Minor Matters.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXVI, Issue III, 19 January 1901, Page 107

Minor Matters.

A case came on at the Liverpool PoAiee Court recently, which ought to be a serious warning to that annoying person, the habitual aaorer. William H. Hodgkinson is the individual whose unique experiences point the moral, and whose sad fate undoubtedly adorns the tale. Ha was brought up in the Oldham Workhouse, where he seems first to have picked up the habit of snoring, which he subsequently developed into a second nature as an emigrant in Canada. He recently worked his passage back to this country on a cattle boat, but was robbed of his spare dollars and return ticket, with the result that he found himself, as an alternative to tramping, compelled to occupy a third-class carriage on the London and Northwestern railway in a train bound for Liverpool. There would not have been anything very remarkable or lamentable about this occurrence but for the fact that William H. Hodgkinson had entirely omitted to go through the customary formality of paying his fare. The reason was because he could not afford it. He concealed himself beneath a seat, and would doubtless have reached Lime-street station in safety but for the fact that he fell asleep. Then his unfortunate habit betrayed him. There was no one else in the carriage, but such a “King of Snorers” is William H. Hodgkinson that he alarmed the guard, who thought at first that there was something wrong with the pneumatic break. On reaching Edgehill a search was organised, with the result that he was found fast asleep —and still snoring like a “nor’wester” —beneath the seat. He was fined 20/ or fourteen days. ♦ ♦ ♦ A Change of Shirt. The spick and span young officer who ealmly takes command over veterans grown “grey in battle and victory,” is sometimes an amusing person, particularly if a sense of his own importance is unduly developed. Quite recently, says “Youth’s Companion,” word was received in various South African camps that on such and such a morning every man in Officer ’s army must change . his shirt. The Imperial Light Horse, who formed part of the command, had only one shirt a-pieee, and that was on their backs. So a messenger was despatched to explain. But the honourable and gallant officer, fresh from Sandhurst, knew his business. "If the men of the Imperial Light Horse have not got a second shirt,” said he firmly, "let them change shirts with each other. My orders are imperative.” ♦ ♦ ♦ Bad Spellers. The assertion was made recently that not three members of the House pf Commons could spell “unparalleled” toffhand. Once this would have been no insult, as it used to be said that no gentleman could be so ill bred as to spell correctly. Like Napoleon, statesmen of the past century were too busy in state affairs to mind orthography. The “Evening Post” recalls the old Duchess Of Gordon, who laid down a convenient rule: “You know, my dear, when I don’t know how to spell a word I always draw a line under it, and if it is spelt wrong it passes for a very good joke, and if it is spelt right it doesn’t matter.” — ♦ ♦ ♦ The Attributes Of a Gentleman. What are the attributes of a gentleman? From the formation of the word it would seem that gentleness had something ta do with it, yet one wonders. Do wo not look to our colleges to hold gentlemen, the flower of them all, and de we find gentle traits in the ascendency there? We read of killed and maimed from the favourite game of our collegians; we learn of deaths by hazing and other customs dear to the college boy’s heart, which do not bear any close resemblance to gentle ways, and we wonder jf gentle blood ia expressed in Towglr ow»es, jokes and sports- which cannot be outclassed in the amusemeats of the hoodlums. All women

who live where victories in athleuca are celebrated know enough to keep off the street on the evening of a big game unless they want to meet insult. At such times theatres and restaurant managers have learned to put extra policemen on guard. Is this an indication that our colleges nurture gentlemen? If our colleges and higher schools cannot give us gentlemen, where are they to be sought? Are they to become extinct in order that the strenuous shall keep on a way strewn with broken arms, legs and heads from his pet pleasures? If it must be so we will adapt ourselves to the new situation, though not without a sigh for the time when fashion demanded gentle bearing whatever a man was beyond the externals. Roughness in manners is merely the outward expression of an overbearing, selfish nature, and it is a great misfortune that women of social standing permit men to be rough in their manners and still be received in good society. Roughness is no sign of strength. “The bravest are the tenderest, the loving are the daring.”

