THE LOAFER IN THE STREET.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2197, 11 March 1881, Page 2

THE LOAFER IN THE STREET.

In a telegram arriving here from Auckland, dated February 12th, the following extraordinary sentence occurs :—"ln consequence of the Government refnsing the repeated requests made by the North Auckland Cattle Board’s engineer for the removal of the restrictions against driving cattle from the Northern to the Southern districts, <to.” This is very curious. What kind of machinery do they use for driving in those parts to require the services of an engineer P I know, of course, that engineers drive engines, but I never heard before of their services being called into requisition for the purpose of cattle driving. Truly, as Hamlet observes, 11 There are more games in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy.” A short time since a bank manager in this—or perhaps I had better say a big New Zealand town —received a telegram from a confrere of his in another province to this effect. “Is Frothy good enough for an advance of live hundred—Security.” The manager, who was not long here, and knew not Frothy, sent the telegram to a business friend, who knew the ways of the place, with a confidential memorandum asking his advice. In five minutes the telegram came back franked pretty much as follows;—"Not a blooming cent on any security whatever.” So Frothy never got his advance. It’s Ichabod with Frothy I fear. The times are changed, Frothy, and even bank managers change with them. Cicero made that remark you know many years ago, when speaking one of his best pieces. Lodgings, even when you have a good landlady, have their disadvantages. I have ascertained this fact from personal experience : not that lam saying a word against mine. I trust I have been better introduced to myself than to commit such a blunder as that. But I am reminded of the fact by a little circumstance which happened to a friend of mine within the last few days. He was staying with a widow—is still, in fact—and during a three months' stay had the dissipated young dog actually, with the occasional assistance of self and other friends, got through ' three bottles of whiskey. The empty bottles were left in some corner of the house. It happened that his landlady had occasion to change her quarters, and the bottles were left behind. Her reverend pastor calling the day after they left spotted the bottles, and seeing they were empty formed hie own conclusions. The landlady’s daughter calling on him the following day, he told the girl that it was no wonder her mother never got on, as she drank. The girl denied that her mother ever touched anything of the spirituous kind, but the reverend pastor rose up the three whiskey bottles against the orphan, and the girl was naturally much distressed at such information coming from a source she naturally deemed as reliable. This was the unfortunate result of our drinking three bottles of whiskey, but I cannot refrain from saying that the part taken by the pastor seems a very unceual manner of visiting the fatherless and widows in their affliction. I can only hope he does not in his daily visits to his parishioners rush to such speedy conclusions as to the habits of his dock, and describe the sins of tho parents to their dutiful progeny. Some kind friend has sent me the third annual report of the Minister of Education. It’s not quite the sort of publication one would delve much at for amusement, but from one table I was perusing I should say the system of examinations for standards needs a little reorganising. In the table I refer to, No. 6, page 5, I find that in the Wellington province there are 5633 regular attendants. Of these, 66 passed standard VI. In Otago, there are 17,784 regular attendants, of whom 137 passed ; while in Canterbury, out of 15,230, only 17 passed. The system of examination pursued must be very different in the Otago and Wellington provinces to that in Canterbury, or else the “ regular attendants ” must be a precious sight smarter. I’m not expressing any opinion as to whether our children get it put on too hot here or there too light ; but the thing seems uneven, don’t it P I have heard that sometimes here they are in too much of a hurry to run the youngsters through, which may or may not be a fact. Assuming it to be so, it’s rough on the maestro when they don’t pass, because then his highly educated committee who don’t know the difference between a school Standard and a picnic banner come skipping around and want a change of instructors for their festive progeny. I know all about it, bless you. But this education business is, as I have told you 100 times, quite overdone. On the ground of economy it is. We can’t afford so much style, and if you write an article predicting this there will be a row in the House over this business and you will got your name up as a good prophet. Apropos of schoolmasters, I don’t think I mentioned the fact before, but I know of one case where the dominie was very popular with his committee, but he had one fault—he wasn’t married. They couldn’t afford to pay extra for a mistress, so they informed him that the holidays were close on, and if he couldn’t supply a schoolmistress by the time school commenced they would, however unwillingly, have to present . him with the proverbial BAG. Previous to this he had not thought much of matrimony, except as one of the necessary evils a man encounters in this world of trouble ; but he started off, mot a nice young lady who knew about education and fancy work, married her and came back to school to find a new chimney in his bouse, and meet the approval of his senate. It turned up trumps, and he is to the best; of my belief still the man in his district “ Of whom the wonder grew, That one small head could carry all ho knew.” These Melbourne Exhibition prize-lists, appearing as they do at intervals by telegram, are rather confusing. However, having seen some of the lists in the Melbourne journals, I am glad to bo able to inform you that iu the class for general woodmaking machinery the Germans had it all their own way, the let prize being divided between Messrs R. Hartman and Sachsisohe Stickmasohinewerrfabreck (late Voight.) Seems a pity Stick what-do-you-oall-em didn’t stick to Voight. The printers would have found it more convenient. I have read with some amusement and a good deal of respect an article in tho columns of your evening contemporary the “ Globe,” on the subject of the opposition raised to opening the reading and reference rooms at the Library on Sundays. I agree entirely with the writer. Wo moet of us remember the fight there was over tho opening of the Museum on Sundays, but the result of that conflict has not, so far as I can judge, added to the annals of crime. The opponents of the course proposed by some of the College Board of Governors evidently seem to consider that the wedge which made its first entry when the Museum was opened is being driven in a bit deeper, and cry aloud and rend their clothes, hyperbolical'.y speaking, accordingly. Cut bono ? as his Honor says when any legal dignitary mates some silly remark. 'Would it bo so very wicked to allow a class of people who have no hooks of their own, and who I feel sure would be only too glad to avail themselves of the opportunity to have a quiet road on a Sunday in place where they can suit their tastes in a literary way. This need not disturb their church-going habits. The artizan can still, like Longfellow’s “Village Blacksmith ” :

“ Qo on Sunday to the Church, And ait amongst hia boys ; He can hear the parson pray and preach, Can hear his daughter’s voice Singing in the parish choir, And his heart (under the circumstances) can still rejoice.” But there are times on a Sunday when a man is not in church and not eating. When, perchance, his sins are summed up by and-byo, it may not be reckoned a heavier crime that he read an interesting book instead of snoring

like a hog all the afternoon, a custom most affected by the respectable section of this community, many of whom have got book* to read. There are men who find in book* old friends who never look askance at them whatever may be their troubles, however lonely their position, and who have no other chance of having a few pleasant hours in the company of their friends, who are ever the same. There are others who, from being out unavoidably pretty late shopping on the Saturday night (not to mention the very numerous class who havo to wait on them),, who are either not up on Sunday in time for church, or, to put it quite plainly, don’t go very often there. The missis don’t want them at home at that hour. She has hot, dinner to cook and her boys to hunt off in good form to church. Naturally the man goes out, and its 6 to 4 he goes for a beer, in fact for two or throe. I. don’t mean that all this class would rush the reading-room, because they wouldn’t, but the thing is worth a trial. The opponents close their memorial with asentence which reminds one of a lady’s postscript, viz., “ that the carrying out of this proposal will be prejudicial to the interests of those now employed as attendants at the Library.” This argument was used when theMuseum question was on, and though of course there is something in it, I should like to know whether all the servants of all those who will sign the petition havo all their Sabbaths to themselves. Do their Betsy 0 ancs invariably have their Sundays out as a regular thing, because you know the Tenth Commandant is pretty clear on that point, while I think wo should have to hunt the Good Book pretty closely to find anything against reading, even in a public place, on a Sunday, which, by the way, we are informed was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.