WITHOUT PREJUDICE

Dominion, Volume 20, Issue 57, 1 December 1926, Page 10

WITHOUT PREJUDICE

NOTES AT RANDOM

(By

T.D.H.)

Mr. Lloyd George has made a million pounds for the British Liberal Party.—This may help to make up for the millions of votes he has lost it.

France and Italy are fortifying their frontiers.—lf they want a war they might finance it by selling the film rights.

Mr. Doheny’s little loan to Mr. Albert Fall in 1921 is far from being the only thing that generous California oil magnate has done to oblige the big men in American politics. In his evidence in 1924 Mr. Doheny admittedu in cross-examination that Mr. William McAdoo, formerly Secretary of the Treasury, and. a. leading candidate for • the Democratic nomination for the Presidency, was on his pay-roll. _ Mr. Thomas Gregory, who was President Wilson’s Attorney-General, was also in receipt of a Doheny retainer, as were Mr. Franklin Lane, former Secretary of the Interior; Mr. Lindley Garrison, formerly Secretary for War; and Mr. George Creel, publicity agent for the Wilson Administration, had received £lOO6 to “head off the granting of oil leases to the Republicans” when they came into power.

Nasty-minded people have suggested that the £20,000 which Mr. Doheny lent Mr. Fall on the latter’s note of hand was in return for Mr. Fall letting him get hold of some naval oil lands. Mr. Doheny has been much pained to find his friendly action thus misinterpreted. Mr. Fall, lie says, was stuck for money to develop a ranch he owned. Mr. Doheny, on hearing of his old friend’s financial tightness, in the goodness of his heart told his boy Eddie to fill up a suitcase full of dollar bills and run them over to Mr. Fall to help the ranch along. Mr. Doheny admitted that it might have been a little indiscreet to send this money along to the Secretary of the Interior in view of his negotiations with the Government, but the £20,000 in the suit-case was no more to him than twenty shillings to many people. " ■

Mr. Doheny’s friends say they are sure there was no harm in it, for Eddie Doheny is the apple of his father’s eye, and if Doheny senior had seen any harm in the little loan lie wouldn’t have had his own boy push the barrow load of dollar bills across. “Whatever Doheny might do himself,” declare these students of character, “he would rather lose his right hand than let Eddie do anything that seemed to him questionable.”

So far from being careless about the way he does things, Mr. Doheny is stated to be unusually particular. He has a fine home at Chester Place, in the heart of Los Amgeles, and when he bought it he desired to be sure of really nice people as neighbours. So particular was be on the point that he bought up the forty neighbouring mansions, and only persons approved by him now live in the area. His yacht, the Casiaua, is one of the finest craft of its kind afloat. It is 287 feet long, and has a crew of thirty-eight officers and men to run it. Among the various conservatories on his Chester Place property Mr. Doheny has a pahn-house 230 feet long and 77 feet wide, with what is claimed to be the finest collection of palms in the world. Another huge glass house is devoted entirely to orchids, and there are swimming baths built to outrival the famous baths of Rome.

•It is said that Mr. Doheny’s weakness has been a mania for power. Says one Washington authority: “He hires ex-Cabinet officers for the sense of power that it gives him to have exSecretaries of the Treasury, ex-Secre-taries of the Interior and ex-Attorneys-General w’orking for him. He tosses about the Government of Mexico, setting up one President and pulling down another. He blocks the recognition of Mexico and has it recognised when he chooses, or at least he flatters himself that he does. He loans money to a foreign Government like one of those medieval banker-princes. He makes war on Great Britain in Ireland. He juggles a Mexican Republic in one hand and the Irish Republic in . the other. If you cross him in the slightest matter/ he becomes apoplectic with rage.”

It is very difficult to be strictlv consistent, arid it seems to be .harder than usual in Auckland. A correspondent of the “Herald” there observes : "Auckland is a great place, but a queer place. If you were to pav a visit to a certain brewery you would find employees indulging in ‘morning tea.’* And if you paid a visit to the splendid offices of the Auckland Power Board von would find them heated with a coke heater, vendors of electricitv who discard their own product in favour of a- competitor’s. . . And mv last observation is, the Mayor and councillors of Takapnna were touring the Royal Show visitors wund in Yellow Buses, while they- had a prosecution out against them for running.” . . But the brewery employees who took morning tea may, of course, have had just as good reasons for doing so as the restaurant proprietor had for going out to lunch.

The Bachelor: “How we change as we grow older!” The Divorcee: “Yes, d'you know, I used'to marry men I wouldn’t invite to dinner now!”

A correspondent, “D.L.J.,” sends the verses below, which he says he has had on hand for twelve years, but doesn't know who was the author. Despite their libellous character, readers may find them of interest: —

THE WAIL OF THE UNVENTILATED I want to be back in Wellington, I want to be back in the wind; I hate these stagnant cities where all

the dust is binned; I want to be holding my hat on at the corner of Lambton Quay, And if it’s holding my nose on, so much the better for me. Take me back to Island Bay, . Where the gentle zephyrs play, And the washerwomen tumble down tire hills on washing day. Take me back!

Give me some air in motion—l tire of an endless calm, Give me a blast froni the ocean, yelling a furious Psalm; I like a lively, hustling, liberal atmosphere, Of the kind I get in Wellington, of the kind I never get here. Take me back to Brooklyn height, Where a man can sleep at night, If he’s got a' cyclone'cellar and he’s sure it’s anchored tight. Take me Lack!

I want to be back in Wellington, I want to be back in " the breeze, That thrills with the oc-jur of ozone, that leaps with the salt of the seas. Squall, or gale, tornado, hurricane, or typhoon—- \\ ellington deals in all sorts and I want to go back soon. Take me back where Kelburn reels, Where a man can breathe his meals, And the girls come round the corner like a clothes-bag full of squeals. Take me back!