People Talked About

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIII, Issue XIV, 1 October 1904, Page 2

People Talked About

Lieutenant Mohr. Lieut. I’. H. Mohr, a musician of considerable attainment, who has been located at Invercargill for some years, iu charge of the Southland Battalion and other bands, arrived in Auckland last week to take up the conductorship of the No. 1 Auckland Infantry Battal ion Band. Aucklanders are, indeed, fortunate in securing the services of so capable a conductor and cornet soloist, (remarks “Trombone,” the well-known writer on band matters in the “Canter bury Times,” in the course of an article from which the following particulars are taken). If the members of the 'band which Mr Mohr has taken over will attend to what he says, and back him up, they should iu due course become first-eivass instrumentalists, and the band itself should develop into a sound,' powerful, and artistic musical combination. Mr Mohr came to this colony when four years of age, ami may, therefore, be fairly considered a Jew Zealander. When eleven years 1 he began to study the cornet, under his father's tuition. At this time he was attending the East Christchurch School, and many of his old school mates will remember the orchestra which was formed by the second master, and in which he was a leading fac tor. Whilst this band was still in its initial stage, Christchurch was visited ■by the then Governor, and all the school children were massed in Cathedral Square, and sang the National Anthem, being led by young Mohr on the cornet. This was actually his first appearance in public, and he still retains a pretty little water-colour sketch, which the second master of the school gave to him as a memento of the occasion. He shortly afterwards, and whilst still a schoolboy, joined the Excelsior Band (Toomer’s), as second cornet.. The band, a year or so later, fell through, and he joined the old Canterbury Yeomanry Cavalry Band, as re-piano cornet. This band was then under the conductorship of the late Mr B. Button. Mr Mohr afterwards saw service with the old City Guards’ Band, Sydenham Band (under Charles Bowles), and the Garrison Band (under Mr W. Dorn), and he stuck to this band up to Mr R. Trist Searrell's time. Mr Mohr played with the Christchurch Garrison at the great Wellington Exhibition contest of 1884-5, when the band secured third honours, scoring the maximum points (with Invercargill Garrison) in the sight test. The judge was Mr H. Mackintosh. The Wellington papers spoke of Mr Mohr at that time as “the youthful solo cornetist.” He took part in several other contests with the Christchurch Garrison Band, and at the contest of 1889. held in the old Christchurch Skating Rink. Mr Molu won the handsome comet presented b\ Messrs Boosey and Co. for th* l best cor netisit. latter he studied harmony and counterpoint, under the late Mr Ten dall. Muse. Bae. Oxon., organist of Christchurch Cathedral. In search ot practice and experience, he went to Sydney some years ago, where at first, and before lie secured any settled berth, he played solos at various public concerts. He had the privilege of play ing under Signor llazon. in Sullivan’s “Golden Legend.” etc., etc., and after wards joined the Montague-Turnei Opera Company. He saw service with various other companies, notably the Italian Opera Company (better known as Cnttiea’s), under Signor Mafl'azoli. The principals of this company after wards toured New Zealand as a concert company. Some time after his exper ience with this company, he came through New Zealand, having rejoined the Montague-Turner Opera Company,

and, when in Invercargill, he was engaged by the Invercargill City Guards' Band as their conductor and bandmaster. After completing his engagement with the Turner’s, Mr Mohr returned to Invercargill, and took up his duties with the band. He afterwards joined the City Guards (to which corps his band was attached), as lieutenant. He brought the Guards’ Band to such a high state of proficiency that, at the contest held in Timaru, in 1895. it gained second place to Wellington Garrison, tieing with them on the one selection, and being but two points behind on the other, whilst they beat all-comers on the march music. Later he transferred

to Timaru, to take charge of the Timaru Garrison Band. On the death of his wife, in 1898, Mr Mohr returned to Invercargill, resuming command of his old band (the City Guards). On the amalgamation of the Invercargill Garrison and City Guards’ bands, which ■then became the Southland Battalion Band, he was appointed bandmaster with the rank of lieutenant. In consequence of some friction, a few months ago, with some of the old Garrison members of the band. Lieutenant Mohr resigned, and on the formation of the Municipal Band (which was the outcome of his resignation from the Battalion) he took charge. Unfortunately

