ENTRE NOVS

Free Lance, Volume I, Issue 4, 28 July 1900, Page 10

ENTRE NOVS

THE indignation of Mr James Mills, Manager of the Union Steamship Company, has been stirred by the statements of the Honourables Messis Seddon and Ward in the House concerning the scarcity of coal. The Premier said it was due to the fact that there were not sufficient vessels to carry the coal away from the producing ports, while the Colonial Secretary also stated that the scarcity of coal was the result of a combination between the coal proprietors and the shipping companies, and that the real difficulty was the carriage of coal from Westport. Mr Mills, in the Otago Daily Times, declares that these statements are quite unwarranted. " Notwithstanding that we have unfortunately lost a useful vessel, the Kakapo, on her voyage out from Home," he says, " and that we have within the last few days lost the Taupo also, we have ample tonnage at our command to keep the mines for which we carry, both at Westport and Greymouth, going. As a matter of fact, there has not been throughout the last six months one day's delay, through want of tonnage, at Westport, from which our principal supplies are drawn. Further, without lessening the facilities of others, we have been able to spare one of our colliers to the Blackball Coal Company, a concern for which we do not carry under contract." # * * So far, by way of refutation. Then Mr Mills gets an effective shot into -the Government by way of reprisal. " The Union Company," he says, "has done exceedingly well in keeping pace with the developments of the various trades for which it caters, and in this respect it compares very favourably with the Government's great carrying department, the railway, which has been notoriously short of plant for two or three years past, whereby great loss and inconvenience have been entailed upon those who are unfortunately dependent upon the railway for the conveyance of their goods." So far, the honours of the controversy appear to be with Mr -Mills.

Here is a Card advertised recently in La Gaceta, a Mexican newspaper : — Will the gentleman who embraced my wife at the entrance of the Post Office about nine o'clock on Thursday evening please send me his photograph for my 'Album of Heroes ? " He will greatly oblige. — J.I.

The Mangaweka Mail is angry with the special commissioner of the Wellington Railway League for having described the centre of the bush universe as a township "with a population of about 300 souls." The Mail says "his visit here was a very brief one, and his estimate is less than one-third of the population. We oould almost give that number of male adults."

Those unlucky T's again. This time it is the Taupo. It is well-known that there are many people who systematically avoid travelling by any Union boat whose name commences with a T. Of course there is nothing in it but mere superstition, but it is astonishing how powerful is a superstition when once it gets a firm hold.

What a farce it is that business should be disturbed by such an institution as Arbor Day. There is another new bank holiday which does nobody any good, but on the contrary, causes serious inconvenience. The bank clerks themselves don't care for these single day holidays, and we would venture to say that there are not five of them in Wellington who take any practical interest in tree-plant-ing. Verily we are going holiday mad in New Zealand. The Chamber of Commerce have protested against these constantly recurring bank holidays, but protests coming from such bodies are apparently considered by the Government as an impertinence. • # * Another boarding-house story. Last spring, the boarders noted the absence of salads and greens from their table, and in consequence attached the following note in a prominent place. Not The Dear Little Shamrock. There are dear little plants that grow in this land Nice and tasty, and now right in season, Which, when placed on the table, are much in demand. They're good for the blood, that's the reason. We eat too much meat, the colonials worst curse, Especially when summer is coming. Let's hope we'll get salads, they'll not hurt the purse, We're in earnest, don't think we are funning. Needless to say, their wants were attended to next day at lunch. • * # The struggle for a crust. An unusually large number of applications have been received by Ministers for employment at the Buildings this season, the majority signifying their willingness to accept anything at all. There is quite a shoal of out-of-workers now in Wellington — belonging to all parts of the colony — but it is pointed out that a great many of them could obtain employment in their own districts had they remained at home. Some, in fact, have left good billets, attracted by the glamour ot city life— a case of discarding the bone for the shadow. One ambitious young man from the far South, who had relatives partially dependent upon him, tried hard to strike work and wealth here, but his fond hopes were unrealised, and, when he got down to his last shilling, managed to get a billet at a local restaurant.

The breakdown of the Liberal party outside the Trocadero after the Poultry Society's supper on Friday night was less the fault of the cab than the liberal avoirdupois of its occupants. Their collective weight, and there were only six of them, headed by the bulky member for the Suburbs, must have been close upon 100 stone. The exclamation of one jocular member of the party, " What ho, she bumps," was peculiarly apt.

The story of a recent marriage jomes from a certain country town. It was a painfully sudden affair, but at any rate the lady appears to have consented to make life less like a howling wilderness for the man of her choice, and the little ceremony came off. The bridegroom gave the parson a cheque for his fee, and when the worthy cleric smilingly handed it in at the bank next day it was dishonoured.

