After Dinner Gossip and Echoes of the Week.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXX, Issue XX, 16 May 1903, Page 1351

After Dinner Gossip and Echoes of the Week.

The “I’ll Tell Ma" Policy. AU of us, mea and women alike, who can recall our school days, can doubtless remember several specimens of a disagreeable type of children who whenever they lost a game, or thought that someone else had had ra*ther the better of them, would burst into a bellow of “Oh, I’U tell ma!” It did not matter that the rules of the game had been observed, or that extra smartness had received its due reward. These youngsters could not take a beating gracefully, but must ever make their appeal to the autocratic authority, as they considered, of “Ma.” The fives of these small-minded small folk were not made pleasant for them. Amongst lads and lasses there is a wholesome appreciation of fair play, a strong pride in settling their own affairs at their own tribunals (which are none so unjust as a rule), and they have a hearty and commendable contempt for the “i’ll tell ma” weaklings. Few parents are so foolish nowadays as to encourage tale-bearing either from the school or in the family, and the enormity of the sin of “sneaking,” as we used ,to calll it, is fully impressed on the juvenile mind. This being so, it is rather unpleasant to note a decided tendency to the “I’ll tell ma” policy amongst we “grown ups,” who are but children of a larger growth. An award of the Arbitration Court goes against a certain set of men. “Oh, I’ll tell my ma,” say the malcontents. “I would never have played if I had not thought I would win. I’ll tell ma, and she’ll soon stop your little game,” etc. And ma seems willing, too. Or, again, in Auckland, or in some districts thereof, people made certain conditions by which they were to have electric trams at certain prices. Those prices they fixed, or could have fixed, had they looked after themselves, and “played up and played the game,” as the saying has it. But not until they find themselves a little bit beaten by an astuter man than themselves do they squeak and shriek out over an extra half-penny, and clamour to “Ma” (in the form of Parliament) to upset a con tract just because they have got the worst of a deal in which both parties were trying to get the better of the other. Just as appeals to “Ma” bring youngsters into contempt with healthyminded lads and lasses, so these appeals for special legislation over such matters as those quoted bring us into disrepute with older countries. How can you expect English companies to invest money out here if immediately they begin to get a return the public want to back out of their bargain, and by Act of Parliament make another arrangement more advantageous to themselves? 4- 4 1 4> What’s to Become of the Child? Last week a creature by the name of Newsome was convicted of brutal cruelty to a child, and sentenced to three weeks’ imprisonment, there being a previous conviction for unmercifully thrashing the same unfortunate atom of humanity on another occasion, when he received a sentence of 14 days. Now, what in the name of all that is horrible and unthinkable, is to be the fate of that wretched child when this bully eomes out of gaol, wild, most probably, for vengeance on the body of the child ho has twice been convicted of ill-treating in a manner shocking to think about? Is the poor trembling mite, yet barely recovered from previous ill-usage, to be handed over to the parental control, for the man to do what he wills with, so long as the knowledge of the same is hidden, or the extent of the punishment does not absolutely bring the coward within the grip of the law? Surely all must realise what a hell on earth such • father can create for a child who has aroused his most evil passions, what agonies of mind and body he can produce, and yet if he possess cunning

baffle the poliee. Cruelty is hard to prove, it must be of unspeakable severity before the law can take action, and it is certainly within the power of anyone sufficiently brutal and callous to reduce any child to a condition of practical insanity by a system of bullying of which the law could take no notice. It is infamous that such scoundrels as misuse children should escape with such a sentence as three weeks. Three years, and thrice three years, would not be too much in any sueh case, and the child should certainly be permanently removed from the control of beings proved to lack every feeling of responsibility, human nature, or pity. Not until sueh sentences are imposed, and the “cat” is freely used, shall we be freed of the dreadful crime of cruelty to children. 4- 4- 4Undesirable Arrivals. What with coiners, forgers, burglars, garroters, and pirates abroad during the past few days or so, we seem to be collecting quite a variety of the criminal classes from drought-stricken Australia. It -would seem as if a regular stream were setting in, and if the thing goes on we shall seriously have to consider ways and means of self-protection. Prevention is better than cure, and the best means of dealing with Mr Joe Sykes and Co. is to starve them out. Prevention is always better than cure, and if we like to make it so we can refuse to find a living for the light-fingered brigade, with confused ideas concerning meum and tuum. The average criminal is, contrary to the accepted theory, not a particularly clever person. It is only that we, his victims, are so absurdly careless and stupid. It is easy to circumvent him, as a rule. For example, the average person whose house has been burgled of late seems to leave an amount of cash in the house, wdiich must be utterly unnecessary, and which would be very much better in the bank. Some people seem to have an absolute mania for carrying on their persons foiir er five times the amount of cash needed for daily expenditure. For all intents and purposes change for a sovereign is as much as even a wealthy man need have in his pocket or private house at one time, for if he want more it is safer and better in every way for him to draw a cheque. Of course it is impossible in many cases to bank money received and required after business hours, but if only good safes were used, and if greater precautions were observed, the results of burglaries on moneys of this description would not offer remunerative attraction to the profession. 4? 4- 4Music and Humbug-. There has always been a good deal of difference of opinion as to which is the most musical city of the colony, each of the chief centres peremptorily arrogating to itself the position and ridiculing the claims of others as the most preposterous proposition in the world. As a matter of fact, things are about equal, for I don’t think either Auckland, Wellington, Christchurch or Dunedin have the smallest claim to be considered what is usually termed musical. There is some vagueness in the term, but I take it a “musical” community la one which appreciates the highest class of music, which has also a large proportion of persons who ean assist in proclaiming the same, and which has a still larger number of enthusiasts who are willing to pay handsomely for the pleasure of enjoying the concerts arranged for their benefit. Every decade or so a sudden spasm will seize one or other of our main cities, and it will become the centre of wild musical (more or less) activity. Let us take some instances. Some seven years since Auckland possessed two strong orchestral societies, a Choral Society, an Opera Club, a Licdertafel, and I do not remember how many

