HERE AND THERE.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXVII, Issue V, 3 August 1901, Page 225

HERE AND THERE.

The arch erected in Auckland by the Government to grace the Duke s arrival was by far the most substantial of these edifices in the eity. It was ridiculously substantial; in fact, so much so, that it has seemed a cruel waste to pull it down again. So it has remained when all other evidences of the great occasion have passed away. The Government have no objection that it should remain there for ever, and have offered it to the city; but Auckland declines with thanks, hav- , ing no desire to saddle herself with such a piece, of architecture, but rather to be rid of the thing, which, the winter rains having deprived it of its whitewash, now stands revealed in all its pseudo classicality of twelve inch planks and Corinthian pillars of corrugated iron. The Government's idea was that it should remain an arch, and stand us an emblem of the Administration’s loyalty; but 1 fear dismemberment must be its fate, and that if we could trace the various parts of this historic structure we would find them, in the end, serving some useful purpose in the architecture of a backyard hen-house. To such base uses do these things come.

Mr Seddon raised a laugh the other day in the House by suggesting the ■impossibility of anyone getting into bis clothes. As a metaphor the expression may pass, but even more -funny than the idea of anyone of less proportions than Mr Bollard figuring in the Premier’s roomy garments is .the vision one can conjure up of his trying to get into the habiliments of anyone in the House save Mr Bollard. Where, for instance, would Mr Seddon Ibe with Mr Hall-Jones’ suit? Certainly much more out of than in it. Indeed, the Premier’s loneliness in this respect is very apparent. No man in the whole political arena is so dependent on his outward garb. Consider what the sudden deprivation of his own particular attire would mean for him. Other men could cover their nakedness by borrowing from their neighbours or applying to a readymade clothing establishment. But whither would our Othello go? No private wardrobe in Wellington could furnish apparel for Mr Seddon, and the reach-me-down shops' do not stock bis sizes. -The probability is he would have to go to bed till the tailor had fitted him or else come down to the House in a blanket.

There is discord in the Auckland Amateur Opera Club. The Society, which we have been wont to associate with pleasant harmony, is in a somewhat inharmonious condition just at present. Jealousy, I presume, the bugbear of the professional stage, afflicts the amateur too. The trouble all arose out of the decision of the committee to engage a Southern singer to take the part of the Fairy Queen in the forthcoming production of “lolanthe.” The first assumption naturally is that when the club has to go South for a singer it is because equal talent does not offer itself here; and it is an assumption which not a few singers might resent either on their own account or on purely general grounds. There appears to have been a good deal of resentment with the committee’s action, and the upshot was a meeting of the club last week, at which some 50 members were present. The proceedings were decidedly “warm,” and, although private, the nature of them has pretty well lealced out, as was to be anticipated. Mr. Abel Bowe captained the attack, and, indeed, was the chief speaker of the evening, lie wanted to know why the club had to go out of Auckland for its talent. The thing was unheard of in the history of the club. The very idea of the South presuming to come in raised Mr. Howe’s eloquent ire. Why, Christchurch couldn’t even boast of an Amateur Opera Club?' The reflection on Christchurch brought Mr. Towsey to his feet. As a musician he spoke with authority. He opined that the South had every bit as much musical talent as the North. But Mr. Towsey’s championship of the South was cut short by Mr. Howe’s appealing to the chair as to whether Mr. Towsey had a right to speak, not being a member of the club. The chair ruled in Mr. Rowe’s favour. Mr. Gresham, the Coroner, then took up the tale,

and suggested that the club should be called the Wellington-Auckland Club —a facetious proposal that elicited from Mr. Warren the reminder that the occasion was not an inquest. Mr. George Reid spoke in support of the committee’s action, but nothing could suppress the fervour of Mr. Rowe on the other side, and he again went on the warpath. It is said that matters at one point reached such a height that several of the ladies present sought to make their escape, but found their way barred by the doors, which had been locked to ensure the strict secrecy of the meeting. The end of it all was that the committee’s action received the support of an overwhelming majority, but the discomfited faction do not accept the decision with equanimity or grace, and there is much talk on its part.

This is how one journal summarises the fate of the returned trooper from the wars. It is not the popular aspect. of the case. Scene, a ball-room. A crippled colonial soldier, who was been fighting the Boers for twelve months, hobbles into a seat beside a pretty girl, lie: “Well, Miss Mary, you see I’m back again." She: “O! is that you—well, I didn't recognise you at first. How you’ve changed! Been to South Africa, haven’t you? Did you have a good time; did you enjoy yourself?”

Mr. Seddon, it appears from despatches recently published, has stood up for the retention of the Home Privy Council as a Court of Appeal from the colonial courts. Without wishing to depreciate the wisdom of our own judges, I think the general feeling is that the appeal to Caesar should be kept. It is only natural to suppose that, the highest bench of legal luminaries in the Empire should be, superior in legal knowledge to a bench of colonial judges. I shall not forget a case which occurred in Christchurch some time ago, and which bears on this matter. The Supreme Court had given a verdict for the defendant, which verdict was subsequently reversed by the judges of our Appeal Court, the Chief Justice, alone dissenting from the latter’s decision. The case went Home to the Privy Council, and the result was that that court upset the finding of our Court of Appeal;- and in the remarks of the learned gentlemen who reviewed the case it was plainly stated that the New Zealand Appeal judges, with the exception of the Chief Justice, had misunderstood the legal bearing of the position. Rough ou our Appeal Court!

The ago of chivalry is not extinct!In Gisborne—of all places in the world you may say—the spirit of true knighthood lingers at least in a few breasts. The other day two rivals for the affection of a certain lady met by the sad sea waves to determine in single combat to whom she should belong. Whether it was out of respect for the day—it was the Sabbath—or because they possessed no lethal weapons, or because they didn’t know how to use them, or because—well, any reason you like, but the fact remains that they fought with their fists. Unfortunately the details of the combat are wanting, although it, was witnessed by many friends and sympathisers. It does not appear to have been very sanguinary,for neither of the rivals was “knocked out.” Vanquished after a fashion, one of them was but likw a true knight, he boro no grudge, and shook hands with his foe. Whether the lady watched the battle from afar is not told, and whether she gave her heart to the victor or the vanquished is also a moot point.

“My house,” wrote the young lady teacher to the Hawke’s Bay Education Board, “is almost a lake this morning, so bad that I am going to town to spend a comfortable Sunday. The leakage is from the chimney in the kitchen to the centre of the room. Yesterday morn I got wet while cooking breakfast, and last night could not. face (he same again, so went out and begged tea.”