ALL SORTS OF PEOPLE

Free Lance, Volume I, Issue 33, 16 February 1901, Page 3

ALL SORTS OF PEOPLE

PREMIER DICK'S speech at the Basin Rosen c, in welcoming the Imperial troops, on Saturday, was pitched in the right key— he is rarely at fault there— but he made the usual mistake of being long-winded. One of the Imperial Tommies gave picturesque expression to the feelings of himself and comrades. He was a gay Hussar— one of "the Saucy Seventh," of course — and to a knot of admiring Wclhngtonians he abruptly exclaimed, I say, how long is the stout party going to chew the fat?" Just about the same time the crowd in mufti began to protest. It was no gentle protest, either, nor, when Mr. Seddon failed to take the hint, did the wits of the crowd choose polite terms. "Oh, ring off, Dick!" "Give it a rest, old man!" "That'll do — now, that'll do, and let's come to the soldiers!" "Call Tommy Atkins to shoot the bore!" "Say, Diek — Richard, dear — for the love of heaven, shut up'" Suddenly, Richard turned off the tap, and he sat down with such a jerk that one anxious democrat was heard asking with great concern, "Who yanked the old man down?" * • • The Kaiser's giving of a Field-Mar-shal's baton to Earl Roberts came appropriately enough, immediately after the Earl had entered upon the jubilee year of military- service. It was at the end of 1851 that he was appointed a second lieutenant in the Bengal Artillery of the East India Company's service He became captain m 1860, brevet - major a day later, major in 1872, brevet lieutenant - colonel in 1868, brevet-colonel in 1870, majorgeneral in 1878, lieutenant-general in 1883, general in 1890, field-marshal in 1895, and Commander-in-Chief in 1900 ♦ ♦ * Jim Walden is a gentleman who is 'only too well known to bookies and fcpielers. Jim is one of the best physiognomists in the colony, yet ho is not a member of Commissioner Tunbndgo's sldff. Prior to the holding of the Wellington Exhibition (in 189())) ho was a coal tally-clerk on the Wellington wharves He was put on the main door cf the Exhibition to spot and pass season ticket-holders, and it was while he was doing that duty that his special ability was discovered. For it was found that Walden had a pair of the sharpest eyes and as keen a memory for faces as ever a sleuth hound possessed Ho did not go back to the wharves again, but is now kept busily engaged throughout the racing season on the gates at the majority of the North Island race meetings, preventing the entrance of bookies and spielers. • • • He knows them all, and has been so successful in proving cases of tote-bet-ting against those whom he has had arrested on or about racecourses, that they are now afraid to play the game whilst Jira is about. Many have been the devices used to get past him, and some have been so far successful as to enable the tout to get through the gates. But suspicion has come to Walden, he has followed the suspect, and before the race was over has remembered and ejected his man Only recently, at one of the meetings, a wellknown bookie sacrificed a fine beard and moustache to got past Jim, but, although the hair had come off the "gamp" did not, and his hirsute sacrifice, went for nothing.