Dear Lance, — A lady school-teacher recently asked her class of small boys what there would be when peace was declared. One bright youth promptly called out excitedly, "Please, miss, a holiday I" — Yours, etc., Of Bo." • • • " Wet" Wragge's salary is only JE3OO a year. Not much for keeping all Australia posted up in coming storms. • • • Competition in the Life Insurance business appears to be unusually brisk in Wellington district just now, and there is an abnormal number of-can-vassers on the road for the various offices. Some of them, however, are not making the amount of their weekly washing bill, and one voluble individual complained t'other day that he hadn't taken a life for three weeks. Reminds writer ot the representative of a certain society who travelled round with a doctor. Funds were low, and they had got & gentle reminder irom the office. A bright idea struck the representative. " Let's insure that tree." " What tree ?" " That big tree over there. We can call him John Tree, and take his life." Bo the pair sat down and filled in the torni : "John Tree, aged 32," and so on. That " life" made their credit good for another fortnight. * # • The religious maiden isn't always the angel she appears to be. A prim Wanganui damsel of taking ways has just had the luck to get out of an unpleasant fix. She was the most religious girl her mistress had ever engaged, but the way in which she sandwiched her conversation with pious observations and rushed off to Christian Endeavour meetings on " evenings out" aroused suspicion. This was confirmed one night — when the mistress observed her in the street with one of her own dresses on. There was, naturally, a charming kitchen row, culminating in the girl being told to take away her belongings. As the box appeared to be much heavier than wheu it arrived, the fair abigail was ordered to open it, when a choice assortment of lingerie was displayed marked with the mistress' initials. .But she took no proceedings, merely dumping the box on to the footpath, and shoving the girl out after it. • * • Tempus fills in most of his time in a bank. When he is fortunate enough to get loose now he tries various means of getting exercise. Before taking to a bike he tried a horse, but his previous experience in that line was limited. When Tempus hinted his intention of securing a horse, a gentleman connected with a livery stable, who carried the odour of hay not newly mown, waited on him with " the very thing." Tempus led his purchase home, bought a new saddle and Oridle, and began to rehearse horse talk, as " wey beauty," " gee up, horse," " gently pony," and other endearing terms tor use when communing with his pet, but to his surprise there seemed to be no reciprocity in the nag. Tempus lived by himself in a cottage — bachelorised — and had a decent section to run the horse when it got tired of its stall or wanted iresh air, as its owner said. • # • On getting inside the gate, which he very caretully padlocked for fear his acquisition should undo the screw and lift the latch which usually fastened it, he proceeded to put on the new saddle and bridle, the latter carefully inside out, and was preparing to mount — of course on the wrong side — when the steed, from sheer cussedness or resenting such unusual behaviour, gave a swerving lurch which shot its owner neatly over the saddle, and left him reclining in a very undignified manner. Perceiving the advantage thus gained, it then cavorted merrily all round the section, beautifully graining the new saddle by the aid of the surrounding hedges, and playfully kicked up its heels when its owner essayed to catch it. • • • The gentleman with hay perfumery was again requisitioned before the capture was etlected, and some kind of a bargain was struck by which the horse, saddle, and bridle, even after so brief an ownership, changed hands. The bike, first referred to, proved less refractory, and Tempus, having mastered all the intricacies of riding it, hankers not after horseflesh now.

When a man's luck is out it is generally very much out. A southern visitor to the Wellington races unaccountably lost a £5 note before he started, and it couldn't be found. Driving to the station the cab horses bolted, so that he got there in plenty of time, but not without risk. He lost on every race until the sixth, and then discovered he had lost his winning ticket. To cap all, he lost his hat when crossing the pipe bridge, and, when this final calamity happened, the observations he made about Wellington and its surroundings were extremely rude, to say the least of them.

There are so many Irishmen engaged in the war that a few bulls were bound to crop out in letters from the front. One occurred in the postscript to a letter written by a corporal in the " Dublins." He had written it before an engagement in which he w.is mortally wounded ; and with his dying breath asked a comrade to post it for him. Before doing so his chum thoughtfully added. " P.S. (later) I am killed." But even the English at the War Office can beat the above, for a sergeant's wife recently received an official letter saying her husband was killed, with a postscript to say that he was not !

