LYNX’S LETTER.

Motueka Star, Volume V, Issue 318, 6 September 1904, Page 4

LYNX’S LETTER.

‘And let me the canakin clmfe, clink; And let me the canakin clink ; . A soldier’s a man, s And life’s but a spau, . Why, then, let a soldier drink.” Othello 11. iii. Lynx was not a guest at the Mounted Rifles’ Dinner last Wednesday, but was hired by the hour to help with the pots, pans, and dishes. While the toasting festivities were in progress he kept his eye glued to the door crack in the hope of a stray bottle of Watson’s. Special’ falling unnoticed under the table. But no such luck. Had there been champagne there, there might perhaps have been a chance of a few bottles disappearing mysteriously ; but, as it was, everything was kept strictly above board. All that Lynx could lay hands on to take home to his expectant wife was a leg or two of poultry. The most striking thing about the banquet, however, was the speechmaking. No one could take exception to the appetites of the gallant warriors, nor vet to their sentiments ; which,- as far as Lynx could gather from his door crack, were admirably loyal and patriotic But the words with which they clothed them were few and far betweem. The two Big Guns (the 4.7’s so to speak) led off pretty well, and when they had once got. the range made several hits. But the shooting of the small arms that followed was'desultory and ill-aim-ed ; the last rifle especially hanging fire for several seconds. None of those flashes which “were wont to set the table in a roar,” none of those light sallies of wit which one might reasonably expect after the flowing cup had been given time to set in motion “The feast of reason and the flow of soul.”

Lynx does not for a moment mean to say that our military friends put up* a worse performance in this respect than any other section of the community would have done ; s\y, for example, our Borough Councils or our School Committees. In fact the civilians who spoke at Wednesday’s dinner where not a whit better than the men in khaki. He wishes rather to draw attention in a general way to the difficulty that most of us experience when we have to say a few words in public. Speaking then becomes “a painful necessity.” Nearly anybody can take up a pen and wield it with tolerable ease; bub when we have to face an audience, it seems different somehow. Most of us have to say like the man in the play : “I am no orator as Brutus is,

I only speak straight on.” Some of us indeed never get to speak-ing-straight-on stage ; but remain all our years in the hum-haw condition. For this state of things our educational system is, doubtless, largely at fault. While great care is paid in our schools to written composition there is no teaching whatever (so far as Lynx knows) of the art of oral expression. Now to most of us the one is pretty well as important as the other. time when the general cry is for a more practical education it certainly is an anomalous state of things that out of a hundred children that have passed through the State schools there are not more than half-a-dozen, probahty, who could get up and give a fluent expre:» sion to their thoughts, even on the simplest subjects. Lynx suggests to our local dominies the institution of school debating societies or some other mt-ai.s of teaching the young idea how to .•■peak. It may then fall to the happ} T lot of some of us to sit on the platform in exultant pride, while our sons sway with facile tongue some huge audience gathered in the Motueka I Town-hall that is to be. et -*-

Lynx heard the other evening an animated discussion in a local bar as to the relative amount of slaughter in ancient and in modern battles. As his opinion was not asked, he took no part in the argument though he had no doubt as to which party was in the right. The conversation arose out of a receipt telegram stating that the Japanese casualtiess up to date in the neighbourhood of Port Arthur numbered about 7,000. Compare this with one or two statistics taken at random from history. We are told that when the Roman general Titus captured Jerusalem in 70 a.j>. more than a million Jews perished during the 1 34 days of th»jsiege. At Cannae in 216 a.d. wherfHannibal defeated the Romans, no less itban 87,000 of the latter were killed in a day, “a number in all probability twice as great as the combined losses of Russia and Japan after months of fighting. Even in the comparatively small battle of Towton fought in England during' the Wars of the Roses, each side lost 20,000 men. And almost any number of instances might be taken from the chronicles of older times to show that the number of the slain in-"battle was generally much greater ‘han in our recent wars. It is true that modern science has greatly increased the range and destructive power of military weapons; but we must remember that in old days the combatants fought in serried masses and at close quarters ; instead of bombarding a fort or a kopje at a distance of a mile or two without so much as catching a glimpse of an enemy.

Simple Simon writes a long letter to Lynx complaining of a roguish trick played upon him at the shop where they sell the Reports of the Busybody Association. He went to buy a report and paid his sixpence for it in hard cash. . his surprise and indignation wften he got home to find in- • stead of the expected “rustic cackle of the burg” a prosy tract on the Future State of Man, not at all to his liking. He threatens to punch the vendor next time he comes to the village. Lynx however advises peaceful measures. He feels sure that the mistake was done by accident and not by design. At any rate the tract would do Simple Simon no harm. Lynx has read it several times and has been greatly cheered and helped by it.

The football match tomorrow Trades v. Allcomers, promises to excite a good deal of interest. Lynx has been shown the following song, which he understands has oeen set to music and will be sung by Mr G. Frangois prior to the game, to the accompaniment of the String Band :

Up, up, ye gallant prentice boys, and gird you for the fray ; ' Base is the knave that goes not forth to do his best today. Strike up the stirring drum and fife ; make all a joyful noise, While out they go, to meet the foe, our gallant prentice bo^s. See where around, the fair ones stand, your brave deeds to acclaim,

From Brooklyn’s sunny slopes they come, from Moutere’s barren plain; E’en Ngatimoti hockey team forsake their hill sides steep, To watch you play the game to day—their hockey match will keep.

See swarthy Mac, the Huia’s crack, all eager for the fight, But he and all his team, I ween, will bite the dust ere night. Then rally round the flag hoys, brave Walter’s at your head, And as of. old your sires were bold T so let.it now be said, That none can beat the prentice boys in battle or in sport, ! The lads that use both brain and thews, I the'right Old English sort.