SELECTIONS.

Cromwell Argus, Volume VI, Issue 299, 4 August 1875, Page 7

SELECTIONS.

* “leaping up We have lately come across in some Home paper an article on the subject “ Keeping up Appearances.” Though the caption of the article remains with sufficient distinctness in our memory, we must admit that its exact scope and direction do not. But so far as the subject itself gees, we are sure that “Keeping up Appearances ” must be a matter of tolerable local importance in Wellington. The curse of having to make an outward appearance when penury reigns within, is nowhere felt more than, in this city. And the worst of it is, that those who feel this state of things most are amongst the last to acknowledge its existence. It is not on what are called the “working classes” that this evil presses heaviest. It is on those who, earning incomes in many cases less, and in few little above, those of “ working-men,’ have yet to keep up a somewhat costly appearance, that the misery of doing so falls. And yet the so-called demands of society, the unalterable laws of a social code, established on a false basis, yet implicitly obeyed, are so stringent and are so respected, that those who suffer most by their existence carry their suffering hid under their garb of show, as the Spartan boy carried the biting fox beneath his cloak. The state of things we are bringing, under notice may be beat apprehended by the putting of a case supposititous only in name and identity, but only too read as regards its similitude to hundreds in existence. We will suppose Mr X. then, a clerk in an office, Government or otherwise, on a salary of some one hundred and fifty or two hundred pounds a-year. Captivated by the quivering curls of Miss Y, Mr X made her Mrs X some ten years ago, when a couple of pounds a week, in addition to unlimited love, seemed more than sufficient for a most comfortable existence. With confidence in these resources the couple‘started on their way through life, and bid defiance to the dramatic axiom which says that Cupid and cold mutton do not go well together. Bearing in mind one of the earliest commands to our first parents, the Xs have increased and multiplied, and Mr X should be happy—he “ ha*h his quiver full of them.” But whether love has flown out of the window or not, life is now a burden to the Xs from having to keep up appearances. If the head of the family be merely in a merchant’s office or a bank, he has still his appearances to maintain. His wife cannot go out without clothes at least as good as those of other ladies of her acquaintance, and must even at home wear something in which, under the prescribed rules, she can receive friends. The children cannot go to a more Government school, and so the talents •of the younger ones lie fallow whilst those of/ the eldest boy and girl are being cultivated.l Mr X must have a well-cut suit in which to gol to his office, and, as he cannot afford cabs, this same suit is a perfect torment in dirty weather. The young ones have to be kept a cut above those of the bootmaker’s and the greengrocer’s, who play with happiness in the gutter, and derive health from the manufacture of mud pies. These things are all necessary to existence, and yet there are other tilings as necessary. House rent is at a fabulous rate. Butchers’ meat is high, and bread is sufficiently dear. The res a.ugusta domi , and the keeping up of appearances abroad, take most of what is sweet in life out of th e existence of the Xs. And if misfortune, and a sense of the highly respectable, have made Mr X a clerk in a public office, affairs are still worse. Even if his ideas should be limited, the chances are ten to one that those of Sirs X are not, and that she considers herself a not unimportant unit in that pyramid of agglomerated atoms of rank, of which some oim or another is the head, and an infinite number of little great people form the base. At concert or at theatre L the best places, opera cloaks and dress coats, are indispensable, and the going supperless to bed is a sacrifice to the keeping up of appearances. A cheaper part of the house, and a good meal, with a glass of beer, would be an offence against the rules of society that would entail its own punishment. Appearances of a more elevated character than those required in the case of the bank or merchant’s clerk are required out of doors in the present instance, and in doors, inconsequence, a more difficult strife is apparent. The results of this state of affairs are obvious. It is not a combat with the world, it is a combat with all that is false, —with everything that is a sham in the world. As a result, the business and practical part of the world declines to. assist the combatant, and too often the Insolvent Court comes to his relief. This is the last penalty for having “ kept up appearances.”— N. Z. Times. o A Scotch pedlar, without the remotest intention on his part of getting into a quarrel or fight with any man, had put up (with his pack) for the night at a country ale-house, on the borders of Wales, where, as the Fates would have it, he found in the kitchen of the inn a motley assemblage of not the most desirable companions, and, among the rest, a Welshman, whose a ; m from the very first seemed to he to get into hot water with poor Sawney. The latter, sagaciously appreciating the true character of his tormentor, and determined to get rid of him in the quietest way possible, told him that he “ did not want to fight.” This but excited to a still higher pitch the bravado of the Welshman, and he told the Scotchman that he would ‘ make him fight.” “ Well,” said Sawney, "if 1 must fight, let me say my prayers before I fight,”—which the Welshman conceding, the Scotchman fell upon his knees and implored his Maker to pardon him for “ the twa men he had already killed, and for the one who was about to dee.” The Scotchman rose slowly from his knees, but not before the Welshman had mode a precipitate retreat.