Last week was one of mild dissipation in the Empire City, a large number of visitors from various centres co-mingling business with pleasure. There were racing folk for the Hutt meeting ; witnesses subpee ned to appear before Parliamentary committees, and delegates to the Racing, Trotting, Municipal, and Licensed Victuallers' Conferences. They all appeared to enjoy themselves with a big enjoyment, and it only needed a sensational earthquake and a big fire or two to round off their week's pleasure. * * # One of those übiquitous, always importunate, mostly unfortunate, fellows who have as a matter of duty a hankering for the many gates of the " biggest wooden building in the world " about the decline of each month, has informed one of his friends that the reason he wears a pugaree on his hat in the summer and a black band in the winter is not for adornment or mourning, but when he isn't one of the escapes from Governmental toil he has to collect debts and, owing to capillary exudations, his title wants a certain amount of disguise, not to say an air of respectability. His sketch for appearances is nearly level with those he " ghosts." * * # The loss of the s.s. Taupo reminds the Lance of the bad luck which has attended the steamers of the U.S.S. Co. beginning with T. When in this colony, in '97, Henry Lawson (the Australian poet) wrote a poem entitled " The Ports of the Open Sea," in which a verse makes reference to " the Fatal T," as follows :— South by the black Bluff faring, North where the Three Kings wait, South-east through the tempest, daring Their flight through the storm-tossed strait ; But away from the grey fog, leeward — From the graves of the " Fatal T" — "Where the black-ribbed reefs run seaward, By the Ports of the Open Sea. * # • Belated that during a certain recent severe engagement an Irish private was espied by his captain in the act of beating a hasty retreat. The man had been a favourite with his superior officer, and when the latter approached him on the subject the following day, it was in a spirit more of sorrow than of anger. " I must confess. Pat," he said, " that your action in the engagement yesterday surprised me." " An' what's the rayson of that sorr ? " " Reason enough, Pat. Didn't you promise me you'd be in the thickest of the fight, and didn't I catch you actually running away, you rascal ? " " Running away, is it ? 'Dade, captain, but ye desave yourself. It was in remembrance of my promise, sorr, that Oi was runnin' around troyin' to foind out just where the foight was the thickest."

There is a certain Wellington commercial traveller who lives up Newtown way, and has a reputation as a humourist. He rather fancies himself as a joker, and the other day, the car being full and there being a new conductor of rather guileless appearance, the commercial traveller thought he'd make a butt of him for the amusement of Ins fellow passengers. " This tram go all the way to Newtown ?" he asked, in a loud pompous style. " Yes, sir," answered the conductor. " Well, I want to get out at the Riddiford-street corner : can you remember ?" " Think so, sir," said the quiet conductor. " Think so, what's the good of thinking ?" bawled out the commercial traveller ; " look here, my son, you mustn't think, you must be sure ; you'd better stick a stamp on your nose, or put a straw in your mouth, or tie a knot in your lip, so that you won't forget it," and he looked round for the expected grins of the passengers. The conductor was, however, not in the least taken aback. "It wouldn't be convenient to do any of the things you ask, but (sharply) you just pin your ears round your neck, and I'll remember you all right." The commercial got out in a hurry at Sussex Square, and was seen rushing into the Caledonian for a reviver. What's more, he's not telling the yarn at the Warehousemen's Club.

If you are a lawyer, don't be too ready to show your familiarity with ways that are dark. In an up-country court the other day a barrister got a shock-headed Scotch drover into the box, and began to press him as to the methods of his calling. " Have you never lost any sheep on the road," was one of the questions. " No," answered Sandy, proud to be able to say so. " And have you never got to your station with more sheep than you started with*? " " Never." " Then I'm afraid you're not a good drover." "And I," returned the drover, " fear that you haven't kept good company." The laugh was with the Scot.

Very romantic story that of the meinbir of the Johannesburg commando in laager at Glencoe who proved to be a young woman. When the husband of this plucky young vrouw was commandeered for service at the front, she attired herself in male clothes, went to the Field Cornet, and requested him to commandeer her. This was done, and she proceeded to the front as a propeily equipped burgher. She fought bravely in the trenches at Spion Kop. It was not until some time had elapsed that her sex was discovered, and she was then at once sent to her home. On her way thither she made a speech to the people assembled on the station platform, exhorting the burghers to persevere in the struggle, and explaining that she preferred fighting for her country to lying ill at home. * « #

The Jest of Woman's Love. And so, because of arrogance in man, The gods, in very weariness, Enchained him in a bondage Forged from woman's love ! So soft, so very soft, the bonds, That man, in soulless ignorance, Reviewed the punisninent As offerings of pleasure, And thanked his gods With seriousness And bending of the knee : Whereat the gods, Who had not bargained thusly, Were overcome with laughter. Wellington, 1900. J. Barr. • # * The subject of " Hobbies " would make a very interesting article. A Thorndon man has a passion for collecting knives, and one of his rooms contains a choice array of cutlery, both cheap and costly. There is a profusion of fancy miniature bladed articles in the collection, as well as butchers' and bread knives and daggers. Anything new in the shape of a cutter he immediately snaps up. A peculiar craze ; but a man ought to have a hobby of some sort, if its only climbing trees.