others. The Choral Society still remains, but, alas! it is not the Choral of old, and as for the orchestral societies and the Opera Club both are as if they had never existed. In Wellington, where enthusiasm in musical matters once reigned, there is positive danger of the one society left giving up the ghost after a long and rather hopeless struggle, and it’s about the same, only to a less degree, down South. The true reason would seem to be that the persons who can produce music—more especially the instrumentalists —are tired of doing it—in public—for nothing, and the alleged love of music amongst the masses is of a character which draws the line at (literally) paying the piper. We may love music, but we love money more, and in view of this fact it is rather humbug for any of our cities to dub themselves musical. But then, it seems to me, the average person is chock full of humbug in regard to music. Not one person in a hundred has any real appreciation of what is usually termed good music. They pretend they have, of course, and go through quite an incredible amount of self-sacrifice, suffering and boredom to convince themselves and others of the fact, but in their heart of hearts these good people know they are humbugs. There is, too. a lot of humbug in pretending to decide what is good music and what is “bad,” and in this a number of musicians share, it seems to me. To say, as many of them practically do, that only pieces which need a lifetime of study to appreciate or understand are “good,” and that anything else is trash, is a form of humbug very prevalent in musical circles. When the Grand Opera Company was here I sat frequently next a very famous Melbourne musician. One evening there was a tremendous recall for the soldiers’ chorus in “Faust.” “There,” said the great man, disgustedly, “that’s your public all over. They applaud the trashiest thing in the opera to the echo.” With all due deference to a musician of note, I would say “Humbug!” Anything which can, so to say, “lift” a great audience and carry it outside itself cannot be trash, though one quite realises that such things as the soldiers’ chorus are not the highest form of music.

Mora About Art Knoour*«em»nt. It is evident that the question <4 municipal encouragement of art concerns more folk than I gave credit to in my perhaps slightly egotistical article last week. Quite a little budget of letters on tho subject has reached me, all warmly approving the suggested expenditure of Government funds on art purchases and art education. One gentleman in a long and thoughtful letter suggests that generous citizens might be encouraged to purchase pictures for presentation to their native cities if there was available a pound for pound subsidy. This. I think, would hardly work satisfactorily. A well meaning citizen might purchase a picture for presentation which would not be of the standard required for a permanent collection of pictures, for in forming public collections it is at least as important to rigorously exclude unsuitable works as to secure fine ones. The Auckland Gallery, small as is its eellection, has half a dozen or more canvases which have no claim to be hung in any permanent collection, and whose presence in the company of good pictures is distinctly ludicrous. No, tho Government purchase of pictures would be a matter of the utmost delicacy ami importance and would have to be in the hands of a very carefully selected board or acknowledged expert. Another idea from the same source seems to me really valuable, and that is that the Education Department should buy and frame simply and cheaply the admirable reproductions in colour of the nation's pictures. In default of the educative advantages of the originals these must have a very great use in teaching the young what is beautiful and giving them an idea of what is admirable in art. Another correspondent says some effort should be made to secure one of the paintings of Maori subjects exhibited in Auckland. With this I cordially agree, and hope a move will be made in this direction. It is unfortunate that the artist has chosen not to put a public price on his pictures, for a natural (if mistaken) notion must prevail that any attempt to secure a particular work would probably put up the price in the mind of the artist.