might be devised by the Health Department.. According to a return submitted to the Postmaster-General, the employees are suffering through the decision of the Cabinet to allow them full pay for sick leave. As soon as that- concession was granted, it is observed, the health of the staff began to seriously' decline. In December, 1898, only- 75 officers were reported as being ill, and they were absent from their duties for a total of only 73 weeks. In December last, when the full pay was commenced, 155 officers declared on the sick list, and they were absent for a total of 189 weeks. Mr Watt has but little sympathy for the majority of these weaklings. He has given instructions that returns of the sick lists must be submitted to him at. the end of every month, and that- a sharp look-out must be kept for the detection of malingerers.

The Queen, it is announced, has expressed satisfaction on learning that a gentleman in England has five sons and a nephew in the army, three of whom are serving in South Africa. This colony can better that, Mr J. H. Legge, of Gosford, has five sons for the front—two there, nnd three on their way. That is probably a record for the ctrrrviit war; nnd it is certainly far ahead of the English case mentioned. .

A Dunedin man paying a visit to Invercargill remarked that it must.be very cold there in the winter, being so far north. "Well,” replied a fullfledged Invercargillite, “I think it maun juist be as cauld whaur ye cam’ fre.” “Why do you think that,” questioned the Glasgow man. “Weel, because a gey lot o’ ye have red noses.”

The common, but neither safe nor sensible practice of throwing a sack over a chimney that has taken lire, was the cause of a ringing of the firebell and considerable excitement in Invercargill the other day. A chimney in a house in Don-street had taken fire, and in order to smother the flames a sack was thrown over the exit. The consequence was that the stiffled smoke poured out through the joints of the brickwork, filled the wall spaces and showed alarmingly through the weatherboarding, some of which at the baek of the chimney was hastily torn off. This caused a- general impression that the house was on fire. When the brigade arrived the true cause of the trouble was noticed, and the sack being removed things resumed normal conditions. Moral: Stop the draught in a burning chimney at the fireplace.

Here is a capital “old time” yarn of sheep driving.days, as told by a writer signing himself "Omega”:—lt was a cold night and we were all huddled round the camp fire, with our blankets drawn over our heads, yarning. It had been wet all day, but the rain had cleared off at sundown. There were six of us all told, including the cook, and we were travelling with sheep. We were a mixed lot, but taken all round I never worked with a better crowd, bar the cook. He was a bit of a fraud, with his patent stew, which he gave us six meals out of ten, but so long as he was not in liquor he was nqt too bad. When he got drunk, which he did pretty regularly, he was a fair knock out. He came from the North of Ireland, and although generally as peaceful and inoffensive as a child, when he imbibed freely nothing would serve his turn but blood. We were camped .at the Quarries a few miles outside Bourke. It had been raining- for days, and the whole country for miles around, bar the little bit of high land on wh’ch the tent was pitched, was six inches under water. After yarning feebly for some little time and smoking a pipe or two we all turned in —bar the man on watch and the cook, whom we had not seen since tea-time. We were just dropping, off to sleep when suddenly we heard a fearful howl. Out we scrambled, and there was Mister Cook, stark naked save for his hat and boots, chasing poor old Bill —the chap on watch —with an axe and shoutinglike a madman. He was gaining at every stride, and the prospects of an early funeral looked particularly bright when old Bill, hearing- our cries, twisted suddenly and came rushing towards the tent with the cook after him yelling like a fiend. Into the tent darted Bill blowinglike a. grampus and fairly done up, with the lunatic on his heels, and striking the pole as he fell brought the tent down on top of them both. By David, you should have seen the wriggle! Bill battled for his dear life and screamed like a woman, while the cook howled enough to wake the dead. Luckily for poor old Bill there was no room for any axe work, but by Jove when we got the tent off, which we did particularly smart, the cook had his teeth in the old fellow’s throat and was tearing at it like a mad dog. It was the nearest kind of thing for Bill that you ever saw, for we had to hit the cook over the head with a tent stake and knock him senseless before he’d let up. We tended Bill’s throat, which was hanging in flaps and bleeding a hurricane. After a long time we fixed it up until morning, and then ran him into Bourke in the cart. As for the cook, we just tied his hands and feet with greenhide and dumped him down outside naked as he was to sleep it off. My colonial! If you’d have seen that cook in the morning after the mosquitoes had done with him, and with a lump on his head as big as an emu’s egg, you’d have said that you never saw a sicker or sorrier man in your life!