THE CHANGING SCENE.

Dominion, Volume 4, Issue 1073, 11 March 1911, Page 6

THE CHANGING SCENE.

A BIRD'S-EYE YIEW. .(By H.C.K.). Quite a stir was caused last week by the news that the Australian Labour Party's manifesto on the referenda lad been lost through tho carelessness of a typiste. It seemed very remarkable that the Party should havo been so careless,' and still uioro remarkable that tho typiste did not at once perceivo that tho manuscript was tlio kcystono or tho palladium, or-*-anyway, tho thing that stood between Australia and ruin. And so for some days I was thinking of tho chances that attend tho progress of our civilisation—of "what mighty contests rise from trivial things," of Newton's dog Diamond. And now comes tho news that tho epoch-making document lias been found. But there is room for further thinking. What a blessing it is that in this country no serious consequenco would follow tho loss of tho Government's policy. It has been lost already?'' Very well then; let mo say: What a'blessing it is that 110 serious consequenco would follow tho loss of tlio manuscript of Dr. Findlay's or Sir Joseph Ward's speeches. For tho learned doctor gets liis speeches by heart (they aro complaining on tho steamer that lio gets up at 3 a.m. and rehearses them to tho liightwatchman or janitor or whatever the man.is); and as for Sir Joseph his liead is. simply full of interlocking sentences about. tho Empire arid tho people as a whole: 110 has only to open the valve, as it were, and a speech issues from his lips without effort and almost without his being aware, of; it. 'Again, what a blessing it is that' if the draft of one of the Government's Bills were lost nobody would ■need ,to worry. "Where the deuce is that Bill?" Sir Joseph would mutter at the Cabinet meeting. "Dunno," everybody, would say. "Jimmy lit his pipe with something just now," some"body would say. "It's too bad, Jim," Sir Joseph would complain; "now we'll have to write another, and I don't know what it was we proposed. Does anyone-remember?" .. "Dunno," everybody would say. (Perhaps Dr. Findlay would say, "I am not cognisant of the propositions therein promulgated." Anyway, Mr. Buddo would say "Dunno." iVory well, then.) "Then I think," Sir Joseph would say, "I think Jim had better draft another. A Bill about land, Jim." What a blessing is this I

Some excitement was caused by. tho appearance of two society women dressed in harem skirts among the audience at the Opera House in Vienna. The audience shouted: '.'Our women shall not wear trousers!"— Cable item. The battle cries, that crystallise The aims of various ages, Ttie maxima terse that caused tho 6tlrs That redden History's pages Let others praise: to mo the. phrase Resounding from Vienna; .'Twill.strike 0, chord'profound, my word! Wherever, simple ■< men arc. ."One man ona vote"—the man who'll doto On claptrap such :as that isGives me a' pain: within hie brain A well-developel rat is.' And who is stirred by that absurd . Incitement: "Down with Vetos"? His heart would bound to hear the sonud Of unemployed mosquitoes. The Suffragette may fray and fret An Asquith's nerves to tatters: She never moves plain simple coves, She's not a .thing that matters.. ''For Empire"—Do I thrill? Do you? . Can "Brotherhood" bo bracing? And, honest, can "The Rights of. ifan" Set normal pulses racing? • 1.. I grieve to think of. all tho ink • Historians have expended .Upon .these phrases that they praise As strong, inspiring, splendid. They have no thrill for me: I feel Within my bones that' each is ■ Jlere empty gas, as icllo as. Let's say. Sir Joseph's speeches. . But Man's all right; my heart is light, For,.dearest 6ir or madam,' . ',' Through all this' darkness.,eiines a spark— . The old authentic Adam! . v . In fearful crises he will rise: Still sound, tho hearts of men are :— They will not let the trouserette •Bo.heard in old Vienna. That man. shall fall is, after all, A pessimistic, rumour; •' Jfot yet degenerate are the men Who'll.rise against tho bloomer. Not. lost to grace can bo a race Of men who dare bo wowsers, lAnd, hearts aflame, can still proclaitn, ."Our, women SHAN'T wear trousers."

A . youth named Nutherji threw a, bomb at a motor-car containing Mr. Cowley, a public works engineer. Mr. Cowley escaped by cleverly catohing the bomb-Cal-cutta cable item.

