HERE AND THERE.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIV, Issue 16, 22 April 1905, Page 14

HERE AND THERE.

Analysed. Tn an absolute monarchy the people do what they are told to do; in a republic they think what they are told to think. The advantage of a republic is that the people, there, being‘left to do what they like, imagine they are free.

Good Talkers. Actions speak louder than words, but they do not unduly inflict their conversation on those who do not want to listen to it.

In Burnt-Cork Land. “What,” asked Mr. Gilfithers, the eminent end-man; “What is the difference between a phrenologist and a man who runs into a door in the dark?” “I give it up,’’ said Mr. Golsizzle, the other eminent end-man; for they were cutting the show short that evening in order to catch an early train to the next one-night stand. “One knows the bumps and the other bumps the nose,” explained Mr. Gilfithers. Before the audience could reason it out Mr. Alphonse Rambolio, the celebrated counter-tenor, was half way through his touching ballad, “I never cut no ice with her until I learned to skate.”

Long Distance Telegraphy. An interesting achievement in telegraphy recently accomplished is the establishment of" direct communication between Liverpool and Teheran, a distance of some 4000 miles. This has been achieved by the use of the automatic Wheatstone system whereby the telegrams are transmitted over the entire distance at a single operation. This route, which was originally established in 1860, has experienced in recent years many improvements, and its capacity was much increased tvhen automatic working by the Wheatstone system was first adopted, though this method then involved several retransmissions. Subsequent improvements made possible the elimination of the. intermediate stations, and after direct communication had been established to London, the line was extended to Liverpool anil Manchester. As at present arranged it is said to be the longest line in the world operated by the automatic system and the improvements and increased business have led to marked reductions in the tariff for messages.

Literary Names. A recent catalogue of autograph letters has surprised a good many people by revealing the fact that Charles Dickens’ full name was Charles John Huffam Dickens, remarks “Answers.'’ Some rather curious facts are noticeable about the names of popular novelists. To commence with, no one ever thinks of referring to a well-known writer as “Mr.” So-and-So. Again, authors are hardly ever now spoken of by their surnames alone. If you were, told a book was by Doyle, you would probably have to think for a minute or so till you realised that Conan Doyle was meant. Yet Thackeray is always ’Diackrra. never William Makepeace Thackeray. In whatever fashion an author chooses to give his name to the public, that fashion the. public accepts, however long and clumsy it may be. Tims Stevenson is always Robert" Louis Stevenson; no one ever thinks of saying R. L. Stevenson. And when the author of “The Four Feathers” is spoken of, his full A. E. W. Mason is always brought out. The inaVu-ity of authors write under one Christian name and their-surname; few favour one initial only. On the other hand, few actors are known to the public By their initials, nearly always by their Christian names.

The Noes Had It. A well-known English surgeon was imparting some clinical instructions to half a dozen students, according to “The Medical Age.” Pausing at the bedside of a doubtful ease lie said: “Now, gentlemen, do you think this is or is not a case for operation?” One by one each student made his diagnois, and all of them answered in the negative. "Well, gentlemen, you are all wrong,” said the wielder of the scalpel, “and I shall operate to-morrow.” “No, you won’t,” said the patient, as he rose in his bed; “six to one is a good majority, gimme my clothes.”

Did Yon Ever ? A man who likes to delve into the English language and point out its incongruities recently came out of his latest trance, and asked a friend these questions:— Tell me: Did you ever see a stone step? Or a peanut stand? Or a sausage roll? Or an apple turn over? Or hair die? Ofc a day pass by ? Or a horse fly? Or a night fall? Or a ship spar? Or sugar bowl? Or a vine run? Or a bed spring? t Or a rail fence? snap ? Or a bottle fly? Or a man catch, his breath? Or hear a bed tick? Or see a clock run? Or see ink stand ? , Or a man pull up a river?

Progressive Whist. “The Bystander” furnishes the following “notes” on the above game, which is fashionable in some quarters just at present:— Progressive whist is played with a pack of 52 cards by a pack of stupids. In progressive whist yon do not gamble at the tables, you only amble between them. If you make a slam, you may justifiably gambol. If you feel hot, tell a lady player she ought to take lessons before her next party; a coolness will at once ensue. If, on the other hand, you feel cold, tender the same advice to a gentleman player; he will immediately reply with •warmth. Do not be too proud to take a trick second-hand. If your opponent has a good suit, ask him for the address of his tailor. A nod’s as good as a wink to a bad partner. The cards should be well shuffled; but you need not shuffle your feet. Save up your prize till you give a progressive whist party yourself. It might come in useful. If you do, take care not to invite anyone who might recognise it.

