Minor Matters.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXVII, Issue VI, 10 August 1901, Page 250

Minor Matters.

Blanc. Slang, which is perfectly familiar in one country, is often Greek in another. Last week a gentleman just landed from the ’Frisco mail boat was in a certain club, and was introduced to an influential Auckland citizen by a mutual friend, who was then called away. After a moment or two, after a rather long pause in the conversation, the American remarked: “Wouldn’t it do you good to wash your neck?” “What’s the matter with my neck?” exclaimed the Aucklander, flushing a fiery red, “and what’s the matter with you that you ask such a question? I’d have you know, sir, I consider it an impertinence—an impertinence, sir!” “Gee!” exclaimed the surprised Yankee. “I did not mean to offend you. I had no idea you were one of those teetotal temperance cranks!” “I’m no temperance crank, either,” retorted the outraged colonial, now doubly offended and surprised also. “Ain’t you?” queried the other. “Then why did you get so mad when I asked you to take a drink?” “Asked me to take a drink?” almost shrieked the Aucklander. “You asked me? When?” “Surely I did,” said the man from ’Frisco. “Asked you to wash your neck, you know. On the inside, you understand. With good liquor, don’t you see? Not on the outside, of course. My remark was not intended to hint that an application of water to your skin was needed. An invitation to wash the neck is only our way of asking a man to irrigate the dust of travel out of his throat. Will you join me, now?” “Don’t care if I do,” said the mollified citizen of the northern metropolis. ♦ * A Glimpse at K’pling. A glimpse of Rudyard Kipling, as seen during a few bustling moments at Edenburg, a wayside station, in Orange River Colony, is given by Mortimer Mempes, in “Personalities”: “A short, sturdy, spectacled young man, clad in the inevitable khaki, and with a great flourish and bustle, jumped out of the railway carriage, and began hauling away at the luggage, which he had recklessly strewn upon the platform. A whisper went round the assembled crowd, ‘lt’s Kipling,’ and a number of willing hands seized hold of the flying baggage. Mr. Kipling himself flew after soda-water bottles and various eatables, collected an armful, and rushed down to a carriage where were sick and disabled Tommies, all hot and weary. Mr. Kipling was busy, with that wonderful sympathy of his, attending to his beloved Tommies, and all this without affectation or desire for notice, bent only on meeting their immediate wants. I realised then how it was he had so thoroughly got into their life, and seized hold of their hearts, lie had a startling- face, rather pale features, black eyebrows, tremendously developed, a black moustache, three blobs in vivid contrast to the pallid face, a face that attracted by its power, its strength, and determination; keen, vivid, original. He lived much in the hospital. He would go into a ward,, throw himself on a sick man’s bed; and instantly he would be friends with that man. learning his history, getting at his life, sympathising with his troubles, laughing and joking, perhaps writing a letter for the wounded man.” * + <fr Not Thieving, but Thoughtless. The thin line that divides a thoughtlass from a criminal action received full exemplification in the Dunedin Police Court last week (relates the local paper). A highly respectable lady, while waiting to be served nt a boot and shoe emporium, picked up a pair of shoes to examine them, and took them outside to show to her husband. He had, however, gone up the street, and she foolishly followed him.

shoes and all. A shop employee noting' the suspicious action, gave in. formation to a passing constable, who promptly arrested the lady on a charge of theft. Satisfactory explanations were forthcoming, but had the lady been a stranger in the city, and unable to produce witnesses as to her character, her position, to say the least, would have been an embarrassing one. 4- 4 1 4The Napier Giris and the Gentleman In Ehakl. Two young Napier ladies are now regretting their impetuosity. Being very anxious to be the first to welcome one of the returning- troopers, who was coming home by train the other week, they journeyed to a country station in order to board the train and thus gain their purpose. On the arrival of the train, the young damsels, seeing their “gentleman in khaki,” as they thought, standing up in a crowded carriage, made a magnificent charge, threw their arms round his neck, and, alternately kissing and hugging, nearly suffocated the poor fellow. Imagine their embarrassment and disgust, however, when their paroxyism of joy had subsided, on finding that they had made an awful blunder, and, instead of their “conquering hero,” they had been embracing a stolid Maori, who was on his way to attend a parade. The ripple of laughter that pervaded the atmosphere was anything but pleasant for the participants of the drama. 4» 4> * Justice a la Maori. A party of the Ngaeterangi, of Tauranga, killed two birds with one stone last week in a rather novel way. Having journeyed to Maketu to show their respect to the memory of the deceased chief, Te Pokiha, they returned by way of another settlement where they called in and held a firstclass taua. It appears that a Motiti damsel, related to the Ngaeterangi, had been permitted to visit the mainland and while staying at the settlement mentioned above, decided to enter the bonds of matrimony with a young chief, without first seeking the consent of her relatives. This, according to native custom, was a very grave- offence, and consequently the Ngaeterangi party thought they might as well break their journey home from Maketu and combine business with pleasure by inquiring into and adjusting the matter. They accordingly called in and made their demands for compensation, receiving horses, cattle, ploughs, greenstones, clothing, etc. After adjusting this little matter to their satisfaction, they had a good dinner and eventually started for home laden with their commandeered presents, and in the best of humours with themselves and everybody else.

