Enter Nous

Free Lance, Volume I, Issue 15, 13 October 1900, Page 10

Enter Nous

THE man who advocated Kelburne Park as a site for the Victoria College knew his park at all events. -Once the " top " is taken off the Kelburne Park, the people of Wellington will wake up and see what a magnificent place the is. The view is superb, and were the place properly laid out and planted, and a band pavilion erected, it is the ideal place for open-air promenade concerts. It is easily reached, much more -easily than people imagine, from both Thorndon and Te Aro. People from Te Aro have only to tackle the short "pull" up Woolcombe-street, from the top of Ghuznee street, and five minutes' walk along the level Salamanca-road 'brings them to the park. Laid out as a public garden, with some good statuary, just as you see in the Sydney Botanical Gardens, Kelburne Park would be the favourite resort of Wellingtonians whose pockets are so slenderly furnished that -they cannot afford to " take the kids " to Day's Bay or the Hutt. The Botanical •Gardens are close at hand, and next year the Kelburne tram will take us up for a T>enny. Whether the Park is used as -a site for the Victoria College or not. it ought to be completed by the City Conn--cil. It is one of the finest situated public parks in the colonies. Go up and see for yourself. * • • The City Council are surely not going to wait until they have got their big Streets Improvement scheme through before they start patching up the bad places on Lambton-quay. The pavement, for instance, in front of the Bank of New .Zealand is full of holes. Its present state is a perfect disgrace to the Capital City of the colony. * • • Thousands of people were out along the -Oriental Bay front last Sunday, and overflowed from the narrow pavement on to the roadway. It was impossible for them -to do otherwise, yet the "scorchers" never moderated their pace, and several •children had a narrow escape from serious injury. The " bicycle bounder " is always -a pest, but on Sundays, especially " round the Bay," he has become a dangerous nuisance. And yet never a "man in blue " is to be seen. The police authorities should please take note. » « * Trooper Bould, of our first contingent, arrived back just in time to be with his grandmother during her last moments. He was her favoured grandson, and although he was tired from his journey -down from Wellington, he sat all night by the old lady's bedside. A cab was ■waiting for him at the wharf when the Takapuna arrived, and the Defence Department allowed him to go straight out to Johnson ville. The invalid was in "-the Wellington (white) Guards, and Johnsonville has been en fete ever since •" Charley came inarching home again, hurrah ! " * * » That perennial pest, the smooth-spoken •canvasser who wants " Your aid, don't you know, for this very excellent cause," has recently so preyed upon the mind and purse of a Carterton shopkeeper that he rises to protest in the columns of the local buster He says he doesn't mind subscribing to legitimate charities, but he -objects to being continually struck for prizes and contributions to " balls " and "*' shows." In one short month or so he was beset by canvassers for the Hospital Ball, Rifles' Ball, Bowler's Ball, Rover's Ball, Parkvale Ball, Carterton Club Ball. After he had been " commandered " by these, it was the turn of the " shows," the Agricultural Show, the Flower Show, "the Fruit Show, the Presbyterian and the Anglican Shows. Then, he says, there are the Wesleyans, the " Army," the local bands, the cycle and cricket clubs, all ■claiming him " as a supporter," until, he pathetically remarks, he begins to doubt whether the little " show " he runs himself for the support of those dependent upon him, really belongs to him or not." The same story can be told in Wellington, and the worst of it is that tradesmen are frightened to refuse for fear of losing customers who may be interested in the •organizations. Parliament has put down canvassing for votes, but when are we to have a Canvassing (for subscriptions) -Abolition Bill ?

The tale is told by a local church warden. A backblooks settler of wild look and long mane, put in an appearance at the kirk a few weeks ago. He hadn't been in one for twenty years, and when the collection was being taken up he wore a scared look. " What's a fair thing ?" he whispered. " Oh, just please yourself," was the reply. " But I've only a cheque-book and no pen." Whereupon the warden produced an ink one, and Backblocks thankfully wrote his cheque for a tenner. * # • " Devonia " writes warmly, as becomes a patriot, abont our flag, of which a good deal has been heard lately, up aloft, flying in grand style, and down in the dirt, trailed behind the wheels of the signalling chariot of the Board of Trade :—": — " Would it not have been advisable," he asks, "to have reinstated the original New Zealand Company's flag, consisting of a broad red streak running through the centre lengthways on a white ground, with at the topmost corner on ihe masthead side a section allotted for four stars in a dark blue ground, representing New Ulster, New Munster, New Lemster, and New Connaught, into which the whole colony was originally divided ? This really handsome flag," he argues, " stands out conspicuously, let the sky be overcast, gloomy, or in clear, brilliant sunshine. The present hybrid monstrosity representing New Zealand's ensign is most decidedly an ultra-marine abomination, savouring of the ancient Wiltshire moonrakers' stolidity." • * • Now, " ultra-marine abomination " is good, picturesquely good,. if it applies only to the biscuit disc of the sordid Board of Trade's signal flag. This country wants a flag, and is not going to be fobbed off with the sky sign of a biscuit tin. But the flag suggested is not good in any sense, except the reminiscent. "Devonia " deserves the thanks of readers of the Free Lance for the interesting light he has thrown on the past — the brave days of old— but, again, this country wants a flag, not a reflection of a thing which died fifty or sixty years ago without hope of resurrection. Besides, where is the Union Jack in this proposed revival ?

