IF IT HAPPENS?

Dominion, Volume 5, Issue 1437, 11 May 1912, Page 11

IF IT HAPPENS?

A PHANTASY OF THE FUTURE. [By L.R] I laid down the paper with a feeling of utmost honor, and then, to mako sure that I had made no mistake, took it up, and read the matter over again. Thero was no mistake. In black and white letters the information stared mo coldly in the. face.•■' The octopus of unionism had laid its tentacles upon ono of the few God-givon joys left lo mankind, and was tiying to fetter, with the iron clamps of regulations, that which must, if it is to exist at all, be freo as the air itself, efnsie was its latest victim! indignantly I sat back in my chair »nd scowled at • the canaries in their cage on the sunny verandah, all cf them nearly bursting their little throats with the intensity of song. Tlio next thing that -would happen, I thought disconsolately, would bo that a union would be formed to regulate theib singing. Rvo minutes par day only would he their limit; otherwise they might interfere with tho sale of gramaphones. It was coining, surely ooming, 1 could swear,to it. Only tho other day I had had an ultimatum sent in iron) tho Federated "Workers' Union, demanding the dismissal of my treasured housekeeper, who had boon with toy wife, and mo ever since we came to this'curiously surprising country. The Swaggers'. Union demandod it,_ because ehe had been so unsympathetic to the swagger who'had refused-.to work in return for food and clothing , ; : tho Stock-ing-Darning "Union because she had mended all the holes in Bobby's stockings inetead of tho regulation number permitted; tho Housekeeping Initiates' Union demanded it because she had dismissed an awful girl for stealing a silver enuff box, which had belonged to Lord Nelson. Really people nowadays were, becoming far too discriminating in some matters. Only in some, however. Naturnlty, I refused, and was boycotted for eoino time. Musing over what the world would be like in the next/ fifteen years, I gradually became aware of a curious, dreamy fooling stealing over mo. I could not lift my head nor my hand. A mist seemed to rise and roll over the landscape in front of my window, blotting out all familiar landmarks. At the samo time I seemed; to be whirling through tho air: as a disv embodied soul might be whirled. On and on and on I went, through writhing ehadow-forms that now and again moved asido and gave one fleeting glimpse of trees or houses, or mountain ranges, and then, once again, they were blotted out from sii;ht, and nothing was about me but ft grey phantom world, with not a sound to break the ghostly silence. Speechless, paralysed, the sport of forces totally unknown, I could do nothing but wait for the end. ' Gradually the mist began to clear, the ewift flight through tho air to slacken, and, all at once, I found myself in a city the like of which I have never before seen, ivna hope I never will see again. It was a nightmare of monotony. Grey, eunieea ' etreete it had, bordered with grey houses side by side and all , totally alike, with about lour yards of garden in the front of each house. Not a thing distinguished one from another. No beauty of architecture or colour,: no beauty of flowers or shrubberies was to bb seen anywhere, not even a hill to lift one's 6oul above the abomination of sameness. Even the people in the etreets matched their honses entirely, all wearing the 6ame expression of repression and lack of' individuality, all walking as though there were no incentive to energy. They might have been automata. True, I did not see any signs of poverty, but., neither did I see--'the eigns of a eticcess that was worth fighting for, of effort and strennons toil crowned with fulfilment , and the honour of others. What was it that was wrong' with the place? What was tho secret of this lifelessness, this staguation, this decay? As I pondered over the mystery I was etartled by hearing a piping voice at my "Well, what do you think of it nil ?" it asked. ' . Hurriedly lookin j to;' find , the Fpeakor, I eivrr before'-'mo 'the' quaintest ''little person that could possibly bo imagined. iVery. small he was, with the face of a gnome, in which ehone the wisest, most

