Varieties.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXV, Issue 39, 28 January 1898, Page 31

Varieties.

A military correspondent with the troops in the Af ridi country graphically describes the tactics of the tribes. They hardly ever expose themselves, except when they adopt rushing tactics on detached parties of their enemies. They never attempt to hold a place that does not afford aigood and safe retreat. They never waste ammunition. On the 28th ult '• every shot they fired went uncomfortably close to its target, and you could get no more idea of their whereabouts than the momentary glimpse of a dark turban gave you." In other words, they are first-rate guerilla warriors, and their enemies know it to their cost in lives and treasure. £13,000,000 will be the little bill for Lord Salisbury's policy on the Indian frontier AN ELEPHANT'S TKICYCLE. There is on view in the window of the Coventry Gas Fittings Company a novel tricycle built for an elephant. It will be remembered that some time ago three performing elephants visited Transfield's Circus in Coventry, and it is for the youngest of these. Trilby, that the machine is made. Mr. Sam Lockart, the well-known circus proprietor, is the owner ot Trilby, who stands about sft Bin, weighs 38cwt, and is nearly five years old. The machine was built throughout by Messrs. Attenborough and Underwood, Ltd., of Stoney Stanton road, manufacturers of the Butterfly cycle. The front driving wheel is 30in, and the back wheels 20in ; the spokes are of mild steel, and the wheels are fitted with Beeston two-inch motor car tyres. The main axle is l|in solid Bessemer steel, and the tubes from the crown to the back wheels ten guage 2in. The fork sides are steel f orgings with a latest pattern double plate crown, and there is a long plated bar from the crown, which is for Trilby's trunk, and used for steering purposes. The pedals are eccentric, and nine inches in diameter. The weight of the tricycle all on is exactly 13cwt, and it is interesting to state that with a 12st man riding a 281 b cycle, the proportion of Trilby's 38cwt to the ljcwt is nearly four to one more. The machine was taken over to Leamington on Monday for trial, and Trilby mounted it, and went round a 20ft circle at a rate of about four miles an hour. HUMOUR AMONG THE POOR. The Anglican Rev. Stewart F. L. Bernays contributes to the November Conih'dl some interesting examples of the kind of humour which the average parson occasionally meets with. The extravagant waste of money at funerals is a well-known fact, and is very common among the poor. Mr. Bernays once remonstrated with a woman, whom he had been helping all through her husband's illness, on the money she was spending over his funeral. Her answer was curious : " My 'usbanrt was allus a poor man, but I thinks to myself : My man, you shall 'aye one ride in a carriage and pair of 'osess, any'ow." So she had hired hearse, horses, plumes, and all the hideous trapping-, of woe. The compliments paid by the poor are often put in a very amusing way. One old l.uly who was Viiry fond of the rector said to Mr. Bernays : " You know, sir, us likes the rector, "is cars are so clean." Surely an odd reason for parochial affection. Another admirer once declared with regard to the whole staff of cli-rgy, "You are all so plain (a word of high commendation), but as lor tho vicar. 'c's beautiful." The greatest compliment, though at the same time the most curious Mr. Buruays ever he.v I, was paid by a working man to a certain bis'iop. fa/nous for his simple kindliness, " What I likes 'bout the bishop is Vs> not a gon"lom.ui." BUND LARKY : HOW HE WAS LOVED. Honor Molloy, when her little step-brother lay dying ard nothing could ease his pain or soothe his weary hours but blind Larry's fiddle, learnt to love the man who made sweet music in the modest cottage. Larry was blind and nearly helpless — lie was forty-five, he had no land, and to sit at the corner of the village street, and play in tho hope of copper-, was his profession. He dreamed of Honor, and when the boy died he seemed to have lost his only friend. He grew shabby and forlorn and neglected ; there was a dreary note in the tunes that he played, and there was no dancing to them any more. Then Honor came to him ; there are few or no words ; she sits beside him, and makes him take off his coat while she mends it. Neither spoke. She had wound her thread once more when a little catch in her breath broke the stillness. Larry started and stretched out his hand towards her. " What is it's troublin' ye ? " he said, with a tender tone in his voice. She laid her hand on his. Her touch flashed the message to him. " Honor ! " he cried, closing his trembling fingers over hers. " Aye, Larry." she said softly. There was a little pause while her hand still lay in his. " An' me a blind man ? " " Shure, all the more raison ye wants me." — Lewis Macnamara. THE RETORT COUTEOUS. '• Aulus," iii the Au.itrtd(ifiia)i,'ha.s a good story of the hard "hit back," which a justly exasperated Mick gave to an Orangeman. Thus :—": — " It may seem personal and severe, but the sufferer brought it on himself. He is a member of Parliament, a bookseller, and a light in the Orange lodges. To his place of business came a burly Irishman, who asked for a copy of the last week's Advocate (the Melbourne Catholic paper). '• We don't keep suah a rag here." said the indignant bookseller. '• Deed'n you might do worse," said the k Irishman quietly, as he turned away. The member seemed to ▼ realise that he had been unduly severe, so in a conciliatory tone said, " How are the potato crops looking out your way ?" '• Well, wid a nice dluop o' rain, and the blessin' o' tho Lord,'" said the grower, " we'll be havin' 'cm as big as the hump on your own back. Good morning, sor."

