Entre Nous

Free Lance, Volume I, Issue 45, 11 May 1901, Page 12

Entre Nous

HE is a medical man, whose figure is familiar along Lambton Quay. Medicine is his occupation, gardening is his pieoccupation. His wife socuied a new domestic the other evening, and, when the girl came downstairs a.t an early hour next morning, she naturally concluded that the 'grafter" in the garden, with the ordinal y clothes on, was the man-of-all-work. So, being a good-natured girl, and of a sociable turn, she called in the 'gardenei" as soon as, the kettle was boiling, to have a cheering cup. "Come on, old chap," w as the surprising invitation he received from Mary Jane. As there is not a bit of pride in his makeup, but a rich vein of humour, hecheeiilv lephed, All light,^ old gill, I'll be with you in half a jiff l " • • • Seated in the- kitchen, with "a nice cup of tea" in front of him, the "gaidener" was plied with questions by the new girl. "Say," said she, "what sort of people are they in this house?" "Oh, not so bad," he replied. "What's the missus like 2 " "Oh, you'll find her a good sort." 'And the boss — is he any class p " This was a staggerer, and a home-thrust, and he took a deep drink to think over his answer. "Well, of course, you won't have much to do with him — trust the missus for that! — but you'll find him rather rough and ready, and a bit of a surprise you know!" Having swallowed his tea., he said he must be off, and disappeared. It was the family breakfast time when the girl next saw her "gardener," who was sitting at the head of the table, "clothed and in his right mind." The* girl rocognised him as he smiled, and nearly dropped the tray as she exclaimed, "You'— the boss'" Fact. * * * Much dissatisfaction exists among returned Contingenters at the list of honours and promotions aw r arded officers and membeis of our South African troops. There is, for instance, the case of that warrior, from Haw era, Captain Bartlett. The members of the First Contingent speak in the highest terms of praise of this officer's bravery, zeal, and enterprise, and there is a feeling

akin to anger among them because he has received neither decoration nor promotion. He was ever the first to volunteer for risky enterprises, and did some splendid skirmishing wOl k — and lie has no reward. * * • Dr. Godfray''s case is pointed out as another glaring instance of o\eisight. All the honours and promotion have been showered on Dr. Burns, but, whilst it is admitted that this surgeon did excellent service, he came scatheless through the campaign, while his colleague, Dr. Godfray, was twice wounded in action, whilst attending to the injured, and, in one case, sat beside a w ounded w amor for liouis under the enemy's fire. Contingentors who were there say that this doctor should have had a D.S.O. at the very least. Yet he, also, has no rew ard. * * * Then, among the non-coms., it is said that a saddler-sergeant, who did nothing out of the way — or in the way — received promotion because he was Colonel Robin's galloper' Another sin of omission on the pait of the authorities is the over-looking of a lewaid to Charley Sommervillo, son of the popular, rifle-shooting colonel of that name. Mr. Sommervillc received a lieutenant's commission in Cradock's Company (the Second 1 ), and when Captain Hutson retired wounded from the field the Wanganui man was promoted. But, strange to say, although cxactlv the same thing happened in the case of Lieutenant Crawshaw , who received a captaincy when Captain Hayhurst returned home, young Sommerville carried out the duties of captain on a lieutenant's pay, whilst tho Timaruvian not only got the pay ■with the promotion, but he has returned to the colony this week a full-blown major. Why fish of one and flesh of the other? Captain Sommerville, like Captain Crawshaw, was wounded in action, and both went back to the firing line on recovering. Wherefore these anomalies? All should be fair in war, as in love. * * • It is quite evident that the authorities anticipate a big squeeze at Rotorua when the Duke and Duchess and their retinue get up there. Apartments have been engaged for no less than eighty guardians of the peace — policemen and detectives — so that nothing may be left to chance. A good many Wellingtonians will be there, in the hope either of rubbing shoulders with royalty or of seeing what is likely to be the greatest native gathering that has ever been held in New Zealand. Some of the intending pleasure^seekers from tliis part of the world have engaged quarters at Rotorua long since. Those who have not attended to this little detail are likely to find themselves out in the cold.

