Entre Novs

Free Lance, Volume II, Issue 54, 13 July 1901, Page 12

Entre Novs

THK ready wit of a student found its mai k at the diploma ceremony in Wellington last week Professor Easterfield, during his interesting address, made an eloquent appeal to the wealthy citizens to come forward and endow a chair for the benefit of the Victoria College University Meeting with no response, the Professor, probably observing the- Mayor of Wellington, standing near the doorway (unable, apparently, to get a seat), changed his point of attack He went on to say that some people had an impression that the City Council had a lot of money. If this was so, might not the City Council give the College a chair 9 he asked. During the pause which ensued, as all eyes were turned upon Mr. Aitken, a student bawled out from the back benches — "Give the Mayor a chair'" His Worship collapsed out of view, and the spectators roared with laughter. * ♦ » Dukn of York yarns are not exhausted yet. It appears that the police were informed that a suspicious-looking individual had been seen hanging round a local spot where the Duke had laid a foundation-fctone. He was subsequently seen hurrying Newtownwards with a saw in one hand and a small piece of board in the other. Accosted, he explained "That is the very bit of board the Duke stood on to lay the stone, and I am going to keep it as a souvenir." The police have released him as a harmless crank. Thousands of feet of timber on which the Duke walked are. alas, being consumed for firewood. Cannot something be done to stop this wanton sacrilege. * » • Wellington horse owners are not specially pleased with the Royal visit. They were fairly content while the festivities lasted and did good business, but after? Writer has noticed, with regret, that many horses — most of them valuable beasts — have been mined, at least for a time, by picking up nails on the ground recently occupied by the arche6. It is regrettable that more care has not been taken to prevent the possibility of crippling horses. A horse with a four-inch nail in the frog of his foot is not a valuable asset, without taking into consideration the pain suffered by the poor brute. The cyclists of the city are abo having their little wail. Fortunately, their steeds arc shod with indiarubber and air, and the injury is repairable with no physical pain to anyone Previous to future decoration, entailing the use of nails on public highways, the contractors should certainly be required to collect their waste nails, or be made responsible in the contract for possible injury to horses.

It is said that Aucklanders were much disappointed when it came about that the Duke le.ft the colony without giving Mayor Campbell a knighthood or a cM G.-ship. If Auckland was disappointed, how much more so should Wellington be. After all the months of worry and devotion which Mayor Aitken gave to the task of preparing the place for the great reception which was given the Duke and Duchess, he has been left with only a pair of autographed photographs as a record, of the visit ' Surely, it is said by Welhngtonians, the least that could have been done was to mark the visit to the colony by ennobling the Mayor of the capital city, as was done in Melbourne and Sydney. # * * At any rate, there are reasons why Auckland's Mayor is deserving of recognition beyond those of the- Chief Magistrates of the other centres. Although he is quite new to the mayoral chair, he has grown up with the Queen City ot the North. He was one ot the earliest Superintendents of the province, he held office in the first responsible Ministry of the colony, and he has dwelt in Auckland from its first days of settlement. Apart from the fact that m his latter end he has endowed the city with a noble parkj Dr. Campbell deserves special notice as a city father in the fullest sense of the term. • * • Mayor Aitken is the senior of all the City Magistrates in length of service, but he has not spent more than a decade here ; Mayor Rhodes is a native of Canterbury, and of a wealthy family, but there has- been sociaJ ambition behind his taking the mayoral chair of Chnstchurch and Mayor Denmston's fervour has nothing special in it. But Dr. Campbell was Dr. Campbell, of Auckland, when all these folks were in petticoats. A whisper has been heard that there is likely to be cause for much rejoicing over its mayor when the birthday honours are announced in November next. After all, it is no small thing to endow a city with a park, and give it through the heir of a king. This is said to be the correct version of the incident. Prince George and Governor Ranfurly were strolling in one of the Christchurch suburbs, and happened to pass a Wesleyan Sunday school as the scholars came forth. It was somewhat embarrassing to the distinguished pedestrians to be closely followed by a few score youngsters — it was slightly different to driving along rope-barred streets, between rows of volunteers and constables. The Duke's gracious acknow ledgement of the childlen's salutes made matters somewhat worse, and encouraged a shorb-frocked little maid, who had been walking in front of the Prince, and turning frequently to scrutinize Britain's future King, to come still closer. At length, the Duke said to her, very kindly, "Now, my little girl, you have had a walk with me, so now run away and play." The lassie, however, was not ready to adopt the suggestion, and, though she was not quite so persistent in her attention, it was some minutes before she left. Perhaps, she had been wondering at the strange request of the King's son to "run away and play" on a Sunday, when the Sunday school lesson that afternoon had been based on the text, "Remember the Sabbath Day," etc.

