ECHOES OF THE WEEK.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Volume XII, Issue 717, 3 December 1903, Page 14

ECHOES OF THE WEEK.

(By

“Ithuriel”)

In the little village of Gallac, a short distance from Paris, stands a statue of Marshal Soult, which causes everyone who reads the inscription on it to rub his eyes and take another look. It reads thus : —“ In obedience to a wish expressed in the last will of our glorious hero Marechai Soult, whose valiant deeds will never be forgotten, this equestrian statue has been cast from the bronze of the guns which he captured from the enemies of his country.” The immortal hero, is, nevertheless, represented standing leaning on his sword, with no horse! in sight, and the statue is of marble. And still the natives are very proud of the way in which they have canned out the hero’s last wish.

“ Good,” remarked the medical examiner at the assurance office, “ and at what age did your grandfather die?” “He was just turned a hundred and three,” replied the applicant. “ Precisely. And the cause of his death?”

“ Well —er —nothing in particular. I s’pose he thought it was a fair blanky thing to do, anyhow.”

There are folk in Auckland to whom the following, from the pen of “Atticus” in the “Leader,” will appeal “We are badly in need of an official blue book laying down rules for the guidance of ordinary citizens in their dealings with important policemen. It might be entitled, Etiquette for Common Men in Communing With Constables. The need of such a book has often occurred to mv mind, and I might have compiled it had I been sufficiently familiar with the idiosyncrasies of constables and the extent of their expectations. The other'day a policeman took a citizen to court for calling him an old woman. The epithet was provoked by the policeman’s peculiar method of dragging for a drowned bodv with a hoop. The bench fined the offender ios., and let it be known definitely that the etiquette for common men communicating with constables forbids them calling the officer an! old woman no matter how great the provocation. The Melbourne policeman is a very sensitive and shrinking soul, and his sense of his owru dignity is many sizes too large for the position he holds in the scheme of things. If he is not persuaded to c»mi down a peg or two we may presently see stout and reputable citizens running wildly down side streets to avoid encountering a constable, realising that there is more risk in passing a policeman than in facing the average criminal.

A rather smart piece of detective work was accomplished in the city last week by a private detective. Goods were stolen to the amount of £l2. The case was given into the hands of the private detective, with the result that the stolen property and the thief were in custody within 24 hours.

THE NEW ZEALAND ILLUSTRATED MAGAZINE.

The Christmas Number of the “New Zealand Illustrated Magazine” is to hand. It is a specially interesting and attractive issue. The frontispiece is from a painting, entitled “Summer Night,” by L. J. Steele. The opening chapters are given of a humorous serial story by Capt. Abram, with the sug gestive title of “Two Retired Mariners.” They buy a buggy and fit it up with an anchor in case the horse bolts. The bolt occurs in the main street, the anchor is cast, but owing t'o the holding ground being bad, it simply swings about the street endangering life and limb, and resulting in a Court case which is comically depicted. “Sumptuary Laws” is the title of an interesting article describing the quaint laws limiting wearing apparel and number of meals in too luxurious days long past. “Among our Alpine Lakes” is a beautifully illustrated article on the Southern Lates “Rusticus” gives in “Nicotiana Quaedam, or Stray Whiffs,” a delightful account of the opinions of poets and literary men on the subject of tobacco. This should on no account be missed by anj' votary of the weed. Here is a quotation :— “Why here’s a man of parts. After my heart of hearts. Who from tradition darts In diagnosis ; And has the pluck to say That good tobacco may Not generate but slay Tuberculosis. “I shall smoke more and more Till with my oipe’s rank store I am all sicklied o’er, Streaked like a Choctaw' ; Not till my latest puff Shall I cry ‘quantum suff,' Or render thanks enough Unto thee, Doctor.” “Christmas Ducks,” written and illu—trated by Brenach, is specially i ted for the season, both in subject and style. It is a sketch, which must have been taken from life, of an old lady in an upcountry settlement whose hospitality is open to all. She it is; to whom the whole settlement go in their troubles and joys. The story is told in Brenach’s best style. “From Cape Town to Salisbury” is the first instalment of a g’v phic account of a New Zealander’s journey through South Africa by train ana coach. The concluding chapters of the serial, “A Golden Reef,” appear, and it is enough to say that, this realistic mining story ends as happily as every goed story should. K. E. Leefe contribute* “Friday’s Adventures with Bully Hayes.” It is the best and most exciting of this series of Island Sketches. In it, Friday, who is then but a boy on the old pirate’s schooner, manages with the aid of another ship’s boy to frustrate the old reprobate’s attempt to carry off a beautiful French girl, Marie Le Moy, on whom he had set his evil eye. Horace Stebbing selects Schubert for the subject of his Musical Sketches. The Musgrove Shakesperian Co. gets an appreciative notice under the stage heading from tha: capable critic S. E. Greville-Smith. The Picture Gallery contains reproductions of prize photos of New Zealand scenery, and the usual contributions, My Ladv’s Bower, Literary Chat, etc., etc., all find a place. The magazine is beautifully illustrated, and reflects great credit on those engaged in its production.