There is a very great deal of real unselfishness in the man who volunteers to restore a wind-captured hat, eject a superfluous dog from a pleasure boat, or perform any such act of practical Christianity. As a rule, he accomplishes neither object, but contrives to

make himself appear supremely ridiculous. A case m point occurred the other day on board the Wellington Ferry Company's s.s. Duchess. She was crowded with an excursion party, and just prior to "letting go" from the wharf, a certain elderly dame discovered, to her great grief, that the family pet was on board. She appealed to her daughter to "Send Jackie home," but the daughter wisely refrained from taking up the contract. She had learnt that when a dog of the "Comic Cuts" order gets where he is particularly undesirable, he only retires of his own initiative. • • • At this point, a rather stylish Johnnie, who evidently wished to distinguish himself before the younger of the ladies, came forward and expressed his intention of "putting the dawg hawf." The Comic Cuts" canine took refuge by crouching under the middle of a seat occupied by several ladies in gala dress. The masher began operations by vigorously prodding with his walking-stick in the direction of the dog, which had prepared for biege by tightly tucking his tail round his legs and contracting his body, so as to present as little surface as possible to the attack. There was some doubt as to the exact locality of the interloper, so the seat of war was transferred to the other end of the seat. Here the young man from London made a spirited attack, doing considerable execution on an elaborate lacetnmmed garment. On being informed by the wearer that he was entirely on the wrong track, he got red in the face and poked desperately with his walkingstick in another direction. Then, the situation became some what relieved by a lady who occupied the central position on the seat exclaiming "That horrid dog is tearing my dress." A happy inspiration came to the doghunter at this critical juncture, and, requesting the ladies to rise, he knelt on the deck (to the severe detriment of his holiday suit), and boldly tried to seize the pup. There was a yelp and a snap, and that young man got up a great hurry, and crammed his hand into liis trousers pocket, while agony worked upon his features. Luckily, the band struck up at the moment, and drowned the cursory remarks of the young man, w ho decided to complete the voyage in tlie stoke-hole. The dog remained boss of the situation. He made a kind of a triumphal parade round the deck, and, finding there were no more mashers anxious to interview him, he curled himself comfortably on the old lady's skirt, and belia\ed in a most exemplary manner for the remainder of the trip.

When the wind bloweth in from the sea at Wellington, it brings more forcible argument to bear in favour of rational dress than the most inspired feminine advocate ever did. A lady, who leads the fashion up in the selectesfc part of Thorndon, found that out the other day when she opposed a trained dress to a local zephyr. With a light heart she started to cross from Featherston-street to the Post Office, when the wind sailed down upon her. • « • It lifted her up, and jammed her against a telegraph post, wrapping the trained skirt tightly round it so as to firmly bind its owner to the post, and, at the same time, playing havoc generally with the remainder of her apparel. The lady's feelings must have been rathei mixed, for, during the few fleeting moments she stood bound to the post, certain ominous rendings and "givings" were heard. Luckily for the severely taxed garment, a momentary lull enabled her, by an extreme effort, to unwind the skirt from the post, and, gathering up the train in frantic haste, she scorched for the nearest port of refuge. The match between wind and skirt was watched by a group of post and telegraph boys, who had collected at the side door of the Post Office to see it through. • • • Watchful guardians of the interests of the East Coast are clamouring for representation in the Legislative Council. Since the retirement of the Hon. Randall Johnston the district has had no direct voice in the House of Lords, and since the death of Major Ropata no representation whatever in that blissful region. As several fresh appointments have been persistently mooted lately, the claim put forth by the wise men of tho East will no doubt receive attention. They are now laughingly telling the story of a well-known citizen, who recently received a horse from the country from an anonymous donor. It was represented in a letter that the animal was sent as "conscience money," the sender having in some manner swindled the recipient in days agone. The recipient was, naturally, quite elated with his gift, which was warranted to be a good saddle horse, and equal to double and single harness. His joy, however, was very short-lived, for the beauteous creature smashed his buggy at first time of asking, and when out riding later threw him, and broke his arm. If anyone is in want of a fine, up-stand-ing hack, that nag is now for sale. Its rueful owner shrewdly suspects that the donor of the beast was not affected by any qualms of conscience, but that ho adopted this means of doing him an injury and satisfying a revenge.

