FACTS, FANCIES, QUIPS & COMMENTS

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLI, Issue 24, 9 December 1908, Page 53

FACTS, FANCIES, QUIPS & COMMENTS

FROM THE AUSTRALIAN PAPERS.

Excuses are one of the necessaries of life. Ever since the incident of the appi , man has been in need of excuses to present to wives, sisters, aunte, landladies, creditors, friends, judges, bosses, gods and posterity. For thousands of years the human animal has been constructing the story that turneth away wrath, but the one that is sound in all its legs and can be guaranteed to go tire full distance and pull in good order has still to be invented. The best of excuses always limps a bit in the off fore-leg; the ordinary back excuse that hobbles into the divorce case or breaeh-of-promiae action is so lame that it has to arrive on all fours. An aged but giddy person of 62 was lately sued in an .English court by a lady of 24 with whose affections he was alleged to have trifled. A number Of his letters were read out, and in one of them he stated: “My reason for not writing before was my swollen feet.” <s> <S> <s> A sermon on "Horses and Horseracing” was delivered recently by the llev. C. Hudson in Holy Trinity Church. lie showed that for staying power and long distances the present-day thoroughbred had sadly deteriorated. This was -owing to the animals being bred too leggy. In 1700 the average height was 14 hands, in 1800 it was 14.3, and in ISOO it had reached 15.2 J. Short races were also responsible for the depreciation, the animals being now trained for spriatiig. Real sport had departed from tlie pastime, which was how merely a gambling medium. If the owner were straight, the trainer might not be, and if both were right there was the jockey to consider. If all were right they would be run off the course. "Sol”-Green had declared in the Melbourne “Argus” that gambling, not betting, was the bookmaker’s vocation. Those who betted were either thieves or fools. If they knew the winner they were thieves, and if they did not they were fools. God’s design was that the horse should be man's aid and friend, but through racing the attainment of this purpose Was lost. <s>s><s> Entering the Sydney General Post Office, a recent arrival from Germany, who .wanted to register a letter, found himself ushered into a room in which was seated a medical man, who examines certain applicants for employment. “Take off your coat and vest,” said the doctor, addressing the young German.

“Vat for?” replied the astonished one. “Oh, come on,” said the doctor, in businesslike fashion; “no humbug; hurry up. Does that hurt?” After getting several sharp taps in the region of the lungs, the doctor again inquired, “Does that hurt?” With a look which betokened trouble, the German answered, “Nien (no); but if dis tarn nonsense don’t soon stop somebody gets hurt!”

“Vote for A. Farthing” is a legend that was familiar about Melbourne last week. Air A. Farthing was a candidate for the City Council. At a little distance his window bills read: “Vote for Farthing Reform.” We are reminded of the time ■when a Mr Penny put up for the Legislative Assembly in one of the country constituencies. “The People’s Penny” was his catchline. He played on his name for a long time, till one night a derisive elector eried at a meeting: “Garn! what are you? Why, it would take twelve like you to make change for a Bob!” “Bob” was the Christian name of the popular rival candidate. <><>•s A Newcastle (N.S-W.) cabman was telling a friend he had an idea of visiting the North of Queensland. The friend, however, advised him not to go, because the heat in the summer r.se to 150 in the shade. “But,” the cabman replied, “do you think 1 should be a dorn fool to stop in the shade all day!” «- <s> <S> A youth from the country, who was new to the delights of city lodgings, recently entered a small general store, and, producing a bottle labelled “Best Unsweetened Gin,” asked for a pint of kerosene. “Better take the label off in case of accidents, hadn’t I?” asked the storekeeper. "Don’t matter a bit,” was the reply, “there’s only me and the cat ever go to the cupboard, and I don’t mind if I do kill the cat.” “Killed the cat yet?” asked the storekeeper, as the youth was parsing next day. “No, I ain’t,” said the youth, with a puzzled look, “but there’s a bit of a mystery somewhere. My landlady has been queer since last night; she won’t .open her mo'uth within yards of a box of matches, and she smells something awful o’ kerosene.” .«>«>«> “A.C.N” sends to a Melbourne paper a note upon the introduction of English shell snails, which are now the worst of garden pests. “The late Baron von Mueller, when director of the Melbourne Botanical Gardens (1857-1873), took a keen interest in the Acclimatisation Society of Melbourne. One of the things he sought to introduce were glow-worms sent from England. But, alas, when the ease was opened the ‘little lamps’ were in Harkness—the glow-worms were dead. However, the shell snails, whose slimy moisture was to have fed the glowworms, were alive. The baron, who was sometimes —indeed usually—very pitiful, said, ‘Put dose snails in de garden,’ and I did so. though many a time since I have wished that I had been less obedient. They multiplied as only snails can,