Pardonable Ignorance. An interesting dialogue between S woman and a railway conductor— in which the woman got the best of it: “I shall have’to ask you for a ticket for that boy, ma’am.” i “1 guess not.” I “He’s too old to travel free. He occupies a whole seat, and the ear’s crowded. There arc people standing.” “I can’t help that.” “I haven’t time to argue the matter, ma’am. You’ll have to pay for that boy.” j “I’ve never paid for him yet.” “You’ve got to begin doing it some time.” , “Not this trip, anyway.” “■You’ll pay for that boy, ma’am, or I’ll stop the train and put him off.” “All right. Put him off if you think' that’s the way to get anything out of me.” “You ought to know what the rules of this road are, ma'am. How old is that boy ?” “I don’t know. I never saw him before.”

Once Bit, Etc. ’’ The man who fights and runs away May live to fight another day; 4 Hut if lie's like the most of chaps lie won't butt-in to future scraps

Kava Drinking. In a recent issue of the “Smithsonian: Miscellaneous Collections” Mr. Walter, Hough, in an interesting paper, deals with the custom of kava drinking among the Pacific Islanders. The plant used is a kind o'f pepper belonging to the? family which yields the pepper of commerce. In some cases the root is chewed", and the chewed mass is ejected into a' bowl containing water. Th’e liquid is strained and drunk at once. In other! places a tin grater is employed. The fresli root when chewed at first tastes sweet* aromatic, then bitter acid, and pungent! It provokes an abundant flow of saliva. It contains about 50 per cento of starch, a little pale yellow essential oil, and a small amount of resin, and ai substance known as kavahin. The latter,' amounting to one per cent., is proljablyj the source of the toxie qualities of th® liquor. The resin and kavahin are insoluble in water, but soluble in saliva! and in gastric juice. The flavour of the liquid is at first like soapsuds, but' afterwards a pleasant, faintly bitten flavour is experienced. The great kava! bowls, carved from a solid block of wood, for the natives know nothing of joinery, are fine pieces of work. Thef drinking cups of cocoanut shell are also! finely finished and highly prized. As thq liquid is drunk fresh there can be no fermentation in the popular sense of the word, though chewing the root would in the strict sense by a process of fermentation change the starch to sugar. In other words, the drink is not alcoholic.The kava prepared by chewing is said tq be more palatable than that made by; grating. There is no other drink prepared by man that exactly compares with kava. In Brazil a drink, ehiea. is pre- 1 pared by chewing, but the liquid is allowed to ferment in earthen jars. Maiza is similarly treated in other parts of South America, hut both these drinks are, of course, alcoholic. Alcoholic drinks are almost universally found. Even our, Australian natives are said to have prepared them in some places. Kava is ati first stimulating, but the effect of excess resembles that of opium, producing sr-drowsy drunkenness lasting for a! couple of hours. The inebriate, says Mr. Hough, is usually peaceful, but sometimes is irritated by noises. The results of excess are skin disease, emaciation,

•nd general decrepitude. The peculiar whiteness of tI(C skin caused by kavadrinking is said to be sought after on some islands as a sign that its possessor is wealthy enough to devote his time to its acquirement.

High Financial Alphabet. For the easy and speedy teaching of letters to the offsprings of the mushroom rich. A Is for Argent, the French name for cash; B is for Broker, who never acts rash; C Is for Cash, a thing we must get; D is for Diamond, most coveted yet: w is for Eagle, a “Yank” piece of change; Fis for Finance,in which deals we arrange: G is for Gold, which above all things we prize; II is for Honour, which all must despise: I is for Ingots, or more otteu gold bricks; J is for Judge, aud he's up to all tricks; K is for Kiting, which we hope will not cease; T. is for Lamb, whom you always must fleece; II Is for Money, our king and our god; N Is for Necklace, though often a fraud; O Is for Opal, a gem of fair grade: I’ is for Panic, where formes are made; Q is for Quack, who writes on fluence; K is Receiver, who ends up the dance; S is for Stocks,which are often mere paper: T is for Trusts, which make governments caper; U is the Union, which will soon be our own; V is for Voters, to be left strictly alone; IV is for Wall Street, where all Yankee stocks grow; X Is a Tenner, at luncheon to blow: Y Is for Yacht, where we throw aside cares; Z is the Zest shown in money affairs.

