PASSING NOTES.

Otago Witness, Issue 4033, 30 June 1931, Page 3

PASSING NOTES.

Mr Hoover, withholding the bailiff, postpones the day of reckoning. The non-presentation of the bills comes as a relief for 12 months to the embarrassed debtors of Europe. Germany’s parlous financial straits seem to be the deciding factor in Uncle Sam’s decision. America turned the scales when Germany appeared to be in the ascendant before, and she now comes forth in a counter role. It is pretty generally admitted that our American cousins sit on the box seat, handle both ribbons and whip, and drive the unpampered jades of Europe, at whatever pace they care. There is a limit, however, to the endurance of the Teuton horse, which evinced unmistakable symptoms of foundering. As present day conditions resulted from Armageddon, it is reasonable to suppose that only a move on a parallel scale can be a specific for a complete cure. Coupled with the President’s offer are conditions in respect to armaments. Writes Sir Herbert Samuel in a recent statement on the brighter side of things: sßeason has be<nin to come into her own. It was Athene, the Goddess of Wisdom, who, in the Homeric story, attacked and wounded the God of War, “Ares, the blood-stained bane

of mortals,” and drove him from the field.

Financial critics say that Mr Hoover .- gesture is not entirely altruistic, bu’ that is not to be expected. The morn toriuni will, in the long run, benefit tin giver. Mr Hoover is familiar with his Ecclesiastes. “ The bread cast upon the waters shalt be found after many days.”

We shall soon have the exciting amusement of a general election, a triple-sided contest; the Reform Party (more appropriately termed the Rejected Party), the self-styled United Party (though what it is united to, or for, or by, or with is not quite clear), and the Labour Party will enter the lists armed cap-a-pie. The leader of the Labour Parly already announces that he has forty candidates in the field, a number that aptly sug gests the predatory reputation of Ali Baba and his two score thieves. Do we electors take the election seriously? If the following story is any criterion, there is reason to suppose that a serin comic clement is not absent.

The popular candidate died the day before the election. He was buried on election day and his obsequies attended by a large number of his political followers. On proceeding to the polling booths subsequently, they discovered that the candidate's name was still on the voting paper. They resolved to have a meeting to discuss what was to be done. Were they to strike out the name of their friend? One speaker thought that, out of compliment to his widow, they ought to vote for him; another, not quite so sentimental, thought that in any case the candidate would not have a leg to stand on. Another interjected to the effect that in such case if he hadn’t a leg to stand on there was all the more reason why he should retain his seat. It was then recollected that their candidate would not vote for increased taxation. That was decisive, and they one and all went to the polls and returned their deceased friend by a large majority.

As a result of that election there was one dead head only returned to office; in New Zealand, however, onr may conjecture that a good many dead heads or (funder heads may be elected.

The death of Lord Trent, domiciled within the Island of Jersey, and the announcement that the British Treasury will derive no benefit from his millions, draws fresh attention to this favoured isle. Sheltered “ within the sleeve,” the Channel Islands apparently afford a safe immunity to the pocket. These islands are not part of the United King-' dom, but they are included in His Majesty’s Dominions and form part of the British Islands. They are portion of the old Duchy of Normandy; in fact, the only portion still subject to the Crown. The English Statute Law would seem not to run there unless specially so directed. The taxing officer is an unpopular personage at any and all times, but residence in Jersey warrants some degree of security. What the inner workings of the revenue system are and how far the hands of Somerset House reach across the waters it is not easy to state. Lady Houston compounded the duty claims as to her husband’s estate in her well-known interview with the head of the Exchequer in propria persona Mr Churchill emerged from the engagement with complaisance writ large on ins face and a cheque for half a million in his satchel. The official conscience had been amply placated.