One of the worries in the lives of Wellington's school-teachers is the system of excuses in vogue. If a youngster is late, he or she (the youngster, not the teacher) has to procure a written excuse. Tender-hearted mothers are often hard put to it to find a workable excuse for Johnny's or Sissies slothfulness. Then, again., teachers are worried by the protests made against the home-work infliction. But, one local teacher received an epistle the other day which compensated for many of life's little worries. Here is what an anxious, doting mother wrote '■Dear Miss, — Plese do not push Johnny too hard, for so much of his branes is intelleck that he ought to be held back a good deal or he will run to intelleck intirely. And Ido not dozire this. So plese hold him back so as to keep his intelleck from getting bigger than his boddv, and injurin' him for life." • • • The danger of riding without lights was fully exemplified in Wellington the other night, when there was a violent collision between two cyclists, one of whom was thrown with great force on the stone pavement. Owing to lack of light, one had not noticed the other cross the road, and the result gave a good idea of what happens when the Inevitable meets the Immovable. Both riders suffered considerably from the shock of colliding, but neither lost his power of speech. On the contrary, each of them showed great presence of mind in demonstrating, both fluently and emphatically, how the other was to blame for the accident. * * * It relates to a local solicitor, and is travelling round at a bri&k pace iust now. The other morning he. walked down to his office in. company with a well-known citizen, who lives in the same locality. For want of something better to open the conversation with, the worthy citizen started on. the recent municipal elections, and, in that connection, casually mentioned sundry by-laws, and asked about goats and pigs. The man of law observed that they were not allowed to browse about the streets of the city, or something of that sort, and the conversation turned upon another theme. A week afterwards, the man of commerce was dumbfounded on receiving from his "legal adviser" a little bill, "To advising you re goats and nigs, 6s Bd." "Egad!" he remarked, "it's a wonder he did not separate them, and charge 6s 8d for each." Of course, he got his 6s 8d! Reminds one of a Sydney lawyer, who was asked his opinion about the weather one day. He gave it , his prediction proved correct, and next day he sent in his little bill for the advice.

There was a quaint meeting at a Government co-operative job up North the other day. Three pick and shovellers, who were apparently little used to such rough work, discovered, on starting, that they were known to each other. One was a young man, who had taken his law degrees, but had never practised; the other was a duly qualified medical man ; and the third a bartender, who, in days gone by, had too frequently administered to the liquid wants of the other two. They laughed heartily, but the meeting recalled better times and sad memories. The barman was, perhaps, the happiest man of the trio. ♦ ♦ » A much-talked of engagement between a well-known Wellington couple has just been rudely ruptured, and the reported cause thereof has occasioned much amusement in the circles in which the pair move. It appears that the gentleman was asked up to dinner, and there was something of a scene when he refused to take the choicest cut of the "stuffed saddle," or a round of prime ox. He said he was a strict vegetarian, and would not renounce his principles for Father Peter. The old people did not say anything, but his intended calmly set down a hunk of mutton fair on top of his mashed cabbage and potatoes and made him riled. That started the trouble, and the engagement appears to be off for good. It isn't every woman who would let a head of cabbaee stand between her and future happiness. * ♦ * It happened in the Academy of Arts, at the Sketch Exhibition, one night last week. A tame and tired-looking middle-aged citizen was meandering round in an aimless sort of way, when up marched one of the Committee and said, "Can I help you? Are you looking for anything special?" He meekly replied, "Thank you, I'll just take a rest for a while, if you'll just hunt up my wife, and tell her it's time to go home. She's in the crowd somewhere." • • • Stated as an absolute fact ; by a local shopkeeper, that a young girl not long back obtained from him a fair amount of goods on what subsequently proved to be false pretences. He was about to hand her over to the police, when she declared that he would be paid almost immediately, as she was about to get married. As a matter of fact, the majority of the articles were intended for her wedding trousseau. This proved to be the case, but her intended husband apparently did not like the look of things, although he paid up. He probably thought that if his lady fair could run up bills at that rate before marriage, it was rather unlikely that he could live up to her pace afterwards.