A Born Zoologist. A prominent educator tells of -some amusing replies made by the pupils in a class in zoology of a school under his direction. One day the instructor asked a backward pupil to “name four animals having their habitat in the tropics.” The boy instantly responded: ‘Two lions and two tigers.”

f — A Humorous Humorist. It is told of a well-known humorous writer that in the early days of his career he sent some pieces to a certain comic paper, only to have them returned almost immediately. He sent them out a second time, and again they came back. Then the author sat down and wrote the following note to the editor, again sending his contribution; “Dear Sir, —During your absence your office-boy has been returning masterpieces, several of which I enclose. Trusting tliat you will remit at your earliest «eiivenience. —-I am, etc.. It is said that the editor remitted.

Literal Willie. Little Willie’s father found bis youthful son holding up one of his rabbits by the ears and saying to him: “How much is seven times seven, now ?” “Bah,” the father heard the boy say, “I knew you couldn’t. Here’s another one: Six times six is how much?” “Why, Willie, what in the. world are you doing with your rabbit ?” asked the father. Willie threw the rabbit down with disgust. “I knew our teacher was lying to us,” was all he said. “Why, how?” asked his father. “Why, she told us this morning that rabbits were the greatest multipliers in the world.” A Punch Diary.

Mr. Walter Emanuel’s “diary of the leading and misleading events of 1904,” as recorded in “Charivaria” in the columns of the evergreen Mr. “Punch,” has recently been issued, with the additional embellishment of twenty-four cartoons by Mr. Linley Sambourne and Mr. Bernard Partridge. There is humour enough In the little volume to make the reputation of a dozen diners-out. Here are a few specimens gathered haphazard: January I.—Good resolutions begin. January 2.—Good resolutions end. Detide to keep diary. February 29. —The announcement that Consul’s life was heavily insured leads to appearance of several persons claiming to be his next-of-kin. April 9.—A counterfeit coin factory raided in Southwark. It becomes more difficult every day to make money. April 25.—The over-feeding of infants has been responsible for so many deaths recently that it is proposed to legislate With a view to making it compulsory for

ovory child to be marked with a lond-linc corresponding to the Plinisoll murk oh ships. May 28.—1 t is officially denied that the Czar intends to go to the front. The Japanese have already got far, and it is feared that they might get a Little Father. August 12.—Heir to the Russian throne born. Cried when he heard who he was.

From a Russian Standpoint. A Russian soldier, captured by the Japanese, after eating the first square meal he had ever had in his life—so he confessed—submitted to questioning with the grace of gratitude. Finally they asked him: “What do your officers think of the war?” “Of what they will gain,” said he. “Ami what do you soldiers think of it?” “Of what we shall lose,” was his reply. There is a short, clear, complete catechism of imperialism, militarism, and “glory” generally.

A Solid Smoke. According to Mr V. C. Scott, author of “The Silken East,” one of the curiosities of Burma is the big cheroot which everyone smokes from an early age. “It is a monster, Bin. long, consisting of chopped wood, tobacco, molasses, and various herbs, wrapped in the silverwhite skin of a bamboo, and so wide in diameter that it completely fills up the mouth of any young damsel who tries to smoke it. For presentation purposes, this long cheroot is often wrapped at one end in a coat of purple or gold paper. It accumulates a formidable mass of fire at the lighted end, and requires some skill in the smoking. But the Burman infant acquires’ this skill before he can walk, and while he is still at the breast. No one thinks of smoking such a cigar through- Two or three long puffs, the lips of the smoker thrust out to meet the circle of the cigar, and it is put down, or passed on to some good fellow sitting by.”

A R eally Pretty Girl. I have travelled alien countries (through the medium of books); I have seen (in photogravures) Italy’s sun-burnished skies; I’ve had (stereoptic) visions of cliff-bounded mountain brooks. And tho camera has brought me where Ktllarney’s splendour Iles; (In (he biograph exhibits) I have trodden courts of kings, To the ends of earth (in lectures) I have let my visions whirl, Aud it all one sage conclusion to my comprehension brings: There is nothing half ns splendid as a really pretty girl.

I have seen (in scenic albums) all the gardens of the East. I have been (in dreams fantastic) where the tropic breezes blow; I have watched (in moving pictures) where Niagara like yeast Frothed above Ils splendid chasm and upon the rocks below; By the banks of the Euphrates (done on canvas) I have strolled, In the valley of Yosemite seen Nature’s glories whirl In kaleidoscopic rapture, but when ail the tale is told: There Is nothing half as splendid as a really pretty girl.

