THE CHANGING SCENE.

Dominion, Volume 5, Issue 1474, 24 June 1912, Page 6

THE CHANGING SCENE.

A BIRD'S-EYE VIEW-

[Bt M.C.K.]

Properly to realise tlio possibilities of the anti-Reform argument you must read tho "Waimato Times." Since tho lion. T. Mackenzie visited Waimato and prcnched a sermon 111 one of the local pulpits—no, it was Air. Laurenson—well, anyway, over since 'Waimato "got religion" and politics - together tho "Waimato Times" is better than ever. You always have to go to tha country for tho puro milk of Mackenzieism, but if you want the cream . But why make speeches, liko this by way of introducing the "Waimato Times"? It is like Mr. David M'Laron introducing Mr: Bryce. Let us get out of the ■ way (we M'Larens and things) and let tho "Waimate Times" speak for itself. "Let us," it exclaimed on Saturday, Juno 15, 1912, "let us turn the hos9 of ridicule on all misguided politicians." Hero is tho hose at work:

It only 'remains to regret the allusion raado by Sir Joseph 'Ward at the Wellington rehabilitation to this loau as having been, withdrawn out of compliment to the wishes of tlio Opposition, which had been wrangling against all loans, and insisting on putting in tlie pluff.

You don't notice any difference here from tho ordinary Liberal editorial? Well— perhaps not. But I do liko "rehabilitation." Tlio rehabilitation that did not rehabilitate, What? The Baronet's great illusion, What?

The Hon. H. G. Ell, speaking at Paraparaumu, referred to Mr. Buchanan's complaint that thero were no practical farmers in the Ministry. "Much of his (Mr. Ell's) life," tho Minister .explained, "had been spent, in the country, where lie had 'served as a flcecc-picter, milked cows, and done other farm work." If this is true, then Mr. Ell is an abominable traitor to his country, which needs nothing more than genius applied to farming. Can we appeal to Mr. Ell? Can we, by recalling to him some of the features of-farm life, induce him to do his duty? We may at least try :

1 Come, Jtr. Ell, come forth and tell ! A nation where.no peace is ; Some titbits bom that wondrous store ' ■, Of genuine agricultural loro , . You garhere'd in your far-off spell ; Of picking unripe fleeces. Sir, leave the dull Pcstmastership • To one ,of milder habits. Comq out and tell us anecdotes Of how you used to shoe the goats, A Jul shear tho pigs, and crack your whip When droving Komncy rabbits.' Dome, givo relief; and end the Erief Of farmers .full of trouble! Sir, hearken to the rural groans, ! And leave .your fish and telephones, &nd give us tips,'.Buccinth and brief, ; ' On how; to stack the stubble. Sir, it's so'earthly sort of use That once yon threshed potatoes ' If all your genius must bo lost ■ In fixing up my daily poet; 1 Follow your bent, sir, and reduce The awful sum the State owes. Farming is on the downward . course. No wonder that it fares ill . When Ho to stamps ha s b.ent his mind Whom Providence had 'once designed (To breed a better Ayrshire horse, i A woollier mangel-wurzel. "I am getting a report on boy-culture as part of the social scheme of citizen-mak-ing."—Hon. Jostah Hanan. "Bill," said his father, "stand up. Bill, j you aro to reconsider your position. Very well. Bill, if you won't stand up, you must ; at least listen'.. Aro you aware that Mr. Hanan lias taken yoii in hand, and "

"I know, daddy," said Bill, "tell me about; the blue dragon."

"I am ashamed of you, Bill. Blue dragons, indeed! You will be talking about playing bears next! Bill, old chap, Mr. Hanan is thinking about boys, anil " "Tell mo about Mr. Hanan," said Billy. "Is ho" a fiiirny man ?" "He'>is not. He >is a Minister of the Crown, you sweet little —T should say, ;.he is a Minister of the Crown, my son': You aro a boy, William, but Mr? Hanan realises, and you must realise, that .you are a citizen in embryo." "Tell'me about embryo's, daddy," said Bill. ■ "No, let's play bears. I know—you be a big bear and I'll be a bear-dog." "Bill, you are a disgrace. Mr. Hanan would cry if 110 heard you. Mr. Hanan was once a-boy himself, but he did not dream'of wasting his timo in foolish pretences respecting bears or dragons. Ho knew.;.what ho was—a unit in the social 6cheme of citizen-making. When he recoived a toy, ho used to say, 'No thank you, I would rather have a copy of Haneard.'" "Poor Mr. Hanan," said Bill. "How cruel to him! And mo the story of the Elephant of China."

"Bill, my lad," his parent continued, "yoU-are young. One day you will be old. Help Mt. nanan, Bill. Co-operate with him in his fraud design, and make him happy. Submit yourself to boy-culture, tho subject, I may add, that Mr. Hana.n lias made peculiarly his own. You must respect Mr. ITaiian, my lad; lie, occupies the Chair of Boy Culture in .tho University of Invercargill. Lifo will become a groat Mid wonderful thing to you, my son. As I look at you, and realise that to Mr. Hanan's clear eyes—clearer and deeperseeing than mine c-r yours, although I do prefer yours from tho point of view of . scenery—when I look at you and realiso :how you might lit into a Hananised 6cheme of child-culture, I cannot help thinking " "What, daddy?" "That I'll teil you a story, Bill, about f. funny little man who was a Minister Dace for fivo minutes and then went " "I know, daddy. Like my old football. Now, tell live about the funny little man." "How they resemhjo themselves!" exclaimed the intelligent foreigner, "Who?" asked the Wardist. "But why this manner monosyllabic, my old? Try to bo cheerful! Ceaso to think always of the weather or Sir Bart. But perhaps it is that you have the influenza. Who resemble themselves? Sir Roosevelt"'and Sir Mackenzie. Regard. Sir Toddy :astoriish .the world entire with ' a blast of. eloquence destructive. Tho dog Sir Taft!, The thief—voleur! • Podaguc! Coquin.' Faquin! Eodaileur <!es barrieres! Coupe-gorge! Cochon! Vaurien! One thousand thunders, but it is magnificent! Then Sir Teddy adds 'I have tho heaTt unbroke, tho eyo clear, and I staud at. the first act of Armageddon-. For the Lord I fight.' They resemble themselves. Sir Mackenzie—figure you! He fights for the poor. The orphanless widow! Ho protest.his dignity—nothing of more dignified than I, Sir Mackenzie of the Thistlo Unafraid. He fights too, for the Lord. You octo .tho resemblance, my old?" "Well?" said the Wardist. "Dear mister—boy of my heart—be ihcerful! Think not of tho weather nor of the chance of Sir Bart! You say—well? Eh, well? The resemblance then stops. Sir Teddy inflame. Sir Taft says 'Liar! Prove it!' Sir Teddy rush at him. But Sir Mackenzie of the Haggis Unassailable differ a few. A young man advances to him eloquent. Sir Mackenzie withdraws his challengo. 1 not accused you,' he exclaim. 'Not of all. A fashion of speak. You'are acquit. Say no more! Shake hands. Oh, by blue,' he says, 1 must g:>. My train is departing. Good-bye!' Ho is fighting for the Lord, my old. How it is.beautiful, to fight for the Lord!" "Is it?" said tho WaTtlist. "Dear mister, do try not to dwell on the weather or the hopq of the poor Sir Bartl Be ohiloiopheri"'