In view of the Eight Hours Deraonsrtation, the Lance rises to point out that the water fountain memorial erected to the memory of Parnell, the originator of the maveinent long years agone, stands in sad need of repair. It was only planted alongside the Public Library in '93, yet there is no water turned on, the outlet pipe is smashed, and the metal mug has disappeared. Also the gold lettering has faded in some places. Now, that fountain was erected by public subscription for the use of the public and to perpetuate a worthy name. Ib would cost little to put it in repair, and the Demonstration Committee might well do the work, and keep the memorial in ship-shape condition for all time. It might have been according to the letter to have remembered the thing for eight hours only. But the spirit wants something more like the gratitude, which is eternal.

Mr Galloway, M.P., he of the long anatomy and auburn hair, who visited Wellington a couple of years ago, and spent a good many evenings at the House, has got in again easily enough for South Manchester. His private comment upon the New Zealand Parliament was " too much bally jaw " ! Will anybody say he was wrong '?

Practical joking has its admirers, who, however, decrease in number as the hours roll on towards morning. One of these assorted few gave Mr E. M. (Earnest and Modest the initials mean) an unpleasant surprise during one of the nights, of what may be called the present record " upkeep "of the House. The Earnest and Modest was moving limply off " after the dismal all night sitting, intent on bath and breakfast, when in putting on his hat he was astonished to find the bath had come to meet him. The E. M. became wet as well as limp, but there was nothing limp in the language he devoted to the person who had emptied the water bottle into his hat. The language is said to have been worthy of Beelzebub himself. It is suggested, but probably without truth, that the E.M. now regards baths as things lending themselves to Tory machination, and therefore to be avoided by all true Liberals.

One of your " Job's Comforters " is the proverb which tells a man who. after expensively failing to land his double, has broken his leg and smashed his bike, that "misfortunes never come single." It has just descended on our Banking Dovecots, which are fluttered by a wicked whisper from London. The whisper has it that a gang of noted " cracksmen " are about to swoop down on the Land of Surprises, Surpluses, Seddons, and Soldiers. Imagine the invisible passenger list— Flash Frank the Fast Filer, Bull'seye Bill the Burgler, Jack Jemmy the Juggler, Artful Alf the Awfnl Awler, and Terrible Tommy the Twister, and a select assortment of "pals" — all only too well known at Scotland Yard. » • • It has reached the band that there is not a financial building from end to end of this happy country which cannot be cracked in the twinkling of a " Jemmy," and here they are, or will be, directly. Bank authorities are described, in wellinformed circles, as uneasy, which is not surprising. What is amusing is that the perspiring magnates make this another of the expanding seven deadly sins of Seddonism — after all it may not be too far-fetched. Perhaps the Executive of the Ancient Order of Cracksmen has heard of the surplus and the Old Age Pensions, and the ten per cent, to the Crown tenants, to say nothing of the other bits of our " boom," and has sent a delegation to test the prosperity of this Britain of the South. Who knows ? Mr Tunbridge says he doesn't. # # ♦ He had long intended getting rid of his clerk — not on account of inability to perform his duties, but owing to other things, loose habits, such, for instance, as remarkable facility with a billiard cue, the dexterous manipulation of pewter pots, and a tendency to back horses that get over the ground in double quick time. The last named was his principal failing, and the boss knew that he got some particularly good information occasionally. On the morning of last Rangitikei races, the boss happened to walk into the office as his amiable assistant was receiving the " straight griffin " from a friend per telephone, but he didn't turn to see who was behind him until he had learnt all about it. The employer, not a sporting man (certainly not), was about to remonstrate regarding his betting proclivities, and to touch upon the advisability of getting another berth, when he checked himself and said, " You appear to attend more to racing than to my business ; now, how much are you going to risk on the information you just received ?" u Only five shillings on each ot two races, sir — all I can afford." "What are the horses?" " Mellwood for both — it's a sure thing." " Well, I have never staked in my life, but here's jEIO ; go and put £5 on him for each event, and it he doesn't win, God help you 1" The surprised clerk staked with much trembling, and anxiously waited for the afternoon wires. Mellwood won the double all right ; the employer raked in i! 35, and the clerk is secure in his billet — for the present at all events.