A WHITE AUSTRALIA.

Rangitikei Advocate and Manawatu Argus, Volume XXXIV, Issue 9366, 8 February 1909, Page 6

A WHITE AUSTRALIA.

HITS UP THE TOWN. Edgar M'Ooll, 6ft: high, broadshouldered, Jred-headed, and evidently “fit,’* sauntered downßourke street last evening, swaggering like Ancient Pistol, and making as much fnsa as a steam roller (says the Melbourne Age of recent date). As he progressed he smote bis right fist into the palm of his big left hand with a smack that sent the echoes flying. It was plain to all beholders that “Mao” wanted to let steam off. and soon a crowd of curious people followed on his walk. At the closed doors of the Opera House M’Ooll came to a ’sudden . stop, and as ha surveyed the life-sized colored picture of Tommy Burns that was displayed thereon, his red moustache bristled up in anger, and he began to talk excitedly. “I’m a wihte Australian, Tommy,” he shouted, “and I’m darn sorry 1 was not in your place. You lost your punch, Tommy, and were short of weight. This here is the way you should have hit the nigger.” M’Ooli’s big freckled fist shot out, and with a crash that sounded like a street collision, he had driven it Tommy Burns and right through the big front door, sending a panel flying into the entrance hall. “Then yon should have followed it with the left like this ” But at this juncture the entire destruction of the door was stayed by a constable, who pulled hint back just as the mighty left was posed for the deed. M’Ooll’s right hand was cut and dripping blood as he explained to Mr Fred Aydon, the Opera House manager, as well as to the constable and the crowd, that the only reason he bad for “busting in the door” was that be objected to the colored man winning the world’s championship. Mr Aydon, after giving him a lecture and remarking that though his “white Australia” sentiment might'be admirable, bis waste of energy was deplorable and expensive, allowed him to go without laying a charge against him. M’Ooll said he would go home, hut he changed his mind, and attended a meeting of the Coopers’ Society at the Trades Hall instead. There something cropped np in the business under discussion that did not please him, and he out loose again, and remarking that he would “take ’em all on,” threw off his ooat, vest, and shirt, and started off on a vigorous shadow spar that had the effect of clearing • a big space around him. Coopers are proverbially nimble, so that the saying used in boxing parlance, “danced around him like a cooper round a cask,” has become an established adage; but last night those coopers like—well, like* a cooper. Someone yelled to “throw him out.” M’Ooll jumped out into the vestibule, shouting that there were not enough men in the Trades Hall to do it. “I’ll heat the push of ye, one after the other,” be roared, but no one seemed anxious to become first victim. M’Ooll then drove his flat through the glass door, and as the jagged glass ripped open bis wrist the blood drenched the floor. At this stage two policemen arrived, and at the sight of them M’Oall , who at one time was a member of the force himself, became qniet and docile. “Oh, they’ve got a bit up their sleeve,” he observed. “I’m done. ” He was then removed to the Melbourne Hospital, where Dr. MaudeJDobson put twelve stitches in his lacerated wrist and fixed up his battered fist. No charge was laid against him.