whimsical eyes I have ever Been. In the little peaked cap he wore on his head was fastened an hour glass, and, in hia girdle, was stuck a tiny 6cythe. "Gracious, you're surely not Father Time himself?" said I, in an awe-stricken whisper. The gnome lauglied, his face crinkling np till there seemed to lie nothing visible but raouth, ears, and cap. "Oh, dear no! I'm merely one of his harvesters, who attend to all the cranky notions that run riot on.,the earth for a few contnrie3 or so. Dull work it is sometimes," he ended with a sigh, looking wistfully over tho city. "What does this mean, then?" I asked, following his gaze. "This, my dear fellow, is • the dTeam of all the unionists of the earth crystallised into actual fact. Ifs only looking ahead a few years, and you will probably eee it in your time." I tottered with horror, and turned eo pale that ho became alarmed, and injected into my wrist, in n. second, Bomo delightfully reviving thing. "Really, you must control yourself, he muttered, eyeing me with scorn. You mortals are so weak in courage." To divert his attention from my deficiencies, I hurriedly asked the gnome tc take me round the city, _ "I shall have to inaKe you invisible Brst." With that' he took his scythe and sheared off a lock of my hair. "Now you will be invisible," he oaid. "You see, they would not allow a nonpnionist to visit their city if they knew. "Take me to sea tho art gallery first, will you?" Tasked my guide. A chuckle of iiitensest amusement burst from him. "Como this way. then. Ho led mo to a square building of the ..me size as the otfiers. I "tared. This for tho art treasures of a nation, and fifty years ahead at that! Ne'vet never, will I forget that mom«t It is seared upon my mind in .U *tow of fire If the civilisation of a nation is to bo iud'edby its ■<«*» then alas for the «a ofcivilisation that my gnome told me *Sn|' my distress,the gnome «• plained to me pityingly that the hours of artists in this city were st™tly regttloted. No matter what Heaven-sent inipiration seized them, they had to stop when the hour struck. Some artiste had been driven out of their minds by auch tyranny, but they could not alter it. Sours of experiment and study had been curtailed, in nddition to the quantity o{ paint which artists used. v^tr I tried to imagine tho spirit of boautr nnd truth remaining under such conditions. There had even been a Bcale of Tinvracnt draiVfi up. , „ P ' s Art Li dead! dead I dead!" sorrowfully chanted my gnome, and I thought that it wis well that such was tho caao. As soon I I had sufficiently recovered, I asked my gtide to take mo to tho libraries of the "fryon are looking for trouble," ho warned mo, "but como along. You might aa well see what is in the future. Wβ entered another building, no larger tto thTono wo had left. It to bo filled with works upon Socialism, Wohisnvthe "Rights of Man," Trade PntoiSr Sedition, ptc. but nowhew

were thero to bo seen the great books that have as their themo the brotherhood that runs through all humanity, that taught of heroism and self-sacrifice, of patriotism, and of the duty of every workman, of every class of society, to bo worthy of his hire. Beauty and that knowledgo of hidden things which old Mother Nature 13 so fond of hiding behind fold after fold of mystery had long ago folded their wings and fled tho place. "Show me your concert-halls, I asked my littlo friend. He opened his eyes wide, and gasped. "They do not exist." "What?" "They killed music long ago/' he said sorrowfully. "Thero were musicians once who gave "their services for sheer love oi the thing, but tho unions camo forward and they gave if up. Then for a while the bad musician was paid just Ihe same as the good one, and who could stand that? No recognition, no critical apprt,ciation, of their artistry greuted tho true musician, and so ho faded away. Alas, this is indeed a 'City of Dreadful Night. Not oven the birds sing, tor they have been brought under a- union. All we have is tho music of grjunaphones, with records of singers and players of many, many years ago." "Is everything run by unionists in this city?" I asked despairingly. Everything I Even ,the I holes in that girl's stockings who lust passed us. If cavities suddenly bloom forth in the night, as apparently they did, she may only dnrn four, otherwise the Union, of Stocking-Menders is down upon her. Dressmakers, tailors, hatters, etc., work for very few hours, and people simply have to wait. They can't go elsewhere. Fashion, too, is dead!' "Are there any inventors or scientists, or any particularly successful people living here?" I asked. "Well, tho inventors; the scientists, and the particularly inspired artiste- and musicians have had to ba deported, as they simply could not be quelled. As for success, or wealth, or power, there was no incentive to any one of them. The incompetent person received the same reward for his labour as the competent, so why should anyone bother. You see, it is an age in which the great aim of life is to get everything for nothing." 1 "For pity's sake, help mo to shed all these years that I've unlawfully gained, I burst forth in an agony of (tread. 'If this is going to be the future, I shall take good care I'm not there. These men, these women, paralyse me. Is it all inevitable?" ' , Solemnly the gnome smiled, while tne wisdom of all tho ages seemed to lie centred in his eyes. "You see, it's this way. Humanity cannot apparently go on its way straightly. It has to take sudden curves, and jumps, and even retrogrado steps that seem to throw it back years and years, lather Time's storehouse is simply full of such records, and this wave of Socialism and Trades Unions; and all the rest of it, is simply one of those phases. It will pass."Thank heaven!" I exclaimed. In the sudden joy of tho moment, however, I had not noticed that I was standing close to the edge of an opening in tho cround, that apparently reached to the centre of the earth. So at least it seemed, for over it I went, and, once again, I was whirling through the air, but, this time, in dreadful darkness. Would I never reach the end? All at onco I seemed to crash into the very foundations of the world. There was a sound as though mountains wore falling also, and I awoke to find myself lying on the floor of my

study, while near me was tho sofa, an overturned table-, and the fragments of a very choice china bowl over two hundred years old. "Thank goodness, Iye come back to 1912," I ejaculated, with -levout thankfulness. Very severely .indeed did my wife glance from me to the tuin on tho floor. "I don't know which was the worse evil, your snoring or the broken bowl," she 6aid coldly.