for the new organisation, Air Alohr accepted an engagement with the Auckland Ist Infantry Battalion Band, being actuated mainly in consideration of his children’s health, the climate of Southland being found rather too rigorous for them. We wish him the success he deserves in Auckland, where there is an extensive band music field. Mr Mohr on leaving Invercargill was accorded a hearty send-off by bandsmen and friends. He was the recipient of a handsome baton from the Municipal Band, and a dressing-ease from the staff of the “Southern Cross” news paper with which he had been connected for the past six years as accountant.

A Well-Known Maori Chief.

Kahui Karahere, who died recently at Rahotu, Taranaki, took a very prominent part with the Maoris during the war. He was the head of the Ngatihaupoto tribe, and fought with the rebels until the conclusion of the war, when General Chute marched round Mount Egmont. an event which practically concluded the hostilities as far as the Imperial soldiers were concerned. In 1866 Kahui swore allegiance to the Queen, and was appointed a native assessor. He was a great believer in Te Whiti, and when the “ploughing and fencing” warfare took place he helped in it. He was sent away as prisoner, and lost his assessorship. After his return from exile he never attended Parihaka. and lost faith in Te Whiti. and up to the time of his decease was a law-abiding native. He had been preparing for the great Christmas carnival by having constant practice of his tribe with hakas. poi dances, etc., and the excitement of these practises evidently hastened his end. The photo, shows himself and grand-children at Rahotu.

The Czar at Home.

My happiness was born at night. It has only flourished in darkness: I have lost my joy in life, I wander wearily In gloom. My soul gropes, sadly searching. In mental fog: it pines And prays and suffers, Rut finds no peace on earth. These lines close a sketch in “Cassell’s” of Tsar Nicholas 11. They are a translation of verses by the Tsar himself. “the translation of which conveys an utterly inadequate idea of the veritable ecstasy of sorrow contained in the original text.” The Tsar is described as a strange and inexplicable combine tion of the crassest contradictions and most divergent extremes. This is the writer’s account of the Imperial day: “The Tsar habitually rises at six a.m., and eats a characteristically English breakfast of ham and eggs, bread and butter, with marmalade prepared by an English maker, and tea. This predilection for English manners and customers is common to both Tsar and Tsarina, for both like English fare best, both prefer using English to their respective mother tongues, and both are agreed upon the necessity of educating their children according to English methods. Immediate ly after breakfast the Tsar begins to smoke some of the heaviest brands of Havana cigars, which he continues to puff almost continuously till bedtime, notwithstanding the fact that his doctors have warned him again and again.” By seven o’clock he is at his desk, dis charging his many duties as chief soldier, sailor, Pope, and judge all rolled into one. On an average 500 documents pass through his hands every weekday. “Lunch is a light meal, consisting of dainty hors d’oeuvres —soup, one course of meat and vegetables, and a sweet, dish, generally of the kind found on the tables of middle-class homes in England. Nothing but English is spoken, and as the domestics in attendance arc purposely Russians, unable to under stand a word of any other language, the conversation is free and unrestrained. After lunch the Tsar devotes a couple of hours to recreation of different kinds.” Dinner consists of five or six courses, plain and wholesome kinds of food being more in evidence than fancy dishes. A dinner party is generally limited to six or eight persons. After dinner, the Tsar generally enjoys the Russian gambling game called “Wint.’" and invariably plays for high stakes. Then the Tsarina regales the company with music, and sometimes the Tsar and Tsarina play duets on the piano together. On retiring, the Tsarina often reads nloud to the Tsar, sometimes from the “Times.” or the latest English novel or review. The Tsar makes a practice of retiring to rest by 11 o’clock. The writer describes how the action of the Tsar is limited by the action of the bureaucracy. “The Tsar is never a lead er like the German Emperor, but he is continually being led by some influential man or groifp of men.” The Rescript on Disarmament is thus ascribed to the temporary ascendency of M. Bloch. The precautions taken against assassination chill his heart, and explain the gloom cxpresßcd In the Unee recorded ebovt,

Mark Twain and the Jumping Frog.

