Auckland Matters.

Maoriland Worker, Volume 2, Issue 74, 9 August 1912, Page 5

Auckland Matters.

"Granny" Herald.

AUCKLAND FEATHERBED UNIONS

WARD AND TRADES HALL

PROSECUTIONS AND CAMP.

A.ll is very quiet in Auckland again. Alter old Granny "Herald" working up a violent sweat, and taking a live and motherly interest in the tramwayjnen, after cooking up a lying report in regard to the levy, tihe impudent tramwaymen have actually decided not to take a bnllot after all on the question of leaving the Federation. And poor Granny is indignant—after all the burning articles and the heartfelt sympathy doled cut by her to the tyrannised trarnwaymen! Now she- becomes threatening. Says she in effect: "If the strike ain't soon settled we'll get Farmer Bill to pass a law, and it will bo a, crime to strike." And thya green old fossil thinks that the law will act! Bui) Bill Massey is not going to be too rash, like the Labor Party of Australia. He is in power to stay in power, and if Liberalism or Laborism is needwill give it to them. It is mooted in Auckland already that the Massey party are to run a new daily, as the "Herald" —poor shrieking female —is too conservative. Poor old, silly old, funny old. Granny! One of the members of the Centipede Union of Waihi got a job in the train at Ponsonby and kept his secret for a while, but having a violeiib" antipathy to tramway •unionism, the preference clause was used, and the creature turned out to look for another boss. He was a little more particular than the average crawler —he objected to his share of the night shift, so he was asked to shift himself. Which he did. I wonder how many of the scab crowd are left in Waihi? Not many, I think. The Bootmakers' Union is a fine solid union, and voted £50 to the strike fund. That's tlho spirit and the way to win, boys. I see another featherbed union is following in the footsteps of the Greymouth W.W. and the Brunner miners—that is the Manawatu Flaxmillers. As Ted Canham' says, the rotten limbs of an otherwise sound tree. A storm arises, and they break and fall and rid the tree of a useless encumbrance. They are the people who want the benefits of organisation without money or fight on their own side, and with confounded impudence take the things obtained by the militants. Good riddance, say all of us. Featherbed, pence-card, crawling unionism is not wanted in the ranks of the Federation. That wonderfully weird apparition known as the Auckland Trades Council, otherwise the Mills Unity Schemers ; alias the. United Labor Party, opened its Trades Hall the other night. And they had to borrow Sir J. Ward to show them the- correct way to negotiate a bowl of champagne. Farmer Bill was asked, but hadn't time. They do adore those in high places. Oh, what would we do without a boss? Oh, Labor! how long are we going to kowtow and lower ourselves before the idols' our own hands have made—the parasites who suck Labor's lifeblood and the politicians and fakirs who mislead and sidetrack the real workingclass movement? The people who call themselves legitimate Laborists and kowtow to the Wards and Masseys are the class-con-scious officials who, hand an hand with the employers of New Zealand, 6ought in every possible way to defeat the Waihi miners in their fight against organised scabbery, sent lying and misleading reports to our Australian comrades —in short, an impudent bureaucracy dominated and controlled by mid-dle-class employers and power-hunting politicians. But the day of following such is rapidly disappearing and the gieat toiling class are beginning to See that they can do everything better for themselves than anyone can do it for them. 1 went to the Police Court the other day to see 30 young men who had failed to attend camp tried by the beak. There were a few half-hearted excuses pit forward by some of them, but a good many of them absolutely refused to attend camp or drill and were fined £2 and costs each. I was not impressed by the freak who represented the Defence Department. He possessed a thin, pp'ng voice, a hesitating and born-tired manner, and a 30-inch chest measurement. I think a six-months'"course of settingup drill would do him a powor of good. I don't wonder that the boys take the scheme as a joke, when joke:i have to carry it out. This creature had a kind of confederate of the rank of captain, who, with his hands dug down in his pants pockets, his back up and a tasty combination of blue putties and brown boots encasing his legs, presented a weary and desolate appearance as he yawned and sighed away a couple of hours balancing his big useless body in a chair in the court. For such does this country pay thousands a year. Wake up, New Zealand! Down with militarism! Bravo, Waihi and IIetfton!—SPANWIRE.