Musings and Meditations

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLI, Issue 21, 18 November 1908, Page 2

Musings and Meditations

By

Dog Toby

AN ELECTION OROWD.

THE. great interest displayed-in polities can only be appreciated by those who move amongst the crowd on election day and listen to the different remarks. The intelligent grasp of the great questions of the day is astonishing, and should make candidates feel that their oratorical efforts have not been wasted. I have selected a few scraps of conversation, which serve to show how closely our people study the momentous matters on whieh they are called to decide. <s>❖<s■ The first speaker to attract my attention was a workingman. "I tell you what it is, Bill, we don't want these toffs going into Parliament to represent us. We want to send one of ourselves. I’m going to vote for Jack. I remember him when we were mated together in the bush. He could always talk, eould Jack. He used to tell us we were all fools to be slaving away' while other blokes had all they wanted. Said we ought to be Socialists; then everyone could have all be could wish for without doing any work at all. Used to pitch us long yarns about the missus and the kids slaving under the heel of capital. Used to come it a bit strong on the silent heroism of women racket. Reckon he’s altered his views a bit siiiee be got spliced.” <£><«> -®> Excited female: "What I. say is that men are like children. They ail want their beer, ami they ought to be stopped getting it. I never- drank a glass of beer in my life. No,’ nor I wouldn’t never let John touch a- drop neither. Nasty, poisonous stuff I calls it. as does no good' to nobody. I said when wo was married, 'John, you .don't have no beer in this house, nor any horrid, smelly' pipe either. Do you think I’m going to slave day and night for you to waste money on such rubbish?’ I always made him help with the dishes and the children when he came home, instead of letting him idle away his time smoking and drinking. Poor dear, he's gone now! He took work up North, arid 1 said only the day before he left that he would want me to look after him, and I remember he told me not to be surprised if he fell ill and died. I got a letter a few weeks later to say he was dead, and not to bother to go up as they had buried him decent. It’s ray belief he got drinking.” "There's a lot dies in the bush, ma’am,” put in a quiet-looking working man, “especially’ when they’ve been looked after at home as well as your John was. You see, they’ don’t have no one to make ’em clean knives and hoots and dishes and sueli like, and they gets sort of home sick and pines away. Most, likely your John pined away a-tbinkin’ of you.” <t> “ What I say,” maintained a prosper-ous-looking farmer, “is just this. Here is our debt, sixty or seventy million, and who’s going to pay’ it? We want a man like Massey. 1 always vote Opposition, they don’t waste money like the other chaps. The country is just going to the dogs with all these inspectors and regulations and arbitration aets. The farmer makes the country-, and yet they treat him as if he was a milch eow. Yon should have heard our man the other night. He gave us figures to show .” “ Oh, he did talk something lovely,” confided a gushing damsel. " And he came up and spoke to me, and he shook hands with Tom, and said as how he hoped we would vote for him. And he said he would tell Sir Joseph Ward that Tom wanted a farm of his own, and he’s going to get him one so as we can get married. And ho talked beautiful about women and what sense they had, and he said about keeping the cradles full, and Tom Squeezed my hand and giggled, and 1 told him not to be a great silly, as we wasn’t married yet, and mightn’t never bo if he didn’t behave proper. . . .** " Young

man,” an austere female was “ have yon thought about the great ques-' tion to be decided to-day? Are you with us in the matter? You say you don’t agree with Mr. Smith’s polities? What do politics matter? What are party views? If a man is sound on No-license, what difference does it make to us' which side of the House he sits on? The great question for the country- to-day is not as to whether the Government or Opposition gets in, but as to whether that top line is to remain as a disgrace to our civilisation. ’ " What do 1 want with a vote?” said a tired-looking mother. “1 reckon such things should be left to the men, who understand about them, or think they do. By the time I’ve washed up and put the children to-be'd, I'm tod tired to go and listen to a lot of talk: about nothing. I’ve been worried out of my life with people messing round, wanting to know who I’m going to votqfor. I reckon it don't make much difference to us who gets in; we’ve got our work to do, all the same, and Bill don't seem no better off for all his big wages. What with rent, and food, and the -children’s boots. . . .’’ " What do they- want to shut the pubs for ou voting-day.’ ” queried an aggrieved elector. “ How is a man to know who to vote for if he can’t talk it over with his mates over a 'artpint? ” “Do you know,” said a. young mother, “ I’m going to plump foJ Mr. Jones? He's such a dear. Government, is he? I’m sure I don’t know what he is. But he was so nice to' baby, and said he.was the loveliest child he'd ever seen. And so •'oo is, isn't ’6b? The diiekiest ’little toot-sy-wootsy- that ever was. Goo. voo, goo. ...” ....