"Trying to tho nerves? Not a bit," said Mr. Cowley. "But it's trying to one's temper to have to dodge tho little game of these chaps in this beastly hot weather Now, for example, there's a chap who looks like—excuse me," and with a sudden movement he whipped out a small thick disc of steel and applied it to his right eye. At tho same instant there was a loud report and a sharp clink, and Mr. Cowley, brushing the fragments of lead from the disc, lit a cigarette. "What was it?" I asked. "That chap fired at me. I've often wondered what would'happen," ho added reflectively, as ho returned tho disc to his pocket, "if I left that little vestpocket shield at home. What was I saying? Oh, yes, in this hot weather it's an infernal nuisance to have to keep in practice. And theso chaps are so dashed versatile—somo fresh dodge every day. Sometimes—duck!" ho shouted. I flung myself down, but something knocked my hat off. Scrambling to my feet, I found Mr. Cowley examining what looked like a pound of butter wrapped in paper. "As I thought," he said, opening tho package. "Whatever is it?" I asked. "Dynamite. That is the third time this' chap has tried it on. , Poor Smith was killed that way yesterday. He ' was clever enough, but tho chap who did the trick was one of tho Hindus sent back from South Africa, and it appears ho had watched Schwarz and got tho liang of the googlio. And the googlio was new-to-Smith.' But tell me tho news— we never have any excitement, nothing ever happens iu this Lord-forsaken land."

"Life, Jawn," said Mr. Dooloy, "is full iv disappointments, an' this is a bitther blow. Joo didn't say it at all. 'Twas a falso alarrm. 'Twas a crool practical joke. Thers ought t' be a law agen it."

"What's up?" asked Mr. Henncssy. "The Eov'rin L. M. Isitt says at th' Con'frinoo iv Methodists, 'Shamo on yc,' he says, 't' say wo wuz diddled. If ye only knew th' Primeer, yo wudn't Bay things like that. He's a Galahad,' lie savs, 'a Quixote, a hayro with th' liear-rt iv a child. Ho met us an' he says, "AVell, lads, I promised yo th' fifty-five per cent, major'ty, an' though I know I'll bo licked, I'll stick t' mo promise."' Well, Jawn, whin I read that I kicked mesilf. All th' time I'd been thinkin' Joe wuz just Joe, I saw, ho had been a Quixote in disguise. Just f'r th' snko iv. a promiso lightly made

he wuz willin' t' walk out iv office, givin' up his sal'ry t' Bill Massey, which is not a small thing, an' givin' Bill a chanst-1' hunt through th' recorrds, which wuz notliiu' shorrt iv heroic. Hogan says Joe know th' Pro'bitianists" w-ud say they ciidn't endure that turr'blo sacrifice. Ho know they wud tell Joo that such .a..liayro shud not be exposed t' that per'l. In fac', says Hogan, Joo wuz Muffin'. 'Hogan,' I says, 'yo liavo no soul. Aro yo incapable iv '.a single noble thought? Y'aro a muck-raker. It nuis' bo awful t' bo you, Hogan. T' suspec' Joo iv bluflin'; why, yo wud suspec' a baby iv bigamy; yo wud harbour suspicions iv a daffodil. Shame on ye,. Hogan,' I says. Well, Jawn, I sco now that 'twuz all a falso alarrm. Th' cup wuz dashed fr'm me lips. 'The dhream,' as th' poto Bracken says, 'is shatthrcd,' says ho. F'r the rev'rin' gentleman has explained that Joo didn't say he'd stand or. fall bo his promise. He said ho wud bo willin', perrhaps, ondher certain circumstances, t' endeavour, or otherwise, if possible, th' major'ty bein' what it wuz, an' in view iv all th' fac's. accordin'ly, an' he cudn't say fairer thin that. It's things like this that mako mo sour. Yo might say I owe Misther Isitt a debt f'r givin' mo <1 glimpse iv th' onearthly glory that might be, but isn't. But that's more thin outweighed be th' painful thud whin I fell an' sthruck th' solid fac' that Joo is th' samo old Joe, an' always will be."