Immediately Colonel Wyndham and Ins staff rode from the Queen's Wharf into the triangle facing the G.P.O. on Saturday afternoon, there was a rush by half a dozen photographers to got a shot at the big guns. And the officers stood the shooting like veterans, and with no small amount of humour. Captain Wilson (of the "Blues"), the handsome Guard, husband of the ex-Aust-ralian, the smart Lady Sarah Wilson, of war correspondence and locked-up-in-Mafeking fame, was quickly rushed by one snap-shotter, who got a good pose from the genial officer. But when a second snapper came, the captain said — "I say, don't you think you'd better not waste a plate on me. I've just been shot, and that chap '11 beat you if you don't catch Evelyn Wood or someone else." But he was again snapped, and he took his fate with resignation. • • • "Say, are you the Colonel?" asked an excited cameraman, as he faced that handsome Lancer, Regimental Sergt.Major Laughton, who grinned at the question. Taking silence for yes, the photographer eried — "Now, sir, steady, don't move'" and he went away a happy man, not at all disturbed by the resultant laughter of the staff. The dark-uniformed son of Sir Evelyn Wood 1 1 Captain Wood, of the Staff and of the Scottish Rifles), was "taken on the hop," before he had time to straighten his features after the laugh." * * * Mr. W. J. Napier, the well-known solicitor and senior member for Auckland City, is now in Wellington, looking quite rosy and sleek after his Commonwealth holiday. Apparently, he carried out his bat in the champagne match. His present visit to Wellington is purely professional. He is briefed in connection with certain cases in the Supreme Court. The Rev. Mr. Paterson, of St. John's Presbyterian Chruch, is one of the nicest men in the world, but there are times when even his Scottish blood gets warmed up to the boiling point For instance, there was a meeting of tlio congregation the other night at ■which it wasn't all brotherly love by any manner of means. In fact, there was a little tug-of-war between the conservative and the progressive sections, and, not to put too fine a point upon it, the reverend chairman made rather an exhibition of temper. It was thuswise — A scheme was under discussion for the enlargement of the Sunday school accommodation, and w r hile everyone was agreed as to the necessity for further building, thore was a difference of opinion as to w hether new debt should bo incurred just when the congregation was hugging itself on being about tiee from the old debt, or whether the necessary funds should be raised by special efforts. * • • Now, the parson was all on the side of preventing the undertaking of any new loan, and wanted to see some money in hand before taking any steps. The other side proposed to leave the church managers a free course as to ways and means. When the discussion had gone on for some time, and the chairman, for about the sixth time, had expressed his horror of new monetary obligations, Mayor Aitken urged him to put the motion — to leave it to the managers This was the spark to the rev. gentleman's gunpowder. He fired up with a retort that Mr. Aitken wanted to take the control of the meeting out of his hands, and warmly declared that he would leave the chair, and the Mayor had better take it. This wasn't what was meant at all, but Mr. P. was in the act of moving away from *ho chair and precipitating a ' crisis,. It was only after some persuasion that he consented to be mollified, and then — w ell, the supporters of the managers were in the majority, and on the vote had things all tneir own way. But it was a narrow escape from a downright "scene."

The "New Zealand Times" has now got "another hat" behind the manager's door. What a varied managerial list tins "good old Times" has been compiling for many, many years. Just glance at its history during the past decade. Ten years ago the paper had passed out of Chantrey Harris's hands into those of Captain Baldwin. From the captain it was taken over by a company in which the Ballance Ministry had a strong interest . Then began the run on managers. First the Hon. W. P. Reeves exercised a supervising power, and within a short time Alister Brown (now on the "Post"), Harry Leicester (now an indent agent here), Ch as. Wilson (now Gen. Assembly Librarian), and alnhabetical Hornsby (now of the "Leader" and M.H.R.) passed through the front office chair. The reign of Cassidy, of New York, is still remembered as a lively incident in the paper's history, nor are the "Fat Contributor's" literary efforts forgotten. Later, "Bob" Bannister severed his connection with the "Post" to run the morning journal. Hunter, of Dunedin, succeeded him, and was glad to go back to the Otago "Daily Times' again when the opening was offered him. After Hunter came J. L. Kelly from the "Lyttelton Times," and now he in turn recedes from the manager's room, and henceforth will confine his energies to editing the "Times" and the "Mail." * • * It is said that Mr. Hiorns is severing his connection with the Christchurch "Press" to control the managerial concerns of the "New Zealand Times" Company. Mr. Hiorns has grown up with the "Press" from a youth, and graduated through the accountant department up to the general manager's chair. When the late Mr. Guthrie's illness took that gentleman from the office, it was Mr. Hiorns who -was placed in temporary command, and, upon Mr. Guthrie's death, he succeeded to the full honours of the chair. Those friends of Mr. Hiorns who remember the procession through the "Times" chair have marvelled over his leaving the "Press" to come to Wellington. Another prominent member of the "Press" staff (Mr. Pat. Nolan) is also coming back to the "Times." It would appear that the "Times" management is going to keep the promise, made some time ago, that their paper is to be improved past recognition. # • • "A three-year-old child of Mr. John McAuliffe, Temuka, broke her arm a few days ago through falling off a gate. She was attended to by Sir William Blunden." Such was an item in a South Canterbury paper last week. It is so remarkable that a baronet should be practising as a medico m one of the quietest townships (save us from the wrath of the Hon. Jeremiah Toomey!) that the Lance became curious. The result of inquiries shows that Dr. and Mrs. Blunden had resided in Temuka for many years. Then word came that "the baronet" had died, leaving the title to "Dr. William." As the family is old in Irish affairs, it goes almost without saying that the title carries very little save honour with it. At any rato, that's how Sir William comes to attend to accidents and fatalities in "sweet Temuka, loveliest village of the (Canterbury) plain." Lady Blunden is frequently to be seen cycling around the country, and making morning and afternoon calls into Timaru — a ride of thirteen miles, on an excellent road. # ♦ * Father Mclnerney, a well-known parish priest, who is at present enioying a change in the South, is brother to that Dr Mclnerney (doctor of laws and not of divinity, by the same tokew), who went to South Africa as a captain m Victoria's First Contingent. During the war the martial lawyer was shot through the body, but the wound only helped towards his promotion, for he is now Military Chief Justice at Pretoria.

