Minor Matters.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXIV, Issue XX, 19 May 1900, Page 924

Minor Matters.

The war is prolific of good stories — pathetic, humorous, wise, and otherwise. Here is one that was told to me the other day:—Two Irishwomen were comparing notes. They both had sons at the front, doing honour to the “on Id counthry,” and bravely proving the loyalty of Irishmen to their (jueen. One asked the other how her boys were doing, and was answered: “Oh, grandly. They are happy as they can be, begorra—shooting Protestants all day long!”

The wounded Tommies on board the yacht Rhouma. at Capetown, which has for the time being been turned into a convalescent home, are a plucky set ot fellows and grateful. With every comfort and attention that could be be- * stowed upon them, the patients on board this floating hospital have, relates the Cape “Argus.” apparently felt that they must do something in return. They set athinking how they could od this. In true soldierly fashion it was decided that to challenge the crew of the yacht to play a football match was the best way out of the difficulty. For the moment their helpless limbs, wounded bodies, and aching heads were forgotten with the prospect of a tussle in the football field. The challenge was accordingly sent in, but the event has not yet come oft. The centre forward still requires the use of crutches, the goalkeeper is badly handicapped with a-, bandage over one of his eye*», and several of the team still bear unmistakable signs of a rather rougher game than football. However, when once the physician has done his work, should the skipper of the tiny craft be inclined to accept the challenge, there is no doubt that there, will be an interesting game for the lovers of the game. Albeit the rope-haulers and brass polishers will find their erstwhile patients a tough lot, and the skipper mayhave a smart craft, but he will require a very smart pack to beat them.

A few years ago a large: party, headed by the Duke, of Norfolk, went on a tour through the Continent. The duke busied himself very much on the journey in a kind-hearted way about the welfare of every one in the party. At every station he used to get out and go round to see if he could do anything for any one. One old woman, who did not know him. when she arrived at last in Rome, tired and hot, found great difficulty in getting a por» ter. So she seized on the duke. “Now. my good man," she said, “I've noticed you at all these stations loafing about. Just make yourself useful for once in your life. Take my bag and find me a cab." The duke mildly did as hr was bid and was awarded a sixpence. “Thank you. madam," he said. “I shall prize this, indeed! It is the first coin 1 have ever earned in mv life." 4' 4* 4* Northfield, Vermont, has taken a new step in the total abstinence ranks. It has voted that the names of all persons in the town who buy liquor shall be printed in the local newspaper, amt if one is refused liquor who has tried to get it that the reason for such refusal also shall be printed. The tetotallers expect that the business of the agency will he very much abridged and it probably will be. but that may mean that persons who really need liquor for proper purposes will go without it. 'There is something humorous about this method of treating the liquor question it cannot be called the tempera nee question, since there is as much intemperanee about this as about the other side of the matter. One who lives in a little town in a prohibition district grows to maturity with an idea that a person who takes any kind of liquor for any purpose whatever is utterly without the pale, and when e\|>erience throws such an ignorant youth into the world and he sees things so different from what hr has lieen led to believe, the effect is certain to be bad upon him. Those who really wish to teach temperance and to help along the cause of total abstinence would do much better to teaoh the truth as it is than to teach what they would like to have the truth be but which it is not. A great deal of the teaching which is given for children on the effect* of liquor is distinctly untrue. It is a poor cause which cannot stand the whole truth.

The use of watermelons as a postbag- by Boer sympathisers with tho prisoners of war at Simonstown was ingenious and novel. But it will no doubt curtail the supply of creature comforts and such little luxuries as may have tended to lighten the tedious and privations which must be a necessary accompaniment of their imprisonment. Il proves (says a Cape exchange) how dangerous to the peace of that portion of South Africa is the presence of so large a number of Boers in a district honey-combed with disaffection and the hiding place of disloyalists. who Jack only the opportunity to imitate the example of tho mad fools who have selected Kenhardt, Prieska and surrounding districts for their rebellious antics. The folly of locating the Paardeberg prisoners at Green Point was happily prevented in time, and they are instead enjoying the pleasures of St. Helena. 4- 4? +

Queer, isn't it, how much more readily one can raise money for a charity if it is mothered by some prominent woman? Also how much more interest there is in the finest display of pictures when some woman known for her wealth, if for nothing more, consents to pour tea. Wasn't it Thackeray who said we are all snobs at heart? 1 don't believe it, but at times it does look as if that were the fact. However, there are others who take men and women for what they are, regardless of externals. It is what a man is. not what he has, that makes him really count. He proves this when what he has takes wings.