An accomplished daughter of Dunedin has been exhibiting her handicraft, a salon of splendid canvases. Among them are examples of the art of portraiture,

the suggestion of character and temperament by colour and deft touch of the brush. Palette and camel-hair are not ■i sine qua non for the representation of outward lineament and semblance; 'here is the imagery of words also. One is reminded of this faculty in reading a thumbnail sketch of Dickens by one of his literary contemporaries—

He is a fine little fellow—Boz, 1 think. Clear blue, intelligent eyes, eyebrows that he arches amazingly, large protrusive rather loose month, a face of most extreme mobility, ‘which he shuttles about—eyebrows, eyes, mouth and all —in a very singular manner while speaking. Surmount this with a loose coil of common-coloured hair, and set it on a small, compact figure, very small, and dressed a la D'Orsay rather than well —that is Pickwick. For the rest a quiet, 'shrewd-looking, little fellow, who seems to guess pretty well what he is and what others are.

Not a day passes but motorists are summoned before magistrate or justices for breaking the speed limit. In .Christchurch this week an insurance company sought to deprive a motorist of his license in that he was a menace to life and property by his reckless driving While insurance companies may become self-appointed trustees for the populace at large, one presumes that the proceedings were really in the nature of an ordinary business precaution. It is surprising how estimates of the speed of motor vehicles vary.

Oue M'Taggart was motoring along the Donnybrook road at no inconsiderable rate. When the police stopped the car to take name and address they announced that the measured mile had been covered in a minute and a half. “ How many milrs an hour is that?” queried M'Taggart. “We won’t mind that.” said the sergeant, taking out his notebook. Oh, that's all very well,” said M'Taggart, “but I am entitled to know at what rate I was travelling.” “ Come up here, James,” said the sergeant to hist constable, “ and we'll work this out.” The constable’s laboured calculations covered two pages of his notebook, and in the result showed a speed of four miles an hour. “Ridiculous!” said the sergeant. He would adopt his own - method of calculation. “ See here, now.” he said, “ye done the mile in a minute and a half. A mile a minute is sixty miles an hour; a mile in half a minute is thirty miles an hour; ye were driving thin ninety miles an hour. Give me your name and address.”

The scheme of the Arabian Nights is recalled in a recent biography of Sir Richard Burton. Almost everyone knows that the origin of this treasure house of tales emanated from the ingenious Scheherazade the Vizier’s daughter who stayed the king’s nightly holocaust of successive wives by stringing for him tale after tale. The charming raconteur might have welcomed incidents from Burton’s own life as useful additions to her stock. Burton’s pilgrimage to Mecca, his dis? covery of Lake Tanganyika, the wars in Paraguay, his consulship at Damascus and Trieste are only a few of the chapters available. Burton was somewhat of a Padishah himself, and was ever a wild creature. In restaurants he delighted to startle his neighbours by diabolical frowns and by rolling his eyes wildly.

Once, when' he ordered beefsteak and was served a small strip, he glared up at the waiter and remarked. “Yes, that’s it. Bring me some!” On another occasion he roared when brought a demitasse, and demanded, “What’s that?” “Coffee for one,” quavered the waiter. “ Bring me,” growled Burton, “Coffee for ten!”

The conventions of grammarians as to the punctilios of correct writing are as nothing to the rules in respect to the use of commas, colons, apostrophes, et hoc genus onine. A certain adherence used to be given to a manual on “ Stops ' by one Allardyce, the reading of which class of work would cause the late Andrew Lang vague disquietude in his literary lucubrations. It is refreshing, howsver, to' submit to acknowledged authority. The rules jointly laid down by authorities so high as Mr Horace Hart and Sir James A. H. Murray and Mr Henry Bradley in their “ Rules for Compositors and Readers at the University Press, Oxford,” should end the matter. Thei r first rule is, “ Use ’s for the possessive case in English names and surnames wherever possible.” Write, they say. “Augustus’s,” “Hicks’s,” “St. James's Square,” “ Jones’s,” “ Thomas’s,” and so on. They add that even in longer names the same possessive form is to be preferred—thus “ Theophilus’s ” is better than “ Theophilus’,” though here they allow the second form to be “ admissible.” They pronounce in favour of Mars's,” “ Zeus’s,” “ Venus’s,” and so forth. Crvis.