Kandom Notes

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 39, 23 December 1893, Page 9

Kandom Notes

“ The compliments of the season, my masters !” is the most tit ting introduction to my notes and jottings for the current week. By the time this sheet comes before the public “ mirth and jollity ” will be the order of the day. The busy housewife will have laid in her stock of plums, spices, &c., towards the production of the Christmas pudding, that dish so delightful yet so indigestible ! The butcher and the baker, to say nothing of the grocery-man, will assist the lieges in preparing- the way for increasing the demand for the services of the medical fraternity. Such, at any rate, was our method of procedure last year, and as Carlyle somewhere says we are the creatures of habit, there is every reason to believe that such will also be our course of conduct in the Christmas of this year of grace 1893. In the old world, with its frosts and snows, long nights, and biting cold, there is some reason for the gormandising and “ wine and wassail ” which prevails at the season storms,” says the old saw. But here, in our bright southern land, with the heat eighty or ninety degrees in the shade, one has but little inclination to indulge in a steaming cut of the roast beef of Old England, and then thereafter submit to the further torture of consuming unlimited supplies of mince pies, and fare of equally powerful nightmare-producing tendencies. But we must keep up the good old customs ! So,, with a huge sigh, and a request that the necessary supply of pills, «fec., be laid instore, I submit to the inevitable ! It is gratifying to see that our popular and excellent Garrison Band intend to utilise the Rotunda on Christmas Eve, while this evening the equally energetic City Guards’ Band will discourse sweet music from the same platform. Will they- permit me to make a suggestion ? Could it

be arranged that a special seat and desk be provided, the latter duly furnished with full score of each, selection, with pencils and othep writing requisites ? These, if supplied, would doubtless enable some of our local fastidious musical critics to elaborate yet another of those masterly critiques, . and thus furnish material for yet another batch of letters “to the editor,” which during this (politically) dull season are classed among the blessings almost divine, and give so much food for reflection to the readers of our dailybroadsheets.

Matters political are dull —dull as ditch water, and as malodorous. That petition of “ pleasing aspect ” and Cheviot affairs likewise, are now flat, stale, and unprofitable, and the hopes of a summer session are of the remotest character. “ Dissensions in the Cabinet,” even when looming large as a cross-heading, fail to cause a ripple on the placid surface of our easy-going daily life. What can the matter be P Gan it be that our Dictatorial Richard has lulled us to a pleasing sleep of fancied security ? Or are we struck dumb with sorrow and amaze at the extinction of Her Majesty’s Opposition ? Or is it the cabn before the storm ? Be the silence what it may, let us enjoy it and be duly thankful that our rulers are sufficiently generous to permit us to pass our holiday season iu peace. The following note will, I doubt not, at this season ox peace and goodwill, commend itself to the majority of those who honour me by weekly perusing this column. The writer, “ Shopman,” has my hearty sympathy, for not infrequently have I seen the evils of which he complains. Hood’s “ Song of the Shirt” effected a reform in its day. We want another Hood in these more civilised times to bring- about a change in our methods of shopping, to the infiniteadvantage of those young men and women who, behind the counter, so cheerfully minister to our wants Dear Vox, —I can say that I have been a constant reader of the Southess Cuoss from the start, and your notes have frequently caught my attention. As yon seem desirous of amending the failings (due to heedlessness) of our citizens, I may well appeal to you on behalf of a longsuffering- class —the shopkeepers’ assistants. Their lot is never, at the best, a happy one, but at the holiday season it is much more to be pitied than envied. “ Afternoon shopping,” the delight of Invercargill ladies, is far indeed from being delightful tothose who wait upon them. How often do a couple of ladies enter to select a suitable piece of dress material, to purchase some ribbons or lace, or even with the object of securing a suitable gift for some gentleman friend! " Each of those objects is certainly praiseworthy. But, after the counter has been jfiled moantains high with goods of all kinds, how cheerful it is to hear the angelic voices exclaim, “We’ll call again !” Then, sailing out of the door, our lady friends leave the poor salesman tospend a luckless half hour (or more) in putting away the goods so vainly displayed, while the frowns of “ The boss ” are a silent reproof for sales uneffected. Cannot this evil of so-called shopping he lessened or removed ? In almost all the shops in town the goods are sufficiently well displayed to allow any visitor to examine them without unduly taxing {the attendants. Cannot, too, the ladies be honest, and say they do not intend to purchase, but wish merely to see and price the goods ? Room there is for improvement, and that the ladies will “ tak’ a thoucht an’ mend,” is the sincerewish of a Shopman.

Seasonable enjoyment rather than scribbling 1 these notes is to be desired at this part of the year, .and lam sure my readers will not this week complain of brevity on my part. Therefore, as I began, so also will ! close, by wishing to all my readers* old and yonng, gentle and simple—- “ A Mjsrhie Christmas.”