Fielding Star suggests that all District Coroners may be made Inspectors of Totalisators, and says that these officials would then be able to combine business with pleasure. There are so many " deaduns " on the " tote " that a District Coroner is specially fitted for the task of totahsator inspection. # # * Curious extract from a local chemist's ad. : — Ask for Bolus's mixtures, particularly his Headache Powders, Skin and Eye Ointment and " Nervous Mivture (the result of long indulgence in beer and spirits.)" Evidently a cure for incipient jim-]ams, but whose long indulgence ?

Say there is no innocence about the colonial maiden after this. A Masterton mother, on the night of a recent concert, observed a young man who could only be described as a casual acquaintance, in the act of kissing sher daughter at the front gate. Of course, she took the girl severely to task, telling her that it was immodest and wrong to let any young man kiss her until she was engaged to him. ♦* Wrong ?" ejaculated the maiden in unfeigned astonishment, " why Jack says all the girls let him." Now, they call him Privileged Jack up Masterton way. » • • •• Alice, Where Art Thou," is a bit too popular up Mount Victoria way. It almost takes the cake from " Soldiers of the Queen" and other overburdened airs. The atmosphere is laden up there with music of a description, but an ambitious tootler tried it on too much in the locality recently. After rendering and rendering poor "Alice" in the neighbourhood for a brief period, he solicited the usual small remuneration from a buxom dame whose husband had chosen her principally on account of her sweet name — he used to whistle the sublime tune when she wasn't up to tune with collars, and socks, and little things of that kind — and the unfortunate instrumentalist had such an experience that he won't try that ditty in the same neighbourhood again, that is, with a view to any pecuniary reward. • • * Another greenhorn story told with gusto by a Wellington stock and station agent. The other day there strolled into the agent's office a young new chum who had come out from home with his pockets well lined, and had secured his little bit of ground up country, which he now required to stock. His enquiry related to the price of sheep. " Oh," answered the broker, " two-tooth lambs are such and such a price, and four-tooth so and so." The chappie sucked the end of his walking stick and ruminated. '" Ah — well — don't-yer-know, it won't quite run to four-tooth just now : what's your quotation for three-tooth ? " And he wondered why all the farmers' boys went off doubled up with laughter. * # 4 * Poor Mr Henpeck again In a Christchurch court last week, a suitor acknowledged that his house was practically " run " by his wife and her two nieces. Their male friends looked in nearly every night, and piano-banging and general jollification were kept up till the small hours, against the wishes of the poor weakminded creature, the alleged head of the house. To be sure he had remonstrated with his wife, but she had sat upon him with the statement that "they were in society now, and must put up with these things ! " ;|: :|; # The other day a gentleman on his way home from business came up with a smiling Ching-fu, and, being curious to find out the opinion of the local Chinamen on the recent outrages committed by their countrymen at Pekiu, asked, " Wdl, John, what you think about Chinaman in Pekiu ?" John, with that look of childlike innocence peculiar to Ins race, replied by another question, " What you think ?" The gentleman, reckoning he would be too smart for John, replied, "Oh, I don't know." " Alice saiuee me," said John, and trotted off with his basket, whilst the European realised that the Celestial was " not so green as he was cabbage looking." # # * The following amusing anecdote about a certain Minister of the Crown is vouched for by an eye - witness. The honourable gentleman is in the habit during the session of staying at a lodging within easy distance of the House. One night a party of ladies and gentlemen were returning irorn a ball to the said lodgings, where thej were for the time staying. On arriving at the House they discovered that their latch-key had been mislaid. Not wishing to disturb the slumbers of the occupants, one of the party endeavoured to open a window with his pocket knife, when a solemn voice from within asked, in measured tones, " Are you a burglar ? " On being convinced that this was not the case the owner of the voice, who turned out to be the aforesaid honourable gentleman, opened the door, and in solemn, if somewhat unsteady, tones read the party a lecture on the evils of dissipation. Ihe ladies felt rather apprehensive of the inevitable meeting at breakfast next morning, but when the hour arrived it was found that his Honourable Nibbs had no recollection of the occurrence.