THE GRUMBLER.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 151, 26 June 1907, Page 6

THE GRUMBLER.

(By RANGATIRA.) I. What a brute he is! No, my friend, not a brute, only a sorry object; so withhold your judgment Tne grumbler is so iuU of his own sharp-edged dissatisfaction, that he finds an intense and piquant relief in venting his own discomfort upon the luckless and generally unoffending mates housed on that corner of life's raft upon which he has chanced to take passage. Grumblers divide into three classes—the grumbler proper, the man who is so by nature, an<_ whose bent is iault-finding, and his one and only amusement; the man who loves to call a waiter and find fault with his fish, the quality of the mint in his pea soup, even the flaw in his wine glass, who keeps his tailor on the extreme verge of lunacy .over the height of his waistcoat and the hang of his coat, and keeps bis cook on tenterhooks, sending away a chef's achievement every other day and ordering bread and cheese. Poor, miserable, lirnp-digestioned soul. " Better that his boots were hanged about his neck, and that he was drowned in a keg of his club's whisky than that he should abuse the unoffending." This man has a liver like a cast wheel —so hard, one can catch hold of it under his ribs. He cannot enjoy his pipe Of a morning, and in his heart curses the world for a fool. ,

This inherent grumbler may be left to his growl—he loves it—it is his dissipation, his life's obi.?ct. the subject of much thought and careful consideration. Who knows? He may be mean tc grumble! "Shall little haughty ignorance pronounce ? "

The second grumbler is the person who has not what he wants, and thinks he ought to have what is his neighbour's. In reality, he is a good fellow, the right sort at heart; but. because of his immediate disappointment with the cards fortune has dealt him, he fires out on those who. like him most, and go far afield to please him, the spite and rage he owes to

Madame Fortune. The strange and contradictious part of his grumbling is that it is directed at the people he likes Wst, and against little things. The smell of his neighbour's smoke, the weather, dirty trams, his bootlace, and the chilblain on his ear, are objects of vituperation; while he stands up to the blows dealt him by disaster with clenched fist- While his ready tongue "rubs it in," his tender conscience is making him feel that he is worthy of the company of devils—his nerves are standing out like a porcupine's ynills all over him. He is an invalid.

The third grumbler is (from which kind fate deliver us) the She grumbler. Of the grumbling woman, be she old or young, there can be little said, because, as Eve found some time ago, one must bear the consequences of one's own Mupidity, or alter matters if the stupidity is the fault of other people. U cn-.en have so many things to grumble over, that it is" bad economy to waste energy on so foolish a pastime, when worthier foes await their weapons.

It is depressing to find old people who grumble. Age seems meant for peace of mind and mellow satisfaction, a port of smooth content after the storms of youth and middle age. Surely old age should know enough to turn philosopher. The grumbler is of certain age, either he has waded on the margin of the Dead Sea, and tried to quench his thirst in its waters oi brine, or he has entered his name for swimming competitions there,on; in other words, he is generally anything from thirty to forty-five. The grumbler is the best-hated of people, he is tiresome, aud he is not plucky, and he ■will not own up to his delinquencies. Assuredly he was not bred up on the Philosophies, and he is audacious only in his disregard of good manners, for he will even find fault with one's oldest wines and choicest cigar, but will probably lend one a ten pound note with pleasure. You wiseacres and parsons, and such of you as may have the care of the young human animal, cultivate in him an ability to laugh in the right place. Anybody can laugh when the joke is against somebody else, but it is of inestimable advantage to laugh when it is against oneself. Ah, we are a funny people, we laugh at the tragedies, weep at ihe humours, shriek at the pinpricks, and grin and bear sledge hammer blows without a duck of the head. Has any inquiring mind ever discovered the mental adjustment of the grumbler? Does the true, inherent grumbler, as he comes downstairs of a morning, his very footfalls waging war with the stair carpet, does he call up his forces for the fray before opening the breakiast-room door, and does he carefully reconnoitre the position as he sits down, masking his batteries and taking careful aim? Or does he use a machine gun to save trouble? Apparently he merely winds a handle, and each shot tells.

Now, the grumbler bred in misfortune's cradle is of entirely different calibre. After gashing his chin with his razor, aad mislaying his necktie, and enlarging the buttonhole of his collar, he reaches swearing point, b u t, on descending the stairs, gallantly pulls himself up. firmly resolved to be decently nice. With a si"h of thanksgiving he notes that coffee and cutlets are excellent, the toast burnt, which he eyes sadly but silently. His paper speaks of dropping shares and calls, his letters of unwise business deals and milliners' bills. Still serenity continues outwardly, though he is conscious of a sinister jerking in his mental apparatus. Breakfast over, he turns to the fire and the Leader column, finds a cigarette, and, conscious of a spare ten minutes, strikes a match and—burns his finders. The room is full of leaping fiery flames in a moment, equanimity is gone, and his family too. Oh, sorry, luckless object! Happy the simple worm, who, half strangled and torn by unkind fate, can sit by his fire and say: 'T am content in sprite of what might have been." So Ion" as he plays the game, and lets not his slow content eat the roots of like achievements, pluck and the right demand of him. he will not grow fat and die. When "Time hath eaten out the letters, and the dust makes a parenthesis betwixt every syllable," his marks will be. probably, as indelible as those of the cTumbler who stalks ambition with fault-finding tongue. The idle thinking of an idle man leads one to the belief that grumbling is economically foolish, for it 'wastes energy, also it is slightly cowaidl#,»also it is selfish, for the sum of the |fru_abler's joy is unequal with the sum of discomfort he makes for other people. The tmimbler does not make reformations, for often he is intentionally deceived for the =ake of peace. The person who reforms is he who, on finding weak spots. co forciblr goes to work to rectify that reformation of necessity takes place. - _ Merry heart goes all the day, your sad tires in a . Tlie grumbler calls himself a cynic, j£s guMie fiaUs iisi .w_*"ss_a>g less _or

lite. The only affection given him unalloyed with regrets i 3 that of his do°*, which loves the foot that spurns it. The grumbler has a but for everythiacr fee uses it iv his speech, and in his contact with facts; evidently he is hard h°aded