When the Ophir la at Sea. Of course, everybody knows that oh board the Royal yacht the game of the departing Royalties (that is the abominable word, but it has been made necessary) is bridge, and nothing but bridge. And as there is no drill on the Ophir bridge takes its place, with the result that almost all the officers could pass the stiffest imaginable examination in that game. Next to bridge comes, so I am assured (says a Sydney scribe), private theatricals, and I forget how many plays have been rehearsed for future representation. It is quite a mistake to suppose that the Duke and Duchess pass most of the day studying the Almanach de Gotha and their own pedigrees, for both Their Royal Highnesses appear to be devoid of any devouring zeal for genealogy—even their own. When aboard their little 6000-tonner they seem to be possessed by about as simple, unconventional tastes as the merest mortals, and are as easily pleased as if they had not been born in the Imperial purple and tutored so os to be in touch with the greatest democratic monarchy the world has ever known. For the rest, this game of bridge was not invented by Sir Cyprian of that ilk, and in my opinion it is far neath whist or solo whist, being indeed but a sorry sort of dummy whist, without any relish of the rigour of that great game, or as Fluellen would have said, of its “disciplines of war.” ♦ * * A Maori’s Find of Amtergxls. A lucky discovery of ambergris was (says the Kaikoura “Star”) made lately by Mr Heperi Dan-eta, of Kaikoura. He had gone to Otaki on account of the death of his mother, and during the stay there, while on the beach one day, casually picked up a piece of substance, weighing 541 b, of the nature of which he was entirely unaware. Curiosity, however, prompted him to obtain authoritative opinion regarding it, and on being examined and tested by a Chatham Islander, iv was pronounced to be ambergris. On the strength of this information the fortunate possessor took the ambergris with him to Wellington, and arranged with the New Zealand Loan and Mercantile Agency Company to have it forwarded to England. It is reported that Mr Paneta refused an offer of £4OO for his find, preferring to try the Home market, and that he has 'been advanced £ 100 by the shipping agents. <3? She “ Sat Doon.” A Scotch servant girl went home a few evenings ago with her head wrapped up in a shawl. Her young mistress asked her what ailed her, and was told that she was suffering from a bad attack of toothache, brought on by sitting in the park. “But you ought not to sit in such a cold, chilly night as this,” said the mistress. “You should walk at a smart pace.” The girl looked at her a minute, as though pitying her ignorance, and then answered:

“You canna coort right walking; you must sit doom”