To Sergeant Cruickshank belongs the credit of working up the case against Walter Phillips, the self-confessed swindler. It appears that some four months ago a gentle, personal, "all-on-his-own" tip was given to Cruickshank that things were not as they seemed with Phillips. Now, the Sergeant had known the insurance man almost from the time Phillips arrived in Wellington, because the latter had leased the pretty little villa at the Hutt, so well known through Tom Wilford having been its original occupier. Therefore, when Phillips lived at the Hutt he came under the immediate observation of the lynx-eyed Cruickshank, who then had the police oversight of the Hutt and Petone boroughs. * * * Phillips and his wife (who have a family of three children) were both natives of Victoria, where, prior to his Wellington appointment, he was a clerk on a moderate salary. He had lived beyond his income, and was involved in debt when he came over to New Zealand. Although his position was so greatly improved in Wellington, he still Rvpd rather ahead of his means, and there is every reason to believe that the Cbristchurch fire fraud was worked in order to "fix up" his books before the inspection took place. It is also alleged that Phillips confessed to the dummy swindle in order to prevent other crimes coming to light. He is only 32 years of age, and^ though of the cool and crafty type, he thoroughly believed that by confessing he would be admitted out on probation — yet he was not sufficiently clever to see that, by his frauds, he was letting go the substance to seize the shadow. It is not every bush that grows £500 a year for men of 32. * * * The fact that Sergeant Cruickshank was engaged for three and a half months upon his investigations shows that great care and tact must have been exercised in getting up the case, and the net result of obtaining a confession of crime is a feather in the cap of Inspector Pender's office. * * * "Who was that old greybeard who inarched at the head ot the Seaforth Highlanders?" This was a very frequent question on Saturday. And well might it be asked, for the figure was one of the most conspicuous on the march. The man was Mr. Samuel Atkins, one time sergeant in the Seafort hs, but for many years an old identity in Wellington, where he has acquired some property in Austin-street, and followed the occupation of a nightwatchman. Sam Atkins has been looking forward, with all the zeal and anxiety of a bride for her wedding day, to the coming of the troops, and from an early hour on Saturday he strutted the town dressed, like Hooligan, in "his best suit o' clothes." The uniform was resplendent in its newness, and cast something of a reflection upon those of the Seaforths at the head of whom Sam proudly strode. But not for long . did he keep it up — the pace was too much for the old man, who found he was not so young as he used to be. * * • A well-known face will be missing from the Quay during the next halfyear. Mr. "Bob" Holliday having left for an Old World jaunt. The quiet, unobtrusive bookseller has been a famiher figure in and about his shop for these many -ears, and, with his brother Will, has won troops of friends \\hile he has been perseveringh building up a successful business Feeling a bit seedy of late, "Bob" thought a trip Home would be the best kind of pick-him-im and he is now well on his way across the herring pond. He has gone via Australia, and, after reaching Home, will takp a run over to "tho Continong." "Bob"' will have a budget of rare yarns for "the boys" when he gets back to the old shop.

