THE CHANGING SCENE.

Dominion, Volume 5, Issue 1419, 20 April 1912, Page 6

THE CHANGING SCENE.

A BIRD'S-EYE VIEWt

[By M.O.K.]

"My old," eiolaimod the intelligent; foreignor, "I you assuro I have needed; just you. I say to me, 'Who can toll mo but my old friend the Wardist?' Say, then—what it is that is'this liberal policy. Aristido declare to mo that Sir Bart took it away in his bag. It annoy me—l am like Labour, in a state of no restfulness." "Well, the Opposition only won their Beats by a campaign of calumny. If you only know half the slanders " "But, by blue, that is infamous. What dogs! Of course, they were prosecute? The, gaols are filled with them? No? What divino charity, what forgiveness! But the policy. It is necessary—something of policy. Sir Mackenzie, what he say at Stratford?" "I told you. Ho exposed the Tile campaign of scurrility and lies. Look here, Hippolyto, if you only know—well!" "Which I desiro. Sacred blue, make me know. Tell me of Sir Rickety's speech at Whakarongatoro. He must have said something—a few, perhaps—but, my old, bless it all, ho must say something." "Don't I (ell you that he said the Opposition resorted to foul .tactics ? The Government " '"But the policy, my old?' Tie land? Beer questions? Sir Uncle Colville—has he not spoken? Or Sir Ranjitsinhji? Or JosiahHambone? Those terriblo names —I cannot get them all right. But what is a name, as Henry Irving puts it? nothing. Give me policies, never mind the names. Thero aro ten Ministers, is it not? And Payne—oh, I forgot not him, nor the Isitt. What say Sir Myer at Porangahereherc ?" "Well, considering that the Opposition bought with poisoned weapons " "My old," said the intelligent foreigner .wearily, "of course. Nothing of more sure:;: But what a policy.! No change at all. Sir Bart, ho hits, the wood blocks, pop! Bourn!—but .his spirit, survive. I see,. I imagine. Sir Mackenzie is on a place, where is no room .'to move. A step in any direction—and the, abyss! Bump, and the ambulance. The policy of stockstill!'. But a little breeze may-blow— oh, i from'.any .'direction!. And' pouf! finis."';;.',''',''.;:..','. ;'.:'".:'",■"..:. '.:..' The :' Roman Catholic Archbishop .of Adelaid&(Dr. O'Reilly) has stated that if he bet..on.!h6rse-races ho. would lose, his money.;'/-But' if ho had the gift of prophecy, he. said, which he had not, and could know what horse would win the next Melbourne Cup, he would have no hesitation and no pang of. conscience in backing that horse "for' a handsome amount. .We've all' wept for the man with. ten ...'...' thousand per ann. Who might revel existence away, But whose limited. senses restriot • his expenses To less than ten Shillings a day.

And we pilty the Judge who's unable to .'. budge ~•'..■ From his' solemn .and dignified air, Though he aches' for tho joys of a-night • : with the boys Or flvo minutes of devil-may-care. To the clergyman, too, tiheTo is sympathy i.-S due Who, on topping an excellent 'Hie," Would be glad'-to emit the expressions V that fit, -But who can't think of mora than "Oh, ■■'~ my!" 'And a matter for. frenzy is Thomas Mac- •,' kenzie, That' Scotsman of devil and dash Who doesn't dare stir half an inch any.'■V where, Bince. movoment would simply mean smash. ' ' '.■■'' Wo all.weep at and hate such perverse- , .* ness' of Fate, " '.But perversest of all at the bottom Is to bo an Archbishop quite willing to bet "But completely,.unable'to spot 'em. Tho oddest thing about' the strike of prisoners in Lyttelton was the alarm of the authorities, and their unconcealed anxiety to end the trouble. It is obvious that we have a long way to go before tho epirit of Emancipation has thoroughly penetrated, our social institutions. In the brutal past—that past when men had to earn .their wages—when agreements were considered bindingj when crime was regarded..as crime—in-.the brutal past there wcro no prisoners' strikes. But a Tay of light was shed upon tho darkness of the prisoner's outlook by Sir John Findlay. Prisoners, ho led us all to understand, ' wero invalids; and who can be surprised that the poor, fellows who learned", that they were merely tho victims of acute attacks,of.burglariousness have at last realised that tlioy are men? Amongst th,e;l>est democrats there is keen sympathy with the strikers, and several of tho unions are said to be contemplating "going, out" until the grievances of their corrtrndos in tho gaol are redressed. It is considered to be an encouraging sign that that strike weapon is being more and nldro widely understood and used; but opinion is. divided,.in local labour circles, as.'to whether, the prisoners should register 'as a union.';- "What, after nil," said one' representative union leader when interviewed, "what, after all, is a gaol? Merely a hateful barrier of brick and atone devised by the capitalistic classes to split tho ranks of labour. Wo do not recognise such Mammonisticbarriers. Wo are'with our comrades to a man. The strike sanctifies everything. Their quar-rel-is ours. Let Capital wait until our Unity League gets going." On the gangway of the Maori Sir Joseph Ward said:."l am.very happy. . . There are"'a'few people here who arc so lost to all sense of dignity and decency that they won't allow a public man to live in his residence in peace. I would advise Ministers in the future not to live in Ministerial residences, because of tho conduct of a few—it is only a few, because the great bulk of tho people are abovo such contemptible conduct. lam in good heart nnd spirit, and, so far as my side is concerned, I am going away without ill-will towards anybody." He is off, and his heart, he explains, Is transcciidentl.v gay: It is purged of the pangs and the pains Of an earlior day: He is wrapped in goodwill aa warm clothing, 'And, save nice things, ho wants to say nothing Excepting, of oourse, that the skunks are still objects of loathing Who drovo him away. He is bathed in a. tender emotion: His spirit o'orflows: His love is aa wide aa the ocean: His outlooks brigb.t rose: Ho has nothing but kind thrnfs to utter, He is drenching na all in nice bntter, But he must bo allowed, being he, to continuo to. splutter Away at his foes. We loved htm, and now we aitmrro Wml What a Soul ho reveals 1 Does It hurt that his triendß had to fir* him? Js it sadness ho feels? Tfot a whit! Calm! Olympic, unwonled. He smiles, and in accents unflurrled Aids grace to his going by solemnly giving eome torrid And terrible souealsl For Chronic Chest Complaint*, Woods' Great Pepp«naiiU gg^ $•_