Up-Country Racing. Long way back the township was getting along so famously that its citizens determined to have a race meeting. The chief event was the Cup, worth £lO and a new saddle. There was nothing particular about, the race, except the ingenious way the colours were rigged up. The first rider was in "black, white sleeves and cap.” He turned his coat inside out, and wound a pocket handkerchief round his head. - Number two was “black, red cap,” merely a jersey, and his own brilliant red head. The spectators familiarly alluded to him as “Bushfire.” The third rider, however, was the most original of the lot, in “blue, brown cap," only his wife’s blouse and brown stocking wound round his auburn locks. Not a Success. The experiment was certainly not a success. Frequently she had complained that he was not as he used to be, that his love seemed to have grown cold, and that he was too prosaic and matter-of-fact. So when he found one of his old love-letters to her he took it with him the next time he was called away from the city, made a copy of it, and posted it to her. “John Henry,” she exclaimed, when he returned, “you’re the biggest fool that ever lived. I believe that yon have softening of the brain. What did you mean by sending me that trash ?”

“Trash, my dear!” he expostulated. “Yes, trash—just sickly, sentimental nonsense.” “That isn't how you described it when I first wrote it and sent it to you,” he protested. “You said then it was the dearest, sweetest letter ever written, and you insist now that I have changed and you haven’t. I thought I would try to ” “Well, you didn’t succeed,” she interrupted, and she was angry for two days. Sometimes it is difficult to please a woman. Too Un-re-liable. Principally for his awful and invariable mendacity, young Ne’er-do-Well had “got the sack,” and his paternal relative, of course a parson, called on the head of the firm with a view to inducing him to reconsider so harsh-a decision. “But he’s such an awful liar,” objected the man of commerce and veracity; “and it is proverbial that *a Mar is worse than a thief.’ ” “My dear sir,” suavely replied the man of religion, “you should make some allowance for his youth. Might I recommend the exercise, in this as well as in general instances, of that Christian charity which it is my duty to preach, though not more than yours to practise? Since yon speak in proverbs, let me refer you to eme which originated with that wonderful reader of the heart of map— the Psalmist. Tn other words, you should recollect that we are all lia-(r)-ble.”

Pro viden oe. The temiK-rance lecturer, John B, Gough, had occasion in one of his addresses to refer to the indiscriminate and arbitrary, yet consoling doctrine of Providence. He said: Soma people have strange ideas on this metier. Ouce when a ship was in danger a lady went to the captain in great distress. “We must trust in Providence, madam,” said he. ”Goe<A> Mas gracious, is it as bad as that?’’ she cried. A washerwoman had her little shanty burned down. She stood before the wreck and, lifting her eyes to heaven and shaking her fist, exclaimed, “You see if I don’t work on Sundays to pay for that!” In the Firth of Forth a vessel struck on a rock and a tug was drawing nigh to the rescue. A boy. much alarmed, was clingiag to his mother. She said, “Ye must pit yer trust in Providence, Jamie.” “I will, mither, as soon as I get into that ither boat” In New York a Dutchman with a companion went into Delmonico’s to &et lunch. They were charged six dollars. One of the men began to swear, as he thought the charges excessive. “Don’t you swear.” said the other. “Providence has punished that man Delmonico very bad already.” “How is that? How has he punished him?” “Why, I’ve got my po -kefs full of his forks and spoons.” —Kansas City “Independent.”

Advantages of Being Hard-Dp. Jerome K. Jerome, in one of his books, has a short essay on the advantages of having been hard tip. He declares that one appreciates the comforts of not being so much better when one passes the worst, stage. There is something in this worth considering. To go without for a while is likely to make one appreciate what he has, if ever he has anything again, just as one truly “enjoys” good health after he has had a siege of disease. One has then a steady cause for thanksgiving. To enjoy life really it is well to pick out the good things that one finds, and to see them as much as possible. One may see just what one wants to see, good or evil, for both are in each day's passing. If one sees the good, one’s life grows into an inspiration; if one prefers to gaze at the bad, one makes life a burden for one’s self and for every one else with whom one comes in contact. Did She Suit? A widower whom I know recently married a widow (writes “St. Leonards”). They have each young sons at the same boarding school. After the honeymoon they went to the school to see their respective children, and whilst the bride walked away with her husband’s sons, the son of the lady, aged 12, hung round bis stepfather with an anxious face. “What is it?” asked the bridegroom. “Can I do anything for you?” “Yes,” replied the youngster in a whisper. “Tell me”—he pointed over his shoulder towards his mother—“tell me, does she suit?” Colonists No More. An enthusiastic Federalist was holding forth on the glories of the coming union to a select circle in a private bar. “There will be no miore colonies,” he cried. “We shall be all States.” “Then shall we not be called colonists any longer?” asked one who sat at the feet of the teacher. “Certainl not,” was the reply. “In future we shall be all Statests.” ♦ + * If Young Folk Don’t Like Ton. If young folk do not like your company why not see if the fault is not in you instead of in them? One thing is sure, if your society is agreeable it will be sought, and if it is not desired why not amend it so that it shall be? Age alone is not any barrier to association with young or old. Children love to be with their elders until they are told to run away. Steady ■ending away those who feel like loving you or enjoying your company will eventually put them far from you, whereas a welcome to young or oil makes them glad t» be with you and eager to eome again. It seems to me like the height of folly to be cross