It is not generally known that there was a deep significance attached to Prince George's parting gift to our Premier. The Prince was in a quandary as to what he should give the Premier. During the period of the Prince's doubts and mdicision, Mr. Seddon burst forth into speech at a Wellington function. Through his verbosity, Sir John Anderson nearly missed the Ophir, as she was leaving the Queen's Wharf. On hearing Sir John's plaint, the Heir-appar-ont's brow cleared. "Eureka!" he cried. "Where?" asked Sir John. ' I've got it!" exclaimed the bestower of gifts. "I will give the Premier of Maoriland an inkstand. May he read between the lines that we intend this as a gentle hint that in future 'he may write more and speak less!" • ♦ ♦ A good story comes from Christchurch. On the day of the review, the officers of a certain battalion hailing from the Empire City arranged for a special lunch for themselves and military friends at the camp mess tent. The review being over, they delayed a while to see that their men were comfortably provided for, and then wended their way to the

mess tent to do justice* to the good things* they had ordered. Imagine their disgust to find that their seats had already been jumped by uninvited guests, with the result that they had to seek lunch where they could. The language of the Colonel was warm, but dignified. None would have appreciated a joke more, but, from the tone adopted by the intruders, they evidently thought they had done a smart thing. Othei people call it by a different, name. * • • Last week's cable informed us that King Edward had been holding a clearing sale of wines from his own and his mother's cellars, and that the sale had brought £17,547. In all, 60,000 bottles of sherry were offered, and they came from the cellars at Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle, Marlborough House, and Sandringham. The greater part of the wine was laid down in the days when sherry was a more fashionable drink than xt is to-day, and a guarantee was given by the auctioneers that the youngest bottle was* a decade old. Sixty thousand bottles is a pretty large stock for Royal cellars, and it was estimated that the sale would take a week, with keen competition from American millionaires. * * * As some of the lots brought £28 10s, £27 10s, and £23 per dozen, there must have been some competition , but, in the light of these long prices, the King does not seem to have netted a long price for the whole lot. Some of the lots must have gone "dirt cheap." Some of the sherry was stocked before the Prince Consort's death, and was evidently laid down in anticipation of State banquets and Court gaiety — an anticipation never realised. Then, again, it was once the custom of Royalty to give every day a bottle of wine to certain members of the household as part of their pay, and the yearly orders for sherry must have been repeated after the custom had ceased. But a king holding a clearing sale is sufficiently remarkable to call for special comment. By the wav, the State would benefit by that sale, for as wine for Royal use is exempt from duty, immediately that sherry was sold the purchasers had to pay a tax ' * • # A rather attractive-looking person, with curly-gold locks, and who habitually wears a gorgeous orchid in his button-hole had a brief but enjoyable reign in high society here quite lately. He possessed an undoubted air of culture and distinction, had plenty of money, and could talk on any subject eromg. Letters of introduction speedily got him into select company, buttho end camp when a new-comer at a whist party who had 'dined well," reeopnised ♦he stranger as a barber's assistant w r ho had shaved him at one time in Auckland. There was a sultry palaver for a minute of two. but the curly-locked one smilingly donned his beaver and strolled out. "A barber, eh?" remarkrd one of the company, "no wonder he could talk well."