The neat exhibition of sleight-of-liand, given by Mr. H. Liardet at the "PoBt" "social" last week, drew attention to the remarkable tact that the "Evening Post has never been without a prestidigitateur on its staff. Jbor many years Tom Driver (known proiessionally as Prof. Kudarz) occupied a "frame" as a comp. on the paper, and he threw up his "cases" to follow conjuring as a profession. Then Norman Moore, a pupil of Driver's, and an apprentice in the machine-room, developed "the strange gift," and, in course of time, he also went on the variety stage. He is well known now in all the colonies as "Professor Lazern." And now Liardet (one of the "Modern Merlins") is keeping up the mystic institution in the "Post." • * • Among the country visitors who came to Wellington to see the Imperial troops was Mr. Parkinson, editor and proprietor of the Hawera Star." Mr. Parkinson was a frequent visitor to the Empire City in years gone by. Many a winter he has spent in this balmy clime, and many a public man he has "taken down." Only in the stenographic sense, however, tor up till 189 d Mr. Parkinson was one of the oldest and most capable members of the "Hansard" staff. In 1893 he retired, in order to give his whole time and undivided energies to the Hawera "Star," which, under his management, has become one of the most independent and prosperous newspapers on the Coast. By the way, Taranaki was strongly represented by her volunteers. To the procession she contributed the Taranaki Guards and the Taranaki Rifles (both from New Plymouth), the Stratford Rifles, Hawera Rifles, and Opunake Rifles. The Guards were in charge of Captain Okey, who, once upon a time, was rifle champion of New Zealand. » » # Another country visitor was Mr. Joseph Chicken, of Norsewood, who has recently organised, and become first captain of, the Union Rifles, at Ormondville. Mr. Chicken is one of the oldest rifle marksmen in the colony. His shooting career began in 1868,, and he has been a competitor at the New Zealand Rifle Association's meetings in 1874, 1891 1894, 1895, 1896, and 1897. At one of these meetings he established a record by making the possible — all bulls eyes — at the 300 yards range. Even now, when age is silvering his

locks, and piling flesh on his stalwart hgure, and lus sight is not what it used to be, and when altogether he is not exactly the nimble chicken he once was, the veteran could make the pace warm on the rifle range for some of the younger birds wlio are inclined to flap their wings and crow. Mr. Chicken has greatly enjoyed the exhibition given by the Imperial troopb. "Hadn't seen a British soldier," he said, "since the 18th Royal Irish left .Napier. In at was about I«7U, and I made up my mind not to miss this chance." And he didn't. * « • Who is the Hon H. H. Luskr 1 He is not in JNew Zealand at piesent, but lias been for some yeais resident in the United States of America, where he appears to hold a literary and journalistic oriet for this colony. In 18yy, he published a book entitled "Our J?oes at Home," m which he contrasts Amencan with New Zealand conditions. That book is to be seen m a Wellington bookseller's, and under the author's name t, "the Hon. H. H. Lu&k") appears the intimation — "Formerly member of New Zealand Parliament." Again, in the January issue of the American "Review of Reviews," appears a special article, entitled, "The Australian Commonwealth — It's People, Resources, and Outlook, by Hon Hugh. H. Lusk." The article is full of information, and, although the text has to do with tacts concerning the new nation, the writer drops in many a good word for New Zealand. * ♦ * Of course, the "Hon. H. H. Lusk" must be Mr. Hugh Hart Lusk, who once upon a time, many years ago, was a practising solicitor in Auckland, and who took a prominent part in its early politics. At one time, if we mistake not, he was in the Provincial Executive. At another time he ran for the Superintendency, but got beaten. Then he came out as a disciple of Sir George Grey, and sat for Franklyn in the House of Representatives. Finally, he retired from politics, closed up his law office in Auckland, and went over to Sydney. From Sydney he passed on to the States, where he seems to have been devoting himself entirely to literary work. But where he acquired the title of "Honourable" is an enigma Possibly m that democratic country, where everyone must have some handle to his name, Hugh Hart Lusk, in selfdefence, helped himself to "Hon."

