TOPICS OF THE DAY.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XL, Issue 14, 4 April 1908, Page 42

TOPICS OF THE DAY.

(From Our Special Correspondent.) LONDON, Feb. 14.

THE SUFFRAGETTES AND THEIR TROJAN HORSE.

Following the famous precedent of the Greeks who entered Troy concealed in a wooden horse, the Suffragettes outwitted the police this week in Gid Palace Yard in a fashion that was both humorous and effective, 'filings have come to such a pass that Parliament has now to be protected from a land of resolute women by hundreds of police. Strong men watch the gates of Parliament to protect the trembling legislators from the womenfolk. The rumour of a Suffragette raid on Westminster is sufficient to summon a whole army of policemen to the defence of their fellow-men. No band of women, however determined, might pass through the ranks of these burly custodians of a frightened Cabinet. But the Suffragettes can be as wily as Ulysses of old. Foiled by brute strength, they conquered by a ruse. In a contest of wits the police were no match for the women. The police had turned away all women from the precincts of Paliament, but they had not stopped the stream of vehicles. So when a big furniture van came lumbering along, it was allowed to pass through the cordon. There was no police challenge for anything so commonplace, and the van passed safely into Palace Yard. Suddenly a strange thing happened. The back of the covered van was let down, and out jumped twenty-one women ami girls, who made an instant dash for the Strangers’ Entrance to the Hou-e of Commons. Away went the police in hot pursuit, and the women, all but t wo, w ere headed off just before they reached the entrance. The dauntless twain in front rushed through the door and along the corridor to the outer lobby, calling “ Votes for women! ” until they were stopped by policemen inside and taken into custody. The women outside the door, unable to charge the entrance,

refused to go away, and insisted on being arrested. They struggled with the police until the latter were obliged, very reluctantly, to take them into custody. Other ladies drove round in hansom cabs and made speeches to the delighted spectators, Mrs. Baldwin being armed for the purpose with a megaphone. All was excitement and confusion, and a great multitude of onlookers quickly thronged the square. Meanwhile a Parliament of women, sitting in Caxton Hall, near by, had been passing with enthusiasm a resolution protesting against “ the unconstitutional action of the Government in refusing the Parliamentary vote to women taxpayers,” and demanding a franchise bill. Miss Christabel Pankhurst, the silver-tongued young orator of the movement, roused her audience to fighting pitch in a slashing speech, in the course of which she poured scorn on the comfortable, wellclad women of the middle and aristocratic classes for their apathy towards this reform. The resolution was carried with cheers, and the whole audience streamed out to march to Parliament and present it to the Premier. Down Victoria-street they surged, and into Parliament Square. Here they were met by a cordon of giant policemen, against whom the women were powerless to prevail. But they in their turn refused to go away, and eventually the leaders were arrested, bringing the total number in custody up to 54. Fiftyfour women prepared to endure the humiliation and the hardship of imprisonment to emphasise woman’s right to the vote. Such determination and pluck must surely win in the end.

“ THE BELOVED VAGABOND.”

New Zealand readers of Mr. AV. J. Locke’s delightful novel, “The Beloved Vagabond”—and I hope they are many—• need not regret that they cannot see the dramatised version at His Majesty’s Theatre, London. Mr. Locke has sadly mutilated his fine work in “adapting” it for the stage. The charm of the nove

■was in its atmosphere, its subtle flavour of the Bohemian temperament, its joy of life, and its masterly study of that prince of the open road, Berzelius Nibbiilard Paragot. Most of these qualities vanish in the stage version, in whieh the interest is concentrated on a melodramatic, milk-and-watery story in the style of the old “Family Herald.” One has the painful impression that Mr. Locke has deliberately “written down” to his theatre audience, as though he rated their intelligence far lower than that of his reading publie. In the novel Paragot was above all things a peripatetic philosopher, a musician, a born artist, a Bohemian. His aristocratic lineage was kept in the background, and the melodramatic story of how h'e abandoned love and rank in order to raise money to save his fiancee’s father from disgrace and imprisonment is kept in the background also, and told in a page or two of narrative towards the. end of the book. And in the novel Paragot meets his fiancee Joanna again after long years, tries to become respectable again in order to marry her, trims his long nails, cuts his flowing locks, dons a most uncomfortable frock coat and hideous yellow gloves, and is desperately unhappy until at last he deliberately runs away back to Paris and freedom, and marries little Blanquette de Veau, the companion of his wanderings, leaving his genteel Joanna free to marry the respectable, well-bred; and entirely commonplace English gentleman whom in her heart of hearts she really preferred. Paragot finds happiness in renouncing his rank, turning his back on society, and, with the humble and devoted Blanquette as helpmate, leading the life of a peasant in sunny France. That is the Paragot of the novel. But in the play only the second act gives us the “beloved vagabond. In the first act we find Paragot, as Gaston de Nerac, entertaining a company of high-class Bohemians, who are as prosaic as a borough council. He is about to marry Joanna, daughter of the president of the AngloParisian Bank. To save his fiancee’s noble parent from financial ruin and imprisonment, he sells the lady's hand for half a million francs to the villain of the piece, a wicked French Count, and goes out into the world as Paragot, a I wandering philosopher-minstrel. As such