and only this evening, in his ‘private path,’ they were being crunched under tfoot. No doubt many shell snails and their eggs came to this country *n plant

rises and by other means, but those turned out in the Melbourne Bota it i- il Gardens in , 1 think, 1860 nr 1862. were the first seen here, though perhaps not the sole progeniG of the hosts that have come to stay unless vigorously dealt with.” Some quaint stories re a Tatt.’s sweep winner are circulated in Melbourne. The favoured child of fortune in this case was a cautious old agriculturist, who took his luck rather gloomily. Too cautious to collect his unearned thousands through a bank, he went over to Hobart to present his ticket in person, and with the idea of getting all the prize in gold he borrowed a money bag from a neighbour. The neighbour had been in the habit of keeping a coirplc of bent threepenny bits in the bag “for luck,” and they were there when he loaned the receptacle to the farmer, but when the bag came back from Tasmania it was as empty as a drum. The old chap had gathered the two thrums into his personal estate. Presently he crowded his fortune into a pockeGbook, put a horny hand of the breast pocket in case of accidents, and went off' to Premier Bent for information as to the best Government stock to put his sweep money into. Bent seemingly was in too much of a hurry to listen to all the yarn, so he said, “My good man, go on the Land!” “But. sir,” said the gloomy visitor, “I’m just off the land.” The story ends here. <s> ‘S’ There wa.s something extra in the way of a clearing-out sale in Sydney the otlier day. Freeman and Wallaee, the don’t- you -feel -well young-man people, who used to spend thousands a year in ■advertising—their bill in one year, it is alleged, reached £ 14/100 —had poured over them recently the most blistering remarks that have come from the N.S.W. Supreme Court Bench for many a year; and what with that, and the verdict, and costs, and other hard knocks, the auctioneer wa#> called in to sell up the whole show. And an amazing show it was. The offices —■piles of offices—looked as though two earthquakes had fought three rounds in each room. The letters from the young men who didn’t feel well were scattered six inches deep over the floor, ami the firm's typewritten letters to tlie man who had specks before the e,yea rose like icebergs in half a dozen corners. The crowd that turned up to get the bargains jammed itself into poky offices and winding stairways, and squeezed out the ghosts, and any man who happened t wink off a bead of perspiration found that a gross of “No. 7” medicine had been knocked down to him for 1/H. Re-markable-looking, weird electrical contraptions which must have cost £5O or £ 100 were sold to daring speculators for £G or £B. The boss of a city socaalpurity mission, who was nosing round in search of thrills in a new “den of iniquity,” found a typewriter handed to him for £li—a typewriter that had been worn out in the struggle to assure the young man that if he didn’t send £l9 10/ at an early date he would be Lost. And then desk after desk was sold—desks that looked as though they had been left in a hurry (evidently when the two earthquakes arrived on the landing), and,

probably on the strength of what miglt he inside tbcm. they sold for as much a.v £ 15. 8( If th-, social purity mission man who bought the wicked old typewriter will probably get the inwst beautiful revelations, if only he can get the weary •'■ 'rument to tell all it knows.