ANECDOTES AND SKETCHES

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVII, Issue 25, 22 December 1906, Page 32

ANECDOTES AND SKETCHES

Silt FIIEDEIiH K BRIDGE. Sir Frederick Bridge lias ‘‘presided’* tit the Westminster Abbey organ for more than 30 years. He is a cheerful, busy, still astonishingly juvenile man. with a cuiioiisly prominent nose, and they do call him, it is ■ said, "Westminster fßridge.” He has been called the Sydney (Smith of his profession, and he certainly lias a ready wit and a pretty knack of caricature. The following notice was once -fastened up in the music-room at the Abbey, the authorship of which will be readily divined: ‘‘The Great and Swell occupants of the Organ J.oft invite the Choir. if they can descend Solo(w), to a friendly Manual and Pedal exercise, entitled ( ticket. Every player i< requested to provide a Full Score, and it is hoped many runs will be executed, though no ‘■great shakes” are expected. All particulars will be settled at the rehearsal on Tuesday next at a-quarter to eleven. p.S. — A Pall Broof Cuirass will be provided. and a doctor will attend.” Sir Frederick is a.loyal citizen of Westminister, where he has the privilege of dwelling in a most beautiful old-world house in the Cloisters, called the Liltelton Tower. He is on special terms of friendship with another eminent citizen of Westminster, Mr. Henry Labouchere, in whose honour he once wrote the following clever parody in the stormy days when Th. Balfour was Chief Secretary for Ireland:-— ‘•J.ABY IN <O ABBEY.’’ Of all the boys that are so smart, There's none like crofty I.abby: H» learns the secret of each heart. \ml lives near our Abbey. There is no lawyer in the land That's half ns sharp as I.abby; He is a demon in the art. Ami guileless as a Ijabby’ For •Bomba Balfour” in the week There scents to be no worse day Than the one that comes between A Tuesday ami a Thursday. F<>r then we read each foul misdeed. •*l■ninaiily, mean and shabby. Exposed to view in type so true By penetrating I.abby. The ministers and members all Make game of truthful I.abby. Though but for him ’tis said they's be They Tiope to bury I.abby: And when their seven long years arc out They hope to bury labby; Ah! then how peacefully he'll lie, But not in our Abbey!

THE REACT fON. .Tones sat down to his dinner with a j»isfh of satisfaction. Jt had be n a hard day. and he was in need of physical sustenance. Yet, as he glanced about the table, a feeling of vague uneasiness swept over him. •| thought wo were not going io use baker’s bread any more?’’ he. said somewhat testily. “You know we agreed, after reading that advertisement the other day in the 'Monthly Magazine.’ that we would have the bread baked at home after this.” "Cook's bread wasn't very good this week. dear, so I sent to the baker’s tor a loat.” "Well, doughy bread made out of white flour is ruinous to the digestion. I know it because that advertisement said Mrs. .Tones made no reply. She was Im-y serving some sliced tomatoes. The old man glanced at the delicious crimson slices somewhat sceptically. "Let's we. I was reading somewhere an article by someone who said tomatoes calist’d spinal meningitis.’’ he said, pushing away the dish his wife had placed before him, di-(astefully. "Who wrote the article?*’ ‘•(Hi. it wa> all right—some doctor wrote it.” The look on his face indicated that he was done eating tomatoes for the re-t of his life. "Try some of this steak.’’ said his patient partner, cal mix'. She was not a woman to lose her temper -imply because roic thing on her table was criticised. "I lea vens!” he exclaimed. ‘'You don't —expect me to oaf st ak. or sausage, or things like that!” “Why not. John? Wo have sometimes had siieli thing* — frequently, in fact.

Well, dear, at least yon can eat some fruit ami cream?” “I’m afraid not; I was reading somewhere that fruit causes gout and insan“Try sonic raw eggs. They arc nice and light.” “Raw eggs!” cried Jones, excitedly. “Didn't you see where that writer in ■Qiiex's Magazine' said raw eggs were more indigestible than cooked ones?” He rose from the table and went despairingly info his study, where he dived recklessly into a pile of magazines and papers. After an hour or two his wife ventured into his Jen and looked fearfully at her husltand. He looked so thin and pale that her heart ached for him. Presently the Old Man looked up. His wife detected a rather unusual firmness about his lower jaw, and noted a steely glitter in his eye. “What's the matter. John?" she asked. “Matter? Why, matter enough. I'm hungry; that's what's the matter. Ami I’m goiiig to eat something, too. Not only something, but I'm going to eat the whole d n lot. if it kills me! Let's have dinner.”

BALFOURANA. At Eton Mr. Balfour was Lord Lansdowne's fag. and it is recorded that his lordship kept the future Prime Minister constantly ‘on the run.” lie was then a tall, lanky, delicate youth nicknamed “Miss Nancy." He preferred philosophical study and debates in the Eton Society to sport in the playing-fields. At Cambridge he gained favourable notice, and. shortly after he left the University, Lord Beaconsfield significantly remarked, ‘‘Arthur Balfour will be a second Pitt." Mr. Balfour’s life was in some danger during his term as Chief Secretary for Ireland. Regardless of all peril, however, he insisted on his game of golf. On the links. 50yds ahead of the statesman, stood a big- brawny fellow with bulging pockets; 50yds behind him another man. also with bulging pockets. Instead of a caddy to carry his clubs, Mr. Balfour had his groom—also with bulging pockets. the men of muscle were two of the best detectives in Ireland. Their pockets were bulging with readv-loaded six-ehambered revolvers—so were the pockets of the caddy-groom. Happily no Fenian appeared, and the Chief Secretary made a capital score. liaising his’hat to a group of ladies while cycling on his estate, Mr. Balfour managed to fall into a flower-bed. ‘'You did that very gracefully,” said a friend. Mr. Balfour, who has a pretty wit, replied, “I always dismount in the presence of ladies.

THE FORGETFUL SAURIAN. A coloured preacher took some candidates for immersion down to a river in Louisiana. Seeing some alligators in the stream, one of them objected. “Why, brother,” urged the pastor, “can't yon trust the Lord? He took care of Jonah, didn’t he?” “Y-a-a s,” admitted the darky, “but a whale's diff'rent. A whales got a memory, but ef one o’ dem ’gators wus ter swaller dis nigger, he'd jes’ go teasleep dar in de sun an’ fergit all ’bout inc.”

NO MISTAKE. The editor was apologizing over the telephone for an annoying typographical error in his paper. "In our account of the meeting at which you were chairman last night, colonel.” he said, "we tried to say, ‘Following is a detailed report of t*he proceedings,’ but it appeared in print, as perhaps t'ou have noticed, ‘Following is a derailed report,’ and so forth. Mistakes of that kind, you know, will ” “It may have been an accident,” interrupted the man at the other end of the wire, "but it wasn't the mistake. You side tracked most of the report.”