we see him in the second act, and this ia much the best part of the play. Mr. Beerbohm Tree makes Paragot a very picturesque wanderer, and his acting has many happy suggestions of the Paragot of the novel. In the third act the wicked Count dies, and Joanna, dressed in black, seeks out the dissolute Paragot in order to deliver a letter from the Count. Instead of posting it, she climbs up to his Parisian attic, and there little Blanquette reveals to her the truth about the hero's romantic self-sacrifice. So of course Joanna and Paragot are reconciled, and presumably get married and live happily ever after. And little Blanquette, who loves, the wanderer with such dog-like devotion, sees him carried off by the genteel Joanna, and the curtain comes down amidst the thunders of applause from the sentimental British public.

A CHAMPION FARCE.

Of all the farcical contests for championship honours in the fighting world the meeting between Tommy Burns (conqueror of Bill Squires and Gunner Moir) and Jack Palmer, of Newcastle, at Wonderland last Monday fairly “took the biscuit.” The men matched for £SOO a side, and the World’s Championship, and 80 per cent of the gate receipts. One may reasonably doubt whether the £SOO a side was really “up,” for Palmer’s record is not one that would commend its owner to anyone with commonsense as a man likely to cut the comb of Tommy Burns. If the money was really found for Palmer, his backers must be kicking themselves hard to-day for a set of—er —green-horns. As for Palmer—well—the less said the better. His display in the ring was simply lamentable. From first to last he resolutely declined to box. For three rounds and a-half he posed before Burns, crossing his long arms in front of his body and face, thereby obtaining as much protection as he possibly could from the Canadian’s blows. Seldom, indeed. did he attempt to assume the offensive. and whenever he did so he was promptly floored. Burns seemed puzzled to know what to do with the curious creature in front of him, and at times, when Palmer adopted his shy

r’H attitude, the Canadian simply stood still and smiled. In the short time the contest lasted, Palmer was sent to the board no less than nine times, and when counted out he was sitting on the floor, a trifle dazed perhaps, but a very long way from .being “out.” A more disgraceful exhibition was never given by a man aspiring to World’s Championship honours. Palmer, who weighed some 71bs. less than Burns, stood quite half a head taller than his opponent when they came together. For fully a minute the men crouched and feinted at each other with open gloves. Burns at length fibbiiig his man with the left On the body. Afterwards the Canadian practically had matters all his own way. His first sent the Novocastrian down from a right on the jaw, and then almost immediately after a left hook on the body brought Palmer down again for nine seerfnds. On regaining his feet he covered his body and face by crossing his arms in front of them. Burns tried to get at him and brought home several hits on the back of the head, but the majority found Palmer’s arms or gloves. Eventually the Canadian put the right on the body and down went the Englishman for the third time. Palmer started the second round by dashing in and trying the right, but Burns slipped him and put the left on the head. Palmer then covered himself up again, and made no attempt to hit at all. Burns forced, him round the ring and into the corners, but found it extremely difficult to land a clean blow. Then some hugging took place, and immediately afterwards Palmer was sent down by a right over the heart. After he had come to his feet. Burns several times tapped him on the head and body, but took matters very easily till “time.” Coming together for the third round Palmer at once covered himself up, and made no attempt to hit, Burns in the meanwhile putting several swings on to the head. Then Palmer for a moment or two stood up and faced his man, but at once was hit heavily on the face and body, and was sent down. He remained there for eight seconds, and on rising “took cover,” until Burns, after standing still and looking him over for quite twenty seconds, found an open spot and sent him to the boards for nine seconds. On . rising. Palmer again hid his head, but with Burns lashing out and hitting him when and where he could, he temporarily raised himself, and twice put the right on to the Canadian’s head, but these blows did not hurt Burns. In the fourth round Burns made an effort to force matters but could not make Palmer box. At length he put the right heavily on the body, and down the Englishman went again. He rose, and they got to holds, and out of this Palmer went down without a blow. Ordered to get up he again covered his face, but after fiddling about for a few seconds, Burns caught Palmer napping, and Slipped him heavily on the chin with the right. Palmer went to the boards and there he sat until counted out.