When Dame Nature did the firmament and splashed the sombre skies With streaklugs of tho dawning; when she set the moon and star As jewels in the crown of Night and with her gorgeous dyes Made glorious the gardens where the nodding flowers are. She had in mind a vision far beyond the dream of kings. A tingling inspiration that set every sense a-whirl, And after she had practised on these quite imperfect things, She sot to work and fashioned us a really pretty girl. F. W. FOLEY.

A Sure Stop. The president of a certain athletic club which has a fondness for amateur exhibitions of the “manly art,” Jells of the trials of an Irish boxer imported to meet, a local artist. It appears that the visitor was getting the worst of the argument when one ot his friends whispered in his ear: “Brace up, old man, an’ stop some of them blows.” : “Stop ’em?” murmured the unfortunate man. “Do you see anny of thuu git tin' by!’*

Weeding Then Out. As the liner cleared the he«uh ana the heavy swell of the open Atlantic became noticeable, dinner was served. The twenty-six places at the Captain’s table were filled, and as tho soup appeared the Captain addressed his table companions. “I trust that all twentyfive of you will have a pleasant trip,” he sair, “and that this little assemblage of twenty-four will reach port much benefited by the voyage. I look upon these twenty-two smiling faces as a father upon his family, for I am responsible for the lives of uiis group of nineteen. I hope all fourteen of you will join me later in drinking to a merry trip. I believe we seven fellow-passen-gers are admirably suited to each other, and I applaud the judgment which chose from the passenger-list these three persons for my table- You and I, my dear sir. are ” The Captain chuckled. “Here, steward, bring on my fish, and clear away these dishes.”— “Tuck."

Rollo aud His Uncle. “And now, Rollo,” said his uncle, “what shall we see to-day? ’ Rollo clapped his hands in glee. “Don't let’s see anything,” ho exclaimed. “The time has gone by for seeing things. Let’s get on your new auto and go a hundred miles as fast as we can.” .So Rollo’s uncle led the way to the repair shop. “There!” said the repair man, “everything is all right now. You can start right off.” So Rollo’s uncle got in the front seat and Rollo in the back, and they started off. “Tliis is certainly much better than seeing things,” said Rollo, as they whizzed along at about forty miles an hour. “Say. uncle——” _ The machine suddenly stopped. “I guess,” said Rollo’s unde, “that the spark plug is clogged up.” He got after- working on the machine fifteen minutes got it to go again. “You know a lot about machinery, don’t you, uncle?” said Rollo, ingly“1 should say I did,” replied Rollos uncle. “Why, I have had this car for three weeks now, and have been studying it every minute since- Hello! That must be the carbureter.” He got out again, and after working for about an hour, once more they started off. “Is your machine the best one?” asked Rollo. “Yes, Rollo,” replied his uncle, “the very best that money can buy. It has all the latest improvements.” Just then there was a loud report, and the north-west tire collapsed. “What does that mean?" asked Rollo. “That means,” said Rollo’s uncle, as he put ou a corduroy batting suit and got a road pillow to sit on, “that we are up against it until I can get that inner tube out-” “Couldn’t wo move her under that tree?” asked Rollo, anxiously, for he was getting very tired and thirsty. “It’s awful hot in the sun.”

“We might," said Rollo’s uncle, “if w. had a derrick or u tugboat. Have patience, my boy, and show the real automobile spirit. We’ll be out of here in an hour or so.”

After a while they got going again, and Rollo’s uncle said they had better be getting home, as it was nearly sundown. So they went ahead and turned and backed, and got pointed at last in the right direction. “I will now,” said Rollo's uncle, “let her out, just to show you what she can really do.” So he put on the speeder and opened up tho high clutch, and Rollo noticed that the sides of the road began to los® their detail, when suddenly there was a loud snap, and the machine stopped again. “What's the matter now?” asked Rollo. “The chain’s broke,” said Rollo’s uncle. “Does that make any difference?” asked Rollo. “Not much,” said Rollo’s uncle. “It simply means, my dear boy, that we are out of business, and will leave the machine Here while wo walk home, which is only four or five miles away." Rollo began to cry. “It’s mean of you, uncle,” he said, “to treat mo like this.” But his uncle patted him on the back cheerfully. “Brace up, Rollo,” he said. “You don’t understand. You are not old eiiough yet. But when you get to be a full-grown man, like me, then you will see what fun it is to run an automobile.” “But, uncle,” said Rollo, “I thought I heard you say something bad about yours just now when you were lying underneath it.” Rollo’s unde smiled. “I merely remarked.” he said, “that an automobile is a nuisance when you have it, and when you haven't it you’re miserable.”