It has been left to a lady to correct Mark Twain on the subject of jumping frogs! The great humorist reports that he received a letter recently from Miss K. Maegowan which ran:— “I have always enjoyed books very much, but lately I have been pained to note a discrepancy in the chapter on the jumping frog in ‘The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg.’ On page 376. beginning with line seventeen (redbound uniform edition of Harpers), it says: ‘To him and his fellow-goldmin-ers there were just two things in the story that were worth considering. One was the smartness of its hero. Jim Smiley, in taking the stranger in with a loaded frog; the other was Smiley’s deep knowledge of a frog’s nature — for he knew (as the narrator asserted and the listeners conceded) that a frog likes shot and is always ready to eat it.’ ‘‘Now. Smiley was the owner of Dan’l Webster, and he was taken in, not the stranger, for the stranger knew that frogs liked shot and filled Dan’l up. thus making Smilev lose his bet.” “This is very curious, if true,” comments Mark, “and true it probably is. for I am an expert at making mistakes.” “It is true,” says the editor of “Literature.” “and. being so, adds one more episode to the adventurous career of a story which was told by a. Greek author 2000 years since, was

told in the hearing of Mark Twain as an incident that happened in Calaveras County, California, in 1849 (and it probably did happen there), was duly recast and rehearsed in print by Mark Twain about forty years ago. and was translated into French and published in the ‘Revue des Deux Mondes’ in 1872. When the story began—where it will end—no man may say.”

Japanese Soft-Footedness.

“Some months ago,” says a retired officer of the British Navy, “I had an opportunity to see the Japanese put a big ship into dry-dock. We think, at home, that we can do that sort of work as well as anybody, and perhaps we can. but we make a good deal more fuss over it than the Japanese do. If we had been docking that ship, there would have been more or less noise, confusion and running to and fro: the air would have been filled with cries of Heave away there forward!’ ‘Slack off that stern-line!’ or hastily shouted orders of one sort or another; and with these commands would have been intermingled a lot of unnecessary talk and profanity; but it wasn’t so in Japan. That big ship moved into the dry-dqck with perfect smoothness and precision, and took exactly the position she was intended to take, without noise or excitement, and without any apparent worry on the part of the Japanese who had the work in charge. Now and then an officer would wave his hand, or make some preconcerted signal with a boatswain’s whistle, but I didn’t hear a

single vocal order given, from first to last. It was as pretty a job as I have ever seen. But the Japanese make jolly little row about anything. During the Chino-Japanese war I saw them land troops in small boats on the coast of Korea, and they did it in the same quiet, systematic way, and in half the time that it would have taken us. Before our Tommies would have got out of the boats the Japs were all ashore, had lined up in company formation, and were marching swiftly back into the interior, without any talk, without any shouts of command, and without the least confusion or disorder. The object of Rus sian military training is. apparently, to make a striking and brilliant show of military power; while the object of the Japanese seems to be to create a fighting machine and accomplish results by the most direct and effective methods, and with as little show and parade as possible. I doubt very much whether in Russia a whole army corps was ever entrained or embarked, secretly and noiselessly, in the latter half of a single night; but in Japan this has been done again and again. Less than a month ago a large fleet of transports steamed quietly into a Japanese harbour after midnight, took on board fifteen or twenty thousand soldiers who had also entered the eity after midnight, and got away before daybreak with so little commotion that even the foreign newspaper correspondents who were there knew nothing about it until the next day. The Japanese, as a rule, cm bark troops at night, when they are least likely to be observed, and in order to do this quickly and noiselessly on a large scale they must have perfect discipline and a wonderful organisation.”