QUEER SIDE OF THINGS.

Hauraki Plains Gazette, Volume XXXIV, Issue 4530, 21 February 1923, Page 4

QUEER SIDE OF THINGS.

CURIOSITY AND MARRIAGE. (By “Septimus.”) Men generally contend that women alone are curious. That is not my belief. I have, in fact, come ac’ross men whose sole object in life is to pry into the affairs of others. With them curiosity is a science. They don’t ask any direct questions, because, you know, that would be rude. They believe in indirect action. I met a man of this type the other day, not more than a thousand miles' flro'n Paeroa. ‘‘Good day,” says he, familiar like. “Good day,” says I. “Warm day,” says he. “I.t is,” I replied. “Warmer than many parts of New Zealand,” he continued, with a swift upward glance to ascertain if I was as soft as I looked. “I suppose so,” I answered, guardedly. “Of course,” he went on, “if you don’t, belong to New Zealand you wouldn’t know. And besides,” he .added, “you are a stranger here and haven’t had time to notice things.” (I remained silent.) “Da you remember that hot day w e had bn New Year’s Eve ?” he asked. “Can't say I particularly noticed it,” I replied. “Oh, well, perhaps you weren’t in Paeroa then,” he said, with a note of interrogation in his. voice. ‘‘lt has been curious weather all over the Dominion,” I replied. So the conversation continued for twenty minutes or sb, and still my social friend vainly sought for information as to how long I had been in the district.. Ultimately’ he was convinced that I was a fool, incapable of, understanding the drift of bis highly intellectual conversation, and he changed the subject. “Do you think,” he asked, “that they’ll put the bachelor tax through this session ?” “Hope so,” I replied. And then, seeing he had given me ah opening, I pressed bn. “It’s a downright shame,” I continued, “that all these bachelors should be knocking about the country while there are married men in our midst who cannot afford more than two trips to Hikutaia a week. Think of their children, who, because their fathers can only make occasional journeys to Hiccuptaia, are not' brought up with a sufficient | supply of hop-laden atmosphere. And why is this ? Why—because of the single men, who waste their sweetness on the desert air ; spend their easilyearned money recklessly; fail to recognise their.duty to the State. Would I tax them ? No —.‘not on your life’ I’d imprison them. Make them work to support the children of those poble, patriotic heroes who would never for one moment have thought oi£ marriage if the duty to their country hadn’t been so deeply engraved in the back of their brains.” (Any .handbook on phrenology will tell you ,wihere the bumps are.) I paused for breath. “Ah !” murmured my friend, “I am glad to bear you are married. Others don’t seem to understand, but you—.” He stopped for a moment, and un consciously I glanced at the knees of his trousers (bagged by Sunday’s, 'scrubbing) ; at his right elbow (bagged at Hiccuptaia) ; and at his flace (etched with a map showing years of devotion to duty). His curiosity was momentarily dead. thinking deeply, and in my mind there atose the picture of a man who does not fear the bachelor tax, and who, though : he may use bachelor'buttons and occasionally have to wrestle with a holey sock, knows' how to mind his own business. We parted at the cross-roads, my curious friend l and I, and as 1 watched his retreating figure some words of Walt Mason’s passed through my mind ; “When we’re hale and full of vigor, 'feeling very much alive, it is hard for us to figure on the ills that may arrive.” Still, de- ! spite all the philosophy ever written, ' I’ll pay the tax—my contribution of I duty to the State.