Mr. John Duthie returned home by the Mokoia on Wednesday, atter an absence ot nine months. Six of those months were spent by Mr. Duthie in the hrm's London ofhce, where he stuck as close to his desk as is his wont when in Wellington. Mr. Duthie looks well and reinvigorated after his change, and is thoroughly up-to-date on the hardware question. Being out of pubho life in nis own colony, he interested himself very little in public life at Home, giving all political matters a rest. Other interesting personages on the Mokoia included Sir Walter Morton, solicitor to the British Board of Trade, who was knighted two years ago lor his valuable services to the Board , Mr. John Tinlnie (ot New Zealand University Tinline Scholarship fame), a wealthy Nelsoman, who has fine quarters in Sleepy Hollow; Mr. A. D. Willis, M.H.R. for Wanganui; and Mr. Pharazyn, who has been doing a Holy Land pilgrimage and a tour in the East. • • • Mrs. Wood, wife of Captain Evelyn Wood, ot the Scottish Rifles, is a Marton girl, daughter ot Mr. Duncan, of tiiat district. She is strikingly handsome, and at the Club "At Home" on Saturday her beauty made a great impression upon the ladies who were present. W herever she went there was a bevy of ot them in close attendance to get a good look at her. By the way, Mr. Uuncan made his son-in-law a substantial present this week. He sent him down from Marton three horses, which came to hand in time to be shipped by the Britannic on Wednesday last. • • • The very latest about Organiser Edwards, says the "Observer," is that he has written to all the electoral committees, inquiring earnestly after their health, and asking them to be good enough to raise a fund of £500 for fighting exes. Not a bad screw, for that is probably what is meant, all minor incidentals — such as printing, stationery, etc. — being defrayed, it is said, in a way which baffles the keenest Eolitician, even Pirani. But five undred a year! It's enough to make the mouths of political parrots water, and auctioneers and glib - tongued hawkers to wish they could organise. If the appeal comes off — and its a very strong one — there is sure to be a rush tor that billet from all and sundry, and then who knows but that Edwards will

be sorry he made it? But joking apart, is it not about the coolest request that was ever made, even by a political agent? — and political agents, as a rule, are not modest. • • • Ferry. "The Human Frog," gave us a call the other day, and lent himself readily to an interview. He was born at Philadelphia, in 1872, and even in childhood was noted for being exceptionally supple and limber. At the age of 15 he ran away from home to join a circus troupe, and, to quote his own Words, "I had a. pretty rough time of it for a while as 'The Human Serpent." He learnt all his own tricks as a contortionist, and worked up his own stage business. Prom the circus he graduated to other shows, and, in time, elaborated his present grotesque and celebrated act as "The Human Frog." As a child he was accustomed to play at a place called Frog Island, where there was a marsh with a very lively colony of frogs. It was here that Ferry made a close study of the batrachian, and is now able to personate him to the life. • • • He made his debut in this part at Nibloe's Garden in New York, in 1888, and produced a sensation at once. Since then he has been with Tony Pastor's troupe (one season), Barlow Brothers' Minstrels (three years), and Whallen and MarteLTs Vaudeville Company (nine years) touring the States and Canada. He was encored by Mr. O. M. McAdoo for the colonies,, and after that gentleman's regretted death played under Harry Rickards, and is now under encasement to Mr. Percy Dix. Mr. Ferry is still a bachelor, but it is not improbable that ere he returns to the States he will have taken unto himself a wife. • • ♦ Some people have jumped to the conclusion, upon seeing Ferry squatting upon that narrow iron pedestal on the stage, that he must support himself there by some arrangement of wires. Nothing of the sort. He placed a narrow glass tumbler of the ordinary kind upon our office table, and, in his everyday clothes, sat himself upon it without other support, and with the greatest of ease. In fact, he backs himself to balance himself upon any solid substance having! a circumference no larger than that of a half-crown.