A Whangarei paper makes the astounding statement that Prince Geoige la "at least a head shorter than Princess May." Princess May should go into the show business if hard times come her way. The Prince is sft b\m in height, so that, on the computation of the Northern authority. Princess May is anytlung between Oft 3in and bft 6in. • ♦ * The bagpipe is the latest advertising medium at Palmerston North, and the advertiser is one of the numerous land agents of that town. He combines a love for the instrument of the land of his birth with a canny regard for the increase of his business. Recently, he startled the quiet of the town by bursting forth into the "Cook o' the North" on the wild pibroch. Townspeople and visitors flocked to listen to the weird strains. The ingenious land agent, having gathered his crowd, repressed the wind-bag, and thus discoursed — "I have for sale a hundred acres, half in grass, half in clover, gold mines in the vicinity, traction-engine passes door every five minutes, and so on." The land agent in Palmerston North who desires to get ahead in his profession must advertise with originality. Large orders for musical instruments have arrived in Wellington, and the rival cornet, who has a town section to sell, is practising hard to beat the bagpipe purveyor of grass lands. • • • The gentry whose working class consists of an old sack and a wheelbarrow, and who pursue the avocataon known as "bottle oh," are a most persistent class, and call as regularly as the cabbage John or the rent collector. One local expounder of the cold-water gospel and his worthy spouse feel particularly aggrieved at the way in which their house is visited by these merchants of the glass. "Everybody knows we do not have bottles," pathetically remarked the husband to a temperance fnend the other day, "vet these people seem to come to our place oftener than they do to others. I cannot understand it at all" Well, the truth is that the couple are not very popular with their neighbours, and, whenever Mr. "Bottle Oh" calls round that street, they promptly bribe him to call at the temperance establishment, with the result that the place is often visited two or three times a day. No wonder the pious owner believes that the bottlecollecting business* is an invention of the evil one. » • • It is seldom a romance is built up round a patent medicine advertisement, but one, which has just come under the notice of writer, is worth chronicling. A number of years ago a London youth, whose people were well to do, was charmed by a pretty girl, and their friendship soon ripened into a closer intimacy , in fact, they were in love with each other, but kept the little secret to themselves, owing to their extreme youth and the strictness of their respective parents. A time came when the young lady's people decided to migrate to Australia, and, though the lovers resolved to write to each other, communication was never established, owing to the roving propensities of the travellers, who visited different colonies before defimtelv fixing on a site for a' home. • * * The young man subsequently decided to come to New Zealand, taking up his abode in tins district, where, with a little capital at his command, he has been doing well. Quite recently when casting his eye over the advertising columns of a paper, he noticed a testimonial signed by the mother of his fir&t love, whom he had almost forgotten. Writing across, he successfully established the identity of the family, and he has now gone over with the intention or marrying and bringing his fair bride to Wellington. • • • The dainty features of a certain Wellington lady were metamorphosed into the colours' of a many-hued sunset one afternoon recently. She has not long bee*n a resident here, and had been asked to meet some friends at one of these mysterious afternoon parties, where the flavour of orange pekoe intermingles with that of Society scandal. When crossing the room, the lady sought her pockethandkerchief, and, in pulling it out, dislodged a big lump of coal, which fell to pieces on the carpet. » • ♦ The company laughed delightedly, and did not know what to make of it. They know she had no children who would play a trick on her: the suggestion that she liad been "bagging" coal was out of the question, so- they assumed that she had been working in her kitchen and had absent-mindedly pocketed a "black diamond" instead of her purse Tho lady set all doubts on tho matter at rest, however, bv stating, mid many blushes, that she always earned a lump of Westport about for luck, but. being in a hurry that day, she snatched a bigger lump from tho bin than usual There was not much luck about that obony specimen, though.

There is yet another story of the Duke, and this one comes from Auckland. A local photographer had been granted permission to photograph the Prince, and, in due course, puvsented himself with his camera. His nervousness was painful to witness, but he managed to stammer out that he would require an exposure for a certain number of seconds. "Very well," replied the Duke. And then the photographer got to work. The seconds — which seemed like minutes to him — flew by, and, at last, with a sigh of relief, he said, "Thank you, sir." The Royal bitter, however, only smiled, as he said "Excuse me, but I don't think you took the cap off!" He was right, and the process had to be gone through once more — this time correctly.

Wellington has a citizen ot spotless lepute, who is. nevertheless, congratuatmg himself on being outside gaol. He pathetically tells the tale "I work very late at night sometimes, and recently changed my 'diggings.' You know the house, No. 2 Terrace? It is just like all the other houses in the row, and Ido not drink. Well, Mrs. p said she would leave the latchkey in the door, so that I could get in without waking the other boarders up. I got to the house, right enough, still mentally balancing my books, found the key, and entered. ♦ • * "I took my boots off, strolled into the dining-room had a drink out of the decanter on the sideboard, and rested. I looked up wearily at the walls, but, instead of the picture of my landlady's dear defunct great grandfather, there was a blue and green abomination, in wool. Although I am a teetotaller, I declare I thought I 'had 'em.' I got my boots on quietly again, and went out into the freezing night. Next door the same key, in the same kind of door, and home at last! Casually, a few days later I spoke to a resident of the next house, who told me of the midnight visit of a burglax, who had taken nojohing but a little whisky. Ever since then the man on the beat has had a keen eye on the premises, but, as far as I have heard, no further 'burglary' has eventuated." # Truth is stranger than fiction, and the following is the stranger of the two A rather pompous personage, vino occupies a fairly high position in life, but who seems to lack the ability to keep the dollars together, came under the public eye a while back, and a pressman was sent to get half or three-quartois of a column of the gentleman's biography. He received the reporto! with characteristic politeness, was amiability itself, and, after a refresher, he condescendingly said he w ould write the article himself, and send it in This was thankfully agreed to, and the gentleman kept his word, setting out a