A Dot’s Evidence la a PolloaCourt. A curious incident occurred at the last sitting of the county magistrates at Nottingham. A hawker had been discovered in search of game, and had got away from the policeman. The latter, however, secured his dog, and detained it. The policeman subsequently identified the hawker, and found out his place of abode. But he required corroboration of his evidence of identity, as the hawker protested he was not the person who had been chased. The police officer was puzzled at first, but finally hit upon a happy idea, he would keep the dog he had captured, and take it to the court as a witness. He did this, and as soon as the hawker was put into the dock, the dog struggled violently to escape from the police, and when it did tried •its best to reach the man in the dock. “The dog knows you,” said the presiding magistrate with a smile. The hawker was obliged to confess that was so, and he was fined.—“ Daily News.” ♦ * ♦ Amusing Incident at Timaru. An incident from which the onlookers derived more amusement than the actors in it occurred on the Timaru breakwater last week. A small party, including His Worship the Mayor, the chairman and several members of the Harbour Board, and a Christchurch journalist, went along to inspect the damage done to the mole by the recent heavy seas. They proceeded cautiously at first, but each becoming wrapped up in. the absorbing occupation of inspection and of delivering his pet opinions on harbour matters generally, the waves were forgotten. Turning round, one of the number noticed a big wave rising, and in spite of a hurried and somewhat undignified scramble back, the party found themselves in the embrace of several feet of foamcrested water. Their appearance after their involuntary bath may be better imagined than described, and as the day was bitterly cold the submerged big wigs were unable to enter into the joke with any enthusiasm. The inspection has been postponed sine die. ♦ ♦ * Comforts That Passed in the N»xht, If our New Zealand boys do not receive all the letters and comforts sent them by relatives and friends it is not through remissness on the part of the postal officials. Trooper J. A. Aitken, of the First Contingent, who returned to Invercargill last December, has just had forwarded to him a tin of biscuits sent by a Wellington young lady 18 months ago, when he was out on the veldt. Judging from the dented condition of the tin (says a Southland contemporary) it has travelled in rough places, but the contents are still intact. It has probably been carried over a considerable part of South Africa, but. failing to reach the evermoving troops, has at last come to its rightful owner, though, considering the contents, the authorities might very well have passed them on to some still in the field, in which case the purpose intended by the sender would have been accomplished. ♦ <fr ♦ His Best Trousers, Too. A fire broke out in the upstairs room of a neighbour’s house, and seeing it the next-door man rushed up without ceremony, tore down the curtains which were on fire, and snatching a pair of trousers hanging behind the door, succeeded in beating out the fire in the carpet and elsewhere. Just as he finished the lady of the house came rushing upstairs, exclaiming, “My child! My precious child!” and. Io! there was an infant asleep on the bed, the life of which had undoubtedly been saved by the prompt action. of the neighbour and the cooperation of the trousers. He was a wise man and did not look for gratitude, but he was surprised when the same evening the father of the child and the owner of the trousers looked in to remonstrate. “I suppose you acted for the best and didn’t notice the damage you were doing, but those were my new Sunday trousers you used, and they are ruined.” “But, man alive, I saved your house and saved your child’s life.” “Oh. of course, Im grateful and all that sort of thing, v'AJ think y Oll might have saved the Child with something else than my

new Sunday trousers. I’ve only had them on onee and now they’re done for.” And he went away exceedingly sorrowful because the neighbour did not offer to bear the expense of a new pair of trousers as compensation for the damage he had done. + ♦ * Made H mselt at Home oa tho Footpath. All sorts of household goods and chattels were piled upon the footpath and back of the curbing in front of a Princes-street house the other morning preparatory to moving. An individual who looked much the worse from overindulgence in late hours and strong drink came unsteadily down the road. He was passing the array of furniture when he happened to glance into the mirror of a big chiffonnier that stood on the sidewalk. He surveyed his soiled countenance for awhile with every expression of deep disapproval. Then he looked unsteadily around until his eyes rested on a washbowl piled on top of a barrel. He calmly ambled over- and picked up the washbowl and then walked up to a tap that stood in the centre of the little lawn in front of the house. He turned the tap, filled the bowl with water, and, setting it down on a chair, proceeded to take off his coat and necktie and collar. The proprietor of the household goods stood on the steps, watching the proceedings in silent amazement. Four or five passersby stopped to see what was hapirening’, but their gaze did not disconcert the inebriated individual in the slightest. He washed his face and neck and wet his hair. He looked around, as though in search of a towel. There was none in sight, but a tablecloth spread over a basketful of dishes answered the purpose just as well. Then the man walked back to the mirror and put on his collar’ and carefully adjusted his necktie, and combed his hair with a blacking brush that lay on the chiffonnier. Then he put on his coat and, with a parting look in the mirror, ambled away. “Well,” said the amazed owner of the furniture, “did you ever see such nerve in your life? But I’m in luck he didn’t see the gas range. He would have hunted up the groceries and cooked himself a meal.” 4? 4? 4> Hard Luck! A fishing excursion, when the fish won’t bite, is depressing, but it is better than shooting when the-e are no birds. A party from the Thames (Auckland) went out for the last day of the season last week, and, according to the local paper, had a bad time. “Well, what sport did you have?” was the query addressed to a member when they returned. “Sport?” was the indignant response; “don’t talk to me of sport. We were soaking through long before we reached the Piako Swamp. We tramped through water pond to pond, we scoured the district from end to end and never saw a feather. One of the members threw the whisky overboard in mistake for an empty bottle, the tobacco was wet and we couldn’t have a smoke, I lost a valuable knife, one of the others was attacked with influenza, another has a bad attack of sciatica—sport; don’t talk to me of sport again.” And the language fell so suphurous that the questioner fled. 4> + 4? Fined for Kindness. The “Sheffield Daily Telegraph” reports that at Gainsborough, a few days ago, William Marriott was charger! with having in his possession n newly caught thrush, in contravention of the Wild Birds’ Protection Act. Marriott stated that he found some boys tossing the young bird, which was too young to feed itself, into the air, and thinking they would kill it, he took it home, but it died after a few days. The ehairman (Mr Embleton Fox) commenting upon the anomaly of the law in this connection, said: "We have to admonish you—according to the Act — that you did a wrong thing in taking this poor thrush. You did it a kindness, for it would probably have died. Still, the law says you must not do it, and you must pay a fine of 2/6 and costa.”