The Maoris up at Rotorua are anxious to get General French into hdt water. They have followed his career in South Africa wish the greatest interest. They look upon him ad a very big chief indeed, and, now, that they have heard he is ill, and needs a holiday, they are intent upon getting him to try a trip to the Hot Lakes. It is no mere passing whim on t their part. They are quite in earnest' over the matter, and are about to send their invitation through the Native Minister. If French comes, they promise a real good time to one of Britain's greatest soldiers. * ♦ • A Darby and Joan from some remote backblocks settlement in the Sounds arrived in Wellington lately, to see a longlost son, who who has come her to live. They were captured by the messenger of a well-known hotel, who annexed both them and their luggage. By and bye, the missing son was sent for, and received an effusive welcome. He naturally inquired how his parents had found their way to such a fashionable hotel, and how they liked it. The old lady remarked, "I never saw such attentive people as they are at this hotel." "Yes," said Darby, taking up the parable, "it's perfectly wonderful how attentive they are. One would actually think we were the Duke and Duchess of York. Waiters and waitresses have been here a dozen times at least ahasking of us if we wanted anythink." * * * Here the old gentleman's attention was attracted to his wife, who was amusing herself by pressing the electric knob on the wall. "What on airth are you working at there, Mariar?" he demanded. "Oh, it's only my curosity," she smilingly replied. "Fer the last half-hour I've bin trying to see what this funny little button on the wall is fer." It was some considerable time before the son was sufficiently recovered to be able to explain. • * It happened at Thorndon, not so very long ago. A detective had been obtained to watch a certain mansion in hopes of catching a sneak -thief who had paid one profitable vißit, and was believed to be still hovering round the locality. In perfect innocence that the law had already been invoked, a friendly neighbour thought he would sally forth and lend a hand to capture the thief. He passed stealthily up the garden path, and all went well till he reached a dark shrubbery, when a man sprang out and collared him. The night was dark, and a wrestling match ensued, in which, fortunately, only the chrysanthemum beds were damaged. By this time, the occupants of the house were timidly approaching the scene of battle, lantern in hand, and great was their amusement to discover their visitor, a lawyer, bv the way, safe in the arms of the stalwart detective. Profuse apologies and— a clothes brush— quickly put things right, and now the lawyer thinks he will in future stick to his own part of the business— the second act. * * * . "Fellowship is life, lack of fellowship is death." This Morrisian quotation was the motto of the Socialist gathering held m Godber's rooms last week. And the sixty odd "Discontents" acted up to the hrst part of the quotation. There was not a serious face in the group— until just before midnight there came the time of parting. The musical programme was late in getting a move on, because there was no one present who could vamp on the piano. Raastead the Regulator, and chief guest of the evening; could play, but not without the music-sheet. At last, Ranstead said he would "have a try to vamp and the Rev W. A. Evans— who is also a t^ity Father— offered to lead the singing, and the party burst out into the most popular of Old World Socialistic hymn-songs "England, Arise!" Several of the "Clarionettes" suggested that the chorus should be altered for the occasion to "Zealand, Ansel" but "good old England" prevailed. The funniest incident of the evening was the singing of "Killaloe" in the broadest of broad Scotch by one McFarlane, who rendered the famous ehorua thusly— Ye ma sang o' Bunopairtv. Lakewaise oboot eh cairte, Ar enny aither pairty An' come-on o' pairtie voo, We've lairnt ta sang it eesy That sang t' Mairshalleesy, Bowlon, Twalang, an' Cantmang, We leernt at Kalaloo!