with any |>erson for not coming to gea you, because that sort of treatment aloes not make you more agreeable; and then if you are ntot pleasant enough to make one want to be with you. is that not your fault? Why not ’discipline yourself for being so disagreeable? 'Remove the cause and the effect will- change. Be cheerful, kind and just, and make people feel as if they liked yon around, and then you will not need to talk of the degeneracy of the young, pointing your remarks by their avoidance of their elders. No one cares what your years nre so long as your company is desirable. Personality is what counts, and possibly if yours is the kind which keeps those far away whom you would like near you may be able to remodel yours for the better. It is worth trying at least. ~, ) * * * Ltugk and Grow Fat. When a man laughs, why does he laugh? asks Katherine Louise Smith in “Health Culture,” and continues as follows: This question has remained unanswered for thousands of years. Men have been laughing for ages, according to the theory of evolution, but have laughed with as little understanding of the cause of their laughter as any lower animal might if it had the cachinatory faculty. Mr Herbert Spencer, in "Essays on the Psychology of Laughter,” tells us in a very learned way that “a state of mental tension is suddenly interrupted; the flow of energy is pent up and seeks escape.” This is all very well, but hardly explanatory. Mr Darwin thinks laughter a part of man's brute inheritance. We see the dog tinder the influence of mirth first wag his tail, then bark, then caper around his master. The uses of laughter are many. The satirist is the most learned of his time, yet one of the most fearsome to the wicked, and the humorists are the truest painters of pathos and see the significance of life. Some Paris doctors are prescribing the “mirth cure” to depressed and nervous people, on the principle of “laugh and grow fat.” Laughing, taking things good-natur-edly. seeing the inevitably humorous side of all things human, however doleful and tragic, helps a man or a woman to keep healthy and to be as happy .as circumstances will allow. There are physical reasons for this outside of the “mirth cure” theory. A hearty laugh stimulates the nervous system, and stimulation of the nerves has'various other'effects besides that of exciting sensations. As a .result it may act. upon the. viscera, promote or hinder digestion and influence secretions. It may stimulate or check the action of the heart, and accelerate or retard the movements of respiration. Habitual laughter is Certainly beneficial. “A merry heart doeth good like medicine.” .wrote the wise man of old, and also, “He that is of a merry heart has a continual feast.” Cervantes writing his Don Quixote when in prison, unjustly accused. found material to make countless readers laugh down the generations. He had in mind the souiid Spanish proverb. “There is no evil that lasts a thousand years.” + + ■!• Agonizing Alliteration. ~ Silent serenity sat supreme in the pretty pink parlour of sweet Sally's happy home. The miserable moment bf midnight made militant Mortimer Mount joy move. Softly squeezing sweet,- satisfying Sally's sylph-like sixteen-inch sash, he dared to do damage to her lovely lips in the delicious darkness. Luminous lamps lighted the harmonious hallway, but blissful blackness enshrouded the engaged ones in the pretty pink parlour. Suddenly stole on this sumptuously sighing sibilant scene a sad and sorrowful sound. The dire and dreaded voluminous voice of the soft Sally's paternal parent, cruel and coarse, yvas heard iu the hallway. From the top of the tall, steep stairway he roared rumblingly: “Tell me the time!” Sweet, soft, sylph-like simple Sally sighed, then said, glancing gracefully at the ancient, ancestral, artistic, anil amiable anachronism in the humble, harmonious hallway:, . “Please, precious ,papa, ten ticks to ten by the timepiece.?., . r

“So!” snapj>ed She and snarling old cynic. “When that doddering dude departs start the clock.” This was the terrible time of twelve thirty-two. An ancient, ancestral anachronism was again allowed to accelerate the laproximation of its (liands in the humble, harmonious hallway to the zanyistic zenith at twelve thirtythree. Meanwhile mournful, militant Mortimer Mountjo'y miserably made movements, meandering nfeekly to mother in the mild midwinter morning.