Random Notes.

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 45, 3 February 1894, Page 9

Random Notes.

I doubt not that many of my readers are, like myself, careful perusers of the contributions of my esteemed and estimable fellowcontributor, Mr W. H- Mathieson, whose lengthening series of articles on his trip to Mankee-land furnishes so many proofs of that gentleman’s powers of original observation. I fear friend M. (to use the Buxfconian method of abbreviation) has allowed himself to be caught tripping in his last week’s lucubration upon the “ Woman ” question in the land of the Stars and Stripes. According to Mr M. the American ladies are lacking in the “bloom” of beauty, and “modesty, that most precious gift;” while he further tells us that in Chicago he was “ surprised and disgusted at their rude behaviour,” and affirms that “ the treatment they (i.e., the ladies) receive is the outcome of their conduct.” In America Woman’s Rights have been long and ardently advocated, and Mr M.’s testimony informs us that there these principles have made greatest progress, and the women, rapidly filling many professions, are driving the young men to the wall. Evidently the fact that woman has been “ dressing like young men,” and “ forcing herself Eito a hundred and one occupations,” from which she has ousted the “ deposed lord,” of whom a young lady sometime ago wrote .so feelingly in these columns, is, to a not inconsiderable extent, the cause of the rudeness of treatment of the American woman in her native land which Mr W. H. M. deplores ! After drawing so sad a picture of lack of courtesy to the feminine world of America, our traveller makes a complete change of front, anp straightway lauds in detail what he strongly, in the mass, condemns. While woman's invasion of trade has lessened her modesty and well nigh destroyed the respect in which her sex is held by man, thereby causing a deterioration in the male character, yet her presence in one branch of trade (i.e., an offices generally) “ has a softening effect and likewise “ makes the clerks and those interviewing them more careful of their language.” From the examples furnished by Mr M. of the street-car scene, one would very naturally come to the opposite conclusion, and it would certainly clear up a difficulty of bv no means small dimensions were Mr M. to explain this anomaly which his latest lucubration suggests, viz., that deterioration of public manners can be synchronous with improvement of manners in private, and further, that the Americanising of our colonial institutions is a consummation devoutly to be wished.

The following communication from a son of the soil (which I have taken the liberty to somewhat condense) speaks for itself. I fear, however, that I cannot suggest a remedy to mv correspondent, and it is hard to tell Idm of the irrevocable law of supply and demand. There is possibly room for tl c local farmers starting a produce agency on their own account, and possibly, 100, support to a local dairy factory might improve matters : “ Dear Yox, —I wonder how many Invercargill folks think of the troubles of the poor farmer when sitting down each morning to their breakfast supply of toast and butter ? Do they look up the weekly price-list and find that the prices are something like 5d wholesale and 7d retail per lb for this product

of the dairy—if possibly net even less. No wonder there is a drift of people to the town and a cry of the unemployed raised in the land. Fivepence per pound to the producer! for his infinite toil, and . twopence to the middle-man —4O per cent, profit—for but tivice handling the product! Verily the methods of trade are wonderful ! The farmer’s work is never done. From early morn, rising much before the lark does, till late at night, long after the city toiler has ceased his eight hours’ task, does the farmer and his family spend their energies, and all for Jive pence per pound ! Such remuneration will scarcely keep the farmer’s offspring in shoe-leather, let alone satisfy the claims of the over-fed mortgagee and the demands of the Land Department. What can we do to remedy this state of affairs ? Yours, Cockatoo.”

“ In the spring a young man’s fancy,” &c., is a quotation so well known that I may permit my readers of both sexes to complete the line. Evidently the fancy of one local young man (who is rather hard hit, I fancy) has been well employed during the past month, as the recent high winds have borne to my coign of vantage a sheet with which the elements have dealt sufficient leniently to enable mo to decypher the following lines. They certainly possess sufficient poetical merit to be honoured with a corner in this column. There is unfortunately a hiatus in the M.S. in the last line of each verse. Members of the male persuasion who may be slightly affected can supply any name that suits their present fancy—Annie, Bessie, Clara, and so on x-ight through the alphabet. The original document I shall carefully preserve, and shall surrender to the rightful owner ou his proving identity and establishing his claimMeanwhile, for the instruction of Southeen Ceoss readers, here are the lines : For light was my heart when in summer’s gay morning, I rode midst bright scenes, happy, thoughtless and free, Entranced by the lair flowers the meadows adorning, And sweet music found in the hum of the bee. Now to me there’s no charm in the verdure of summer, Nor mirth in The murmuring brooklet so clear, T bewail my sad fortune—dejected and weary, And I beg for the time when my is near. The sun in the heavens shines not ever unclouded, For oft does the storm-cloud his brightness obscure, When in gloom and dread silence all Nature is shrouded, And the elements rage, filled with purpose impure. But the storms of the South may rage in their madness, And spread devastation o’er mountain and moor. In the arms of my darling I know naught of sadness, I heed not their fury when is near. Fair summer soon ends, and the flowerletsbe shattered, The scar leaf of Autumn falls withered at last ; And dead and forsaken, oncc-bright leaves are scattered, Driven “helplessly on by the cold wintry blast. When my season of summer towards life’s winter doth languish, For the cold of the grave I shall have not a fear; The grim King’s approach I shall view without anguish, And Death lose his terrors if is near. Last week, I fear, Iwa somewhat premature in lauding our Italian skies and tropical climate, for ere my remarks were up in type, certainly before the ink upon the sheets was dry, we were suddenly removed many degrees nearer the Icy Pole, and blasts, rude as those of Northern Boreas, were thundering in our ears. Here, in the instability of the weather, have we had another proof that “ Man never is, but always to be, blest.” We were all of us utterly dissatisfied with the sultry summer skies that glared overhead, and longed for the softly falling shower. But when the rain descended and beat upon us we still uttered the querulous ' language of complaint, and would not be satisfied. Neither King Log nor King Stork will satisfy us, and hence, doubtless, our weather prophets provide us with these assorted samples of weather which during the past week have fallen to our lot ! Vox.