A CKIOKBT STOEY. The following is told by a Lancashire professional : — A match was played in a country district, and in an emergency a local farmer's boy was put in to keep the score, the duties being carefully explained to him. When the last man on the side had been caught, the fielders darted in to see the score, and they found the book blank ! That was the condition, too, of the scorer's face. " The truth is," he said deliberately, " I was sac eenterested in the wee sport that I quite forgot tae mak the crosses. But it disna matter — that wee laddie vvi the red face is the smartest runner amang ye 1 " A NOBLE SOX. A London paper tells this touching story of Professor Herkomer. His aged father who lives with him in his splendid home at Bushney used to model in clay in his early life. He has recently taken to it again, but his fear is that soon hia hands will lose their skill and his work will show the marks of imperfections. It is his own sorrow. At night he goes to his early rest, and when he has gone his talented son goes into his studio, takes up his father's feeble attempts, and makes the work as beautiful as art can make it. When the old man comes down in the morning he takes the work and looks at it and rubs his hands and says : " Ha ! I can do as well as ever I did." HE BACKED OUT. An amusing view of matrimony is that presented in a story told of two Scotsmen. A country laird at his death left his property in equal shares to his two sons, who continued to live most contentedly together for many years. At last, however, one of them said to the other : " Tarn, we're getting to be auld men ; you take a wife, and when I die you'll get my share o' the land." " Na, na, Jeems," said the other, " you're the youngest and the maist lively ; you take a wife, and when I die you'll get my share, mon." " That's always the way wi' you, Tarn," said the first brother, when there's any fash or trouble — I must take it all, you'll take naething." A MARRIAGE CUSTOM. A touching and poetical custom prevails in the Welsch-Tyrol. When a young maiden is about to be married, immediately before she steps across the threshold of her old home, on her way to the church, her mother solemnly gives her a new pocket handkerchief. The bride holds it in her hand throughout the marriage ceremony, using it to wipe aw ay her tears. So soon as the marriage festivities are ended the young wife lays the handkerchief aside in her linen closet, and there it remains as long as she lives. Nothing could induce a Tyrolese wife to use this sacred handkerchief. It may be half a century, 01 longer, before it is taken from its place to fulfil the second and last part of its mission. When the wife dic^, perhaps as a grey-haired old grandmother, the loving hands of the next-of-kin place the bridal handkerchief over the face of the dead, and it is buried with her in the grave. THE LATEST FAD. We have all heard of hospitals for invalid cats and delicate dogs, but here is the latest ph ise of fin <lc xierle sentiment : — A wealthy la'iy who possesses a pet Maltese cat found recently that the cat's eye-ijiht began to fail, so she took him to an oculist. By means of a picture of a mou-e the oculist quickly learned what was the matter and was able to fit the cut with glasses. The lenses were set in gold frames especially made, an 1 now the cat's eyesight is as good as ever. In every mile of railway there are 7ft. iin. not covered by rails, the space left for expansion. "TO JIM BYRNE." When first I met you, short and stout, You wore a velvet roundabout, Yuller and red, and filled it out, Jim Byrne. You wore, likewise, a blissful smile, The heart beneath it knew no guile ; You haven't yet forgot the style, Jim Byrne. One day to test our schoolboy grit They set us fighting, and we fit. And when 'twas over, I was " It," Jim Byrne. I loved you then, I love you now, Though forty years have tried to plough In vain some furrows on your brow, Jim Byrne. But now you're getting old, J. 8,, The leaves are turning on the tree ; May autumn treat you tenderly, Jim Byrne. And when your latest day is done, And all your deeds weighed one by one, I'm sure the sentence will not run : " Jim Byrne 1" J. J. R. in the Boston Pilot.