In a For. As oue of the intercolonial steamers was coming up the bay a thick fog came out to meet it. The captain thereupon thought It prudent to sound the fog-horn. The first blast had hardly died away, says a contemporary, when a reply came, so close at hand as to give the captain something of a shock. The engines were at once stopped, and the fog-horn again sounded. Once more the startling reply was borne on the fogladen air, and it seemed almost in the captain’s ear. Visions of phantom ships, phantom foghorns, and flying Dutchmen crowded on the skipper’s imagination. Calling the mate, he said: ‘‘This ship is haunted, I do believe; listen to this,” and the foghorn spoke a third time through the pea-soupy atmosphere, with the usual result. “Did you hear that?” queried the skipper. “I did,” said the mate. “That’s the old cow for'ard; thinks you’re one of her own kind calling her, and she’s answering - .” 4> A Terrible Moment, They are a happy married couple now - , with years of felicity behind, and, let us hope, many still before them, but they cannot look back on their wedding experience without a shudder. The parson had two other marriages to celebrate the same day, and he had all the papers filled up in advance, waiting only the signatures of the victims. Theirs was the first on the list. Tn his fussy way he said to the bridegroom, “Sign here, please. Thank you; that’s right. Now here. That will do. Now - , you, madam. Sign here, please, and here. Thank you. That will do nicely.” He handed over the marriage lines, and then the happy bride discovered to her horror that the parson had, according to the papirs, mariied her to the wrong man. Fortunately it was all put right, but the incident was painful, and she winces now - when she thinks what might have been. * + ♦ Doesn't Bny Him Cfvara NewMrs Nelton is not going to buy anymore cigars for her husband. She almost believes now that all the jokes in the comic papers anent the kind of cigars wives buy for their husbands are true. She has insisted ever since Christmas, when she bought the first box of cigars for Mr Nelton, of purchasing all his tobacco for him. Mr Nelton thought it would be too bad to tell his wife just how bad the cigars were, since her only object In buying them was to contribute to his pleasure, so he smiled as sweetly as he could and smoked the cigars like a little hero. But in an unguarded moment the other night the truth came out. Mrs Nelton awoke some time after midnight with a start. “John, John,” she gasped, “there's a burglar in the house.” “O, I think not,” said her husband, sleepily. “Yes, there is,” gasped Mrs Nelton, “I know it. He is in the dining-room. I heard him lighting one of your cigars?” “One of those ‘Pride of the Tenement’ that you gave me?” “Yes, that was the last box I bought.” “All right,” said John, turning on his side and shutting his eyes again. “Leave him alone. We‘ll find his dead body on the floor to-morrow - mornings” Mrs Nelton says that John can just buy his own old cigars now - . •fr * She Liked the Hospital. Not long ago at a provincial hospital an old woman, who was being discharged completely cured, was having a last interview - with the house physician. “Well,” he said, “you will have to speak well of the hospital now, won’t you?” And the old woman replied, “Ay, that T will, doctor. But, sure, 1 never spoke ill of it. My ’usband died here.”