The Commonwealth election tales are still cropping up, and this is one of the crop. An attempt was bezng made to prove bribery and Hodge was being questioned. ''One ot the gentlemen says to me, says he, 'Hodge, you must vote for the Conservatives," so I says, 'How much?' " "And what did he say?" "He didn't say nothin'. Then the other gentleman comes to me and says, 'You must vote for the Liberal, Hodge.' " "And what did you answer ?" "I said, 'How much ?' so he a&ked me what the other gentleman offered, and I told him five shillings." "And what did the Liberal gentleman do?" "He gave me ten." "Did you vote for the Liberals?' "No." "Did you vote for the Tories?" "No, I ain't got a vote."

concise lustory of his career, which was duly printed. On the day after publication he sent a bill to the flabbergasted editor for the contribution, and casually remarked that a cheque would oblige. Well, a cheque was sent, the editor in his return asking for a receipt. This was duly forwarded, and now adorns one of the office walls. • * • A member of the Palmerston, North Fire Brigade has lately become stricken with the photographic craze. The other morning an alarm of fire was given, and the said fireman turned out as usual, but, instead of assisting his comrades to save life and property, the amateui photographer, who, it may be mentioned, follows the occupation of a moulder of iron, thought it would be an excellent chance to add to his limited knowledge of the fine art, so, placing his camera in position, he calmly waited for a, flame to make its appearance, in order to secure a snap-shot! He> has been so chaffed and worried concerning Jus eccentricity that he is not likely to repeat the experiment. ♦ • • At least one individual had the honour of shaking hands with "the Dook" without having to go through the trying ordeal (vide Hatnck) of an official presentation to His Royal Highness. That person was none other than little Georgie Lett, whose cast-iron features and dwarf stature are as well-known as Wellington as the Post Office clock. Georgie is now living up-country. and, llko the proverbial bad penny, turns up at everything that is going on, and generally manages to have his frontispiece included m the snap-shots. After the laying of the foundation stone the son and heir to the British throne espied George, clad in liis khaki suit, and this youthful curiosity so appealed to the humour of the Duke, that his Highness stepped down from the stand, and shook hands with Georgie, who, of course, returned the compliment by saluting His Royal Highness in his own original style.

They work the game all ways. A dressy individual, of attractive appearance, called at a Terrace house the other afternoon, and asked the household fairy if her master was home yet. She replied that he did not usually leave town before five o'clock. "Oh, but he lias a private appointment here with Mr. (say) Sniggers at four thirty, and I wanted to see them. Has Mr. Sniggers called?" "No." "Oh, well, I'll look in a little later." Not long after the young man disappeared Mr. Sniggers made his appearance, and told the trustful maid who he was, and said he would wait for her master. Shown into the front room, he speedily cleared it of everything of value, opened the door, and disappeared. The thieving pair had evidently watched the house, and started operations when they saw the family leave for their afternoon promenade. * • ♦ The Modern Girl. She can talk on evolution, She can proffer a solution For each problem that besets the modern brain , She can punish old Beethoven Or she dallies with De Koven, Till the neighbours file petitions and complain. She can paint a crimson cowboy, Or a purple madder ploughboy, That you do not comprehend but must admire : And in exercise athletic It is really quite pathetic To behold the other maidens all retire. She is up in mathematics, Engineering, hydrostatics, In debate with her for quarter you will beg; She has every trait that's charming, With an intellect alarming, Yet she cannot— oh, she cannot — fry an egg! « * • The inventive Yankee has given the world a new burglar-killing appliance, and the Bill Sykes fraternity may be confidently expected to disappear when they hear of it. It is a revolver with a search-light attachment, which will enable you to make good shooting at midnight marauders. This reads beautifully Presumably, all one has to do is to have a revolver and electric battery in bed, turn on the current, and hop lightly out in search of that burglar. You will carry the storage battery in your pocket, or have a coil hooked on to the bedroom light. With the battery in one hand, and the revolver in the other, you will chase that burglar, and, provided the store of electricity is in good working order, eventually kill your man, if he has not shot you, by means of a bull's-eye lantern and a common "gun." beforehand.