HERE AND THERE.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXV, Issue 25, 23 December 1905, Page 15

HERE AND THERE.

His Troubles. Ills trouble was a winsome maid Compact of witcheries and wiles; She, like an April sky, displayed Now cloudy frowns, now dazzling smiles. How dealt he with this vexing case? Wisely he acted out his part;— With outer and with inner grace He hugged his trouble to his heart. Marvellous. The conjuror stepped forward Ho the front of the stage and said: “Ladies and gentlemen, if there is in this audience any young man who would like to know the name of his future wife, I will undertake to tell him.” Up jumped a young man. “Thank you I” said the conjuror. “Now I always like to do things in a proper business fashion. Will you kindly give me your name?” “Yes, certainly,” said the young man; “my name is Johnston.” “Thank you,” replied the conjuror. “Then the name of your future wife will be Mrs Johnston.” A Valuable Effigy. When King Edward was Prince of Wales, his habits and movements were marked by a simplicity which would doubtless characterise them still if he were not obliged, by reasons of state, to submit to another and more ceremonious existence. But in the days before His Majesty’s accession, he was one day driving a dog cart alone and unattended, when he encountered on a country road an old woman coining back from market, carrying a heavy basket. She seemed almost ready to drop, and the prince stopped and talked to her. Then lie offered to give her a lift, which the good dame gladly accepted. Chatting as they went, His Highness asked the old woman what she had in her basket. “Eggs, butter, and vegetables, which I hope soon to And customers for,” was the reply. “I like fresh eggs,”, said the prince,, “and if you’ll let me have the lot I’ll give you the portrait o. my mother.” “The portrait of your mother!” exclaimed the poor woman, in astonishment, “what good would that do me?” “Well, you never know,” Said the Prinee of Wales, smiling; “just you let me have the eggs.” And as they were nearing the old woman’s cottage, His Highness laid his hand on the basket, took out half a dozen eggs, and handed the astonished market-woman a. gold coin bearing the effigy of the late Queen Victoria. Tkc Story of His Life. A lady who went up to Rotorua for her health seemed proud of being an invalid. She lost no opportunity of stating that she came to recuperate. She did not hesitate to enter into conversation with any person with whom she came in contact, giving advice, climatological or physiological, to invalids, and seeking the same from those of robust constitution. Her conversation was always prefaced with the introductory inquiry so common to visitors: “Did you come here for your health?” She thus addressed a stalwart, ruddy-visaged young man at a dinner-table a few days since, and the following conversation ensued:

“Yes, madam, I came here probably the weakest person you ever saw. I had no use of my limbs; in fact, my hones were but little tougher than cartilages. I had no intelligent control of a single muscle nor the use of a single faculty.”

“Great Heavens!” exclaimed the astonished auditor; “and you lived?” “I did, madam, although I was devoid of sight, was absolutely toothless, unable to articulate a single word, and flependent upon others for everything, lining completely deprived of all power to help myself, I commenced to gain Immediately up£> my arrival, and have «

scarcely experienced a sick day since, hence I can conscientiously recommend the climate.” “A wonderful case!” said the old lady; “hut do you think your lungs are affected?” “They were probably sound, but possessed of so little vitality that but for the most careful nursing they must have ceased their functions.” “I hope you found kind friends, sir.” “Indeed I did, madam; it is to them and the pure air of Rotorua that I owe my life. My father’s famuy were with me, but unfortunately my mother was prostrated by a severe illness during the time of my greatest weakness.” “How sad! Pray, what was your diet and treatment?” “My diet was the simplest food possible. As for treatment, I depended entirely upon the life-giving air of Rotorua, and took no medicine except an occasional light narcotic when very restless. My improvement dated from my arrival.” “Remarkable, miraculous I Surely, sir, you must have been greatly reduced in flesh.” “Madam. I weighed but nine pounds. I was born in Rotorua." Peek-a-boo. My lady is modest — so modest and nice; He rlanguage Is prudent and chaste. Yet she covers her charms with that flimsy device Best known as the pek-a-boo waist. She blushes at mention of marriage and man. And frowns at the ballet's attire; But wheu her few garments we eagerly scan • We wonder could Eve have been shyer? My lady will pout at au over-rude look And faint at a word or a wink: But her garments are held as if crossing a brook, And her hose would drive Comstock to drink. My lady is modest — she says so — and shy, And men are such monsters to stare; But If men were angels, between you and I, What think you my lady would wear? ❖W Inspiration. Goethe was met at the door by his wife. “The new cook has come!” she cried joyfully. Herewith he instantly dashed off tho Jewel Song.