In Arthur Lawrence's new life of Sir Arthur Sullivan, published by Stone, of Chicago, there is this anecdote, told by Sir Arthur himself:—l was travelling on a stage in rather a wild part of California, and arrived at a mining camp, where we had to get down for refreshments. As wo drove up the driver said, “They are expecting you here, Mr Sullivan.’ I was much pleased, and when! reached the place I came across a knot of prominent citizens at the whisky’ store. The foremost came up to a big, burly man by my side and said, “Are you Mr Sullivan?” The man said no and pointed to me. The citizen looked at me rather contemptuously and after a while said, “Why, how much do you weigh?’ I thought this was a curious method of testing the power of a composer, but at once answered, “About one hundred and sixty-one pounds.” “Well, said the man, that’s odd to me anyhow. Bo you mean to say that you gave fits ‘to John S. Blackmore down in Kansas city?” 1 said. "No. 1 did not give him fits. He then said, “Well, who are you?” [ replied. “My name is Sullivan.” “Ain't you John L. Sullivan, the slugger?” I disclaimed al! title to that, and told him I was Arthur Sullivan. “Oh, Arthur Sullivan,” he said. “Are you the man ns put ‘Pinafore’ together?” rather a gratifying way of describing my composition.' I said, ‘A es. ’ “\Vell,” returned the citizen, “1 am sorry you ain't John L. Sullivan. But still 1 am glad to see you anyway. Let s have a drink.” + 4r 4-

Alas! all of them were disappointed. On Hie decisive day the lady judges looked them all over carefully, and then awarded the two prizes to a gentleman who rejoiced in a magnificent beard, and who had never taken the slightest pains with his moustache, and to a ballet girl, who had put on a man's clothes for the occasion. It is said that the ladies’ decision Ims sadly discomfited, not only Ihe disappointed competitors, but also the barbers, since they naturally fear that this public preference shown for beat-tied gentlemen is almost certain to hurt their trade. 4- 4- 4-

A certain Dunedin lady is rather proud of her four-year-old son, who, if the truth must be told, has matters pretty much his own way. Freddy, as we will call him (says the “Star”), is never thoroughly happy unless he hns something of value entrusted to him—for the youngster has an exalted opinion of his acuteness. The other day, while aecotn|M«nying his mother on a shopping excursion, Freddy was made happy by being allowed to carry the purse. After an inspection of two or three shop-win-

dows, the lady asked Freddy for the purse. He handed it over without ft murmur —a circumstance that struck the mother as being- rather odd. As it happened, the lady had not been in possession of the purse many minutes before one of the light-fingered fraternity relieved her of it. She was not aware of her loss until she put her hand in her pocket to pay for some goods. “Good gracious!” she ejaculated, “my purse has gone! Whatever shall I do?” To the surprise of the tradesman, as well as the lady, Freddy dived his hand into his pocket and produced a number of coins. “I wanted to carry somefin’, mamma,” he explained, “so 1 kept the money.” Freddy's desire to “carry somefin’ ” had saved his mother five or six pounds, and had, no doubt, slightly disappointed the pickpocket.

It is not generally known that, in spite of the warm liking he inspires in those above and under him, some of Colonel Hector Macdonald's dusky Soudanese once mutinied against him. His regiment had to make long forced marches under the fierce desert sun, and the conditions were so hard that the men became mutinous. One day Macdonald overheard two or three of the native soldiers saying, “Wait till the next fight, and I will take care that this slave-driver of a colonel does not come out alive. I myself will shoot him.” Macdonald at once called a halt and sternly ordered the culprits to step out from the ranksv Facing them he cried, “Now, you are the men who are going to shoot me in the next fight. Why wait so long? Why not do it now? Here 1 am, shoot me—if you dare!” The rebels grounded their arms in sullen silence. “Why don’t you shoot?” asked their colonel. “Because you don't seem to care whether you die or not,” and that reluctant answer explained the secret of Macdonald's power over half-savage soldiers. There was no more grumbling, and the same men, and others like them, followed him devotedly through the battles of Gemaizah. Toski, Afafit, Ferkeh, Atbara and Omdurman.—“Collier's Weekly.”

Assuredly we live in strange times, when, if a man wants to push himself into the front ranks, -he must, as Yankees put it. hustle. A young commercial recently on a business trip, happened to stop for a couple of days in -. He wanted to get some advertising, and had read about the “king of the dudes.” He had £2 to spare, and he accordingly went to a bargain sale at which they had a lot of last summer soeks at a shilling a pair. He spent the money on these things, and went out of the way to get the loudest effects in the place. Then he spent the day in the corridor of the hotel sitting in a conspicuous place showing off the socks. He would wear a pair for about twenty minutes, go to his room, change, and, coming down, show off another design for about the same time. He did this for almost ten hours and naturally attracted quite a good deal of attention, but he could not break into the newspapers. The only recognition he got was from the lady clerk, who. when he was paying his bill, said: “You ought to patent that invention.” “What's that?” asked the sock man, with an anticipatory smile, as he expected something complimentary about his scheme. But the beauty crushed him with the query: “Don’t vou do that for cold feet?”