CURRENT TOPICS.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 472, 17 May 1890, Page 4

CURRENT TOPICS.

BY ZAMIEL. One of the most deplorable amongst the signs of the times is the frequent absenc e of gallantry amongst our youth of the male sex. It is seen everywhere, and whether it be the outcome of the labour competition between the two sexes or the fault of early training, it is pitiable in the extreme. No quality is more redeem Ing or admirable in a boy or man ( than a gentle deference to and consideration for the gentler sex. Show me such a lad, and I will show you a boy who will be a credit to his parents and to himself in the future. On the other hand it is the boy whose hat remains glued to his head when he acknowledges a lady, or who keeps his seat in a tramcar, or indeed anywhere, whose future is associated with the larrikin class and who will never be a credit to anyone.

An episode which happened in one of the tramcars from town last Saturday afternoon is responsible for these reflections. The car was crowded, and twothirds of those seated were men. It i 3 not in evidence that there was a gentleman in the crowd. An elderly lady of quiet demeanour entered the car, and one or two of those who had already given up their seats looked around expect ing some one would rise. Not a soul responded to the mute appeal in the cause ot gallantry. Every one of the fellows gazed wistfully out of the windows, and not one pretended he saw the lady. There were two boys in a corner, and they, too, following the example of the men, stuck to their seats like leeches. One gentleman who was standing himself interfered so far as to request the boy to Bise and make way for the lady, but he was rharply set upon by the boy’s mother, whose vinegar countenance and peppery voice caused him to retire crestfallen. Then the conductor was appealed to, and he remarked that “ he was blowed if it was his business to get seats for females. Perhaps they would not sit in them if he did.'’ And so "the lady had to stand for a good part of the journey, while nearly a dozen men and two cubs of boys sat stolidly in their seats, and brazened it out. The future of those boys would be worth watching.

The morality of our New Zealanders in regard to the public purse has hardly yet recovered from the undermining influences of the times of big borrowing. The latesi instance of laxity comes from the Thames, which hasfurnishedquitea number of moving instances. There an official connected with the water service of the borcugh has for nearly a year been receiving pay at the rate of lOs a week for his son, a lad ol 13 or 14 years of age, while the said son has been in constant attendance at the Thames High School and School of Mines during the whole period. Probably the lad has been doing some little work morning ana evening for the pay, but that it was of sufficient importance to justify the payment he received, it is absurd to believe. *** * * * # * * Tom Collins is not dead after all. He is in Wellington, where he had an experience which is thus related by one of the local napers: young man who entered the bar was gravely assured by the person at the back thereof that she had been told by 4 Tom Collins ’ that he (the visitor) was to be prosecuted for embezzlement, and added, in answer to a question, that Collins was upstairs. A few seconds later the victim arrived on the next floor, and, choosing the least pugnaciouslooking man in the room, asked him whether he was ‘Tom Collins.’ The individual addressed replied, in a moment of waggery, that he was, and was thereupon requested to ‘take’ something. He took it, and it developed into a bad black eye. The assault case will be heard next week. ’ * * * * •* * * * * Who shall say that the age of romance is dead, and who shall say there is no virtue in advertisement ? One of my lady friends, a somewhat giddy damsel of tends! years and mischievous habits, boasts of bavingcaused ' a vast amount of talk and speculation in Auckland during the last week. Looking over some papers from the Old Country, she espied avery quairitadvertisement. She cut it out carefully, and altering the names of the streets, sent it bo the Star. It ran as follows: —“Gentleman who bowed to girl in white dress and chip hat at the corner of Queen and Wellesley-streets the other afternoon. Would you like to know me ? I fear you will despise me for this, bub no one can know but you and I in all the world, and I will trust you. I have such a miserable and lonely life. I have seen you so long—years now—and you take a little interest in me, I think. I want a friend so badly, too.—Y., Star Office.” Of course everyone noticed it immediately, and a nice sniffing and turning up of noses it caused in old maidenly parlours. Meanwhile Miss Y. gigglingiy waited for the answers, * * * -X- -H• -1! They began to arrive next day. About every other fellow in Auckland would appear to have bowed to a girl he had never spoken to at the corner of Queen and Wellesley-streets that afternoon. Several of them admitted not having noticed what the lady they bowed to wore, but they all had wanted to know her for years—and remembered bowing to some one on the occasion quite distinctly. Others were specific. One taxed the mythical charmer with having kept him so long waiting.

“How is it," he asks, “that you have left it so long, and have been so abashed in expressing your sentiments, the sentiments of* your mind? Surely, you must have noticed the one who cared so much for you haying saluted you so often, and when I have passed you so frequently in Queen-street, and if you felt so inclined to join correspondence with me I should think you would have interested yourself more to try and meet me in any place you may mention where we can talk together and there make our future arrangements for our future prospects.” The letter, which concludes with a request for an answer if “ Y.” “thinks anything of it,” is signed “ A.H.” v

There is some mystery here. Poor A. H. is certainly in love with some one whom he meets often in Queen-street. Only a man who has the blissful fever very bad could be responsible for such a truly wonderful piece of composition. But who is the girl? Perhaps this will bring her to his trusty sine. How his faithful heart must have thumped the next time he mother, and when she passed by without making any sign how puzzled he must have been. Perhaps he spoke to the girl, ho must have noticed his love, and got well snubbed for his pains. The next letter I sort out from the pile is from a disogenuous youth signing himself A.B.C.

He, too, has evidently an affaire de cceur j with some lady whom heonlyknows bysight. | He says : “ Of course I take an interest in < you. You must have seen that. It is always a pleasuie bo do what one can for you. Write to mo, making a scroll, thus — (here