Jabersmky. A “Lewis Carroll” dinner was given recently at Simla. All the guesta wore costumes after characters in “Alice in Woi.derland” and “Alice Through the Looking Glass.” The menu consisted of Little Fishes of the Sea. Soups of the Evening, Beautiful SoupMock Turtle Soup. Now, if you’re ready. Oyster dear, We can begin to feed. Chased Flamingoes with Croquet Balls. - Slithey Tovcs. Mutton (already introduced). Pig and Pepper. Dodo resuscitated. Stolen Tarts. Wonderful Pudding. Looking Glace. Daddy and Me. Mv dad he often looks al me And says how very glad he'd be If he could only be a boy. I guess that it's so long ago Since he was one, he doesn't know That being boys ain't so much joy. Now you just bet I'd be real glad To be grown up as big as dad. And have a beard and never do A thing less 1 Just wanted to. It's “Johnny, wipe your feot!" and “Say, You do those errands right away!" And. “Johnny, are your lessons done?” And “John, now run to bed, my son." I don't wish daddy any harm, But I would almost give a farm If ho could be a boy and see The trouble that he gives to me. Proof Positive. Among the hills of Sligo there is a small lake renowned in that region for its fabulous depth, and the Liverpool “Daily Post” tells the following story concerning it: A well-known professor, who was in that part of Ireland this summer, started one clay for a mountain, accompanied by a native guide. As they climbed Pat. asked him if he would like to see the lake, “for it’s no bottom at all. sorr.” “How do you know that, Pat?” asked the professor. “Well, sorr. I’ll tell ye. Me own cousin was showin' the pond to a gentleman one day sorr, and he looked incredulous like, just as you do, and ml? cousin couldn't stand it for him to doubt his word, sorr, and so he said: ‘l'll prove the truth of me words,’ he said, and off with his clothes and into the water he jumped.” The professor’s face wore an amused and quizzical expression. “Yes, sorr, in ho jumped, aud-didn't Come up again, at all, at all.”

“But, said the professor, “I don’t see that he proved the point by drowning himself.”

“Is it drowned? Divil a bit drowned at all lie was. Sure, didn’t a cable come from him next day in Australia askin’ for his clothes lo be sent on!”

Burnt Offerings. Quoth the little god Love (who Is greater far • Than the wrathful and high gods be), •‘These hearts that ye bring for an offering They are never the gifts for me; They are young or old, they are whole and cold, Yet seldom to my desire. Let the g’fts ye give that my fame may live lie burning and burnt with fire.” Quoth the little god Love, “Shall iny altar atone Re mocked with a trifling thing? Shall I take the sign for the right divine—fs tinsel the gift of a king? Ye profane my name when ye give these tame. Poor gauds without pulse or start. Let the white smoke rise from your sacrifice Of the beating, burning heart.” Lord Love, thou hast fallen on evil days. Men trade in a sordid mart, Yet thy faithful still at thy altars spill The flame of the burning heart. The Philosophy of Terry Fagan. Never beef over spilt milk; dere ’s Vousands of cows makin* new milk every day. So be a good feller, get yer can, an’ line up wit’ de rest. Never put de people wise to er good t’ing; when yer find a pipe da Vs all right, smoke it alone. Never count your chickens before dey’re hatched. Dere might be two in er shell and den your count would be Wrong.

Never play both ends to de centre. Yer liable to git a knot in yer string. Never tell de folks w’at yer would do if yer was de president. Yer might be him some day, an’ den you’d have to make good yer cracks. Never argue wit’ a mule. It’s liable to bring on de habit of talkin’ to yerself. Never look fer a prevaricator. Jess ask de first lady friend yer meet how old she is, an’ dere yer are, Oscar! Never stop a dog-fight. One of ’em is sure to be gittin’ de best of it, an’ you know how you would feel if you was him.

Never tell a woman her face is familiar. She might have more dan one map, and dere you’d be in de nine hole an' no chance to peg out.

Never gap at a car conductor cf he don’t ring up his fares. His register might be on de bum or de poor feller’s arms might be broke. You can’t always tell. ,

Never cross a bridge till yer make sure dere *s a bridge un yer route. Hen git busy. Never git into de habit of rubberin’ behind yer. Not dat yer’ll turn inter a sack of salt, but you’ve got a swell chance to turn into a coal chute or an elevator shaft. Never fergit de Gilden Rule; do undo others every time de juicy opportunity opens up.

Never swell up w'en yer bank roll is a little fat. Every dog has his day, an’ yer still a dog, yer know’. Never t’ink yer de only shake in a chill Wen yer gits dat dream inter yer pinnacle, yer sure to crawl out and find yerself on a blank.—New York “Life.” Entirely Different Thing. M. Sato, one of Japan's representatives at the Peace Conference, was chatting with some newspaper men, one of .whom suggested that a plain statement was enough for a treaty of peace, and that elaborate wording was not necessary. The Jap. dissented from this view, and, by way of illustration, told of an African traveller who was relating a harrowing adventure. “I peered into the jungle,” said the traveller, “and saw a trunkless lardy.” One of his auditors said, sarcastically: “Whoever heard of a trunkless body?” The traveller answered, calmly: “This was the body of an elephant." Heaven Over-arches. Heaven overarches earth and sen, Earth-sadness and sea-bitterness. Heaven overarches you and me; A little while and we shall be — Please God — where there Is no more sea Nor barren wilderness. Heaven overarches you nnd me, And all earth's gardens and her graves, Look up with me. until we see The day break and the shadows flee. Whai though to-night wrecks yon and me. If so. to-morrow saves? r CHRISTINA ROSSETTI.

Lively Pmengeh. A cablegram to Captain Hiram K. Whiffin, master of the Chutney Wallah, at Rangoon, Burma, to “take 2 or 3 monkeys to London” was mistranslated into, “Take 203 monkeys to London with you.” The captain, fearing some monkeys might die, took five hundred. None died. They got out of their cages; wrung the necks of all the fowls on board; threw belaying-pins and other articles from aloft at the crew; let the braces go, and got the vessel flat a back with a violence that nearly took the stick.; out of her; got hold of the captain’s chronometers, and caused the captain to get four hundred miles out of his reckoning; overturned paint and tarpots on the decks, so painting and tarring had to be abandoned; and generally brought the crew to the point of suicide. The capture of the monkeys cost £lOO, and the damage to the ship was over £OOO. What the owners said is not recorded. <s><S*s> Her Literary Loves. They had just met; conversation was somewhat fitful. Finally he decided to guide it into literary channels, where he was more at home, and, turning to his companion, asked: “Are you fond of literature ? ’ “Passionately,” she replied. “I love books dearly.” “Then you must admire Sir Walter Scott,” he exclaimed with sudden animation. “Is not his 'Lady of the Lake’ exquisite in its flowing grace and poetic imagery* Is it not ” “It Is perfectly lovely,” she assented, clasping her hands in ecstasy. “I suppose I have read it a dozen times.” “And Scott’s ’Mannion,’ ” he continued. “with its rugged simplicity and marvellous description—one can almost smell the heather on the heath while perusing its splendid pages.” “It is perfectly grand,” she murmured. “And Scott’s ‘Peveril of the Peak’ and his noble ‘Bride of Lammermoor’ —where in the English language will you find anything more heroic than Ills grand auld Scottish characters and his graphic, forceful pictures of feudal times and customs? You like them, I am sure.” “I just dote upon them.” she replied. “And Scott’s Emulsion,” lie continued, hastily, for a faint suspicion was beginning to dawn upon him. “I think,” she interrupted, rashly, •That it’s the best thing he ever wrote.” Round the Clock With Shakespeare. Not many lovers of Shakespeare a works know that a quotation can bd made from them for each hour of the day. But such is the ease, and here they are: “The bell then beating one.” —“Hamlet.” Act I. “Sure, Luciana, it is two o’clock.” —“Comedy’ of Errors.” Act 11. “The clock hath stricken three.” —“Julius Caesar.” Aet 11. Richmond: “How far into the morning Lords: “Upon the stroke of four.” is it. lords?” —“Richard III.” Act V. At five o’clock I shall receive'the money for the same.” —“Comedy’ of Errors.” Act IV. Prospero: “How’s the day?” 'Ariel: “On the sixth hour, at the which time, my lord, You said our work should eease.” • —“The Tempest.” Aet V. “Let’s see, I think ’tis now some seven o’clock.” —“The Taming of the Shrew.’’ Act IV. “The eighth hour. Be that the uttermost?” —“Julius Caesar.” Aet 11. “It’s supper-time, my lord; f It’s nine o’clock.” —“Richard III.” Art V. Parollcs: “Ten o’clock; within these three hours ’twill be time enough to go home.” —“All Well That’s Ends Well.” Act IV. ' Ford: “Eleven o’clock the hour.” •—“Merry Wives of Windsor.” Act IV. Hamlet :“What hour now?” Horatio; “I think it lacks of twelve.” —“Hamlet.” Act I.

A Disappearing Island. The efforts of engineers to save Heligoland from the sea are likely to prove unavailing. Since the cession of the island to Germany in 1890, Heligoland has lost much of its area, not only through the collapse of its sandy eliffs, which offer fragile resistance to the encroaching sea,’ but also through a sinking of its south shore. Engineers have been at work filling crevices with rocks and building breakwaters, but it has been found that the very sea floor on which these have been constructed is unstable. In 1890 the circumference of the island was three and three-quarter miles. It is now three miles. Sights of a Great City. The stranger within the city’s gates was seeing the sights under the espionage of a guide. This worthy individual had the stranger to the window of a sky-seraper. “What is that huge mass of architecture yonder?” inquired the stranger, pointing to a great structure looming up on the distant horizon. “That is a brewery,” replied the guide. “Um —er,” hesitated the stranger, nodding toward a synagogue in the immediate foreground, “and that, I suppose, is a Hebrewery?” Whereupon the guide was convulsed with laughter, for he wrote jokes for the papers when he was not otherwise engaged. Ear-Piercing Superstitions. The popular notion that piercing the ear exercises a beneficial influence upon the optie nerve is very widespread. Little more than a century ago many men in Vienna wore earrings for the good of the eyes. Village folk in England believe in the good effect of ear piercing on the eyes just as firmly as their like in Italy and elsewhere abroad. In fact, in some places ear piercing is regarded by the rustics as a remedy for m’any troubles. At the other side of the world boys have their ears pierced from a different motive. A writer on Chinese superstitions says that John Chinaman pierces his little boy’s ears and makes him wear earrings so that if an evil spirit happens to see him he will mistake him for a girl, and will not take the trouble to carry- him away.

Full Particular. Glvml A small boy who had recently pasM* his fifth birthday was riding in a suburban car with his mother, when they were nsked the customary, question, “How old is the boy?” After being told the correct age, which did not require a fard, the conductor passed on to the next person. The boy sat quite still, as if pondering over some question, and then, concluding that full information had not been given, called loudly to the condue* tor, then at the other end of the edr, “And mother’s thirty-one!” Necessity and Invention. A mother with her seven children started away on a journey. After entering the car, the largest child was laid out fiat on the seat, and the remaining six then sat upon him in a row. When the conductor came around to collect the fares, the mother counted her money, handed it over, smiled, and suavely said: “Sir, the oldest is under six.” Athlete. Numerous There. Amusements are scarce in Persia, according to an explorer, who reports that there are no theatres there. The Persians, however, delight in athletic sports, and their athletes are men of superb physique. Their method of training for feats of strength would, nevertheless, hardly, commend itself to British trainers. Before giving their displays in public, Persian athletes lie in bed for several days to store up their strength. Queer as the custom is, however, there is no question that the Persian Sandows and Samsons show enormous strength and endurance. In the arenas in which they perform,, they will go through their exercises in the way of swinging heavy clubs to the accompaniment of music for two hours at a time. In fact, there is a clubswinging competition, the athlete whd holds out the longest winning theprize.

In wrestling, too, they perform extraordinary feats, eases having been known of Persian champions who have wrestled with and overcome more than twenty powerful antagonists during a single athletic display. Such performances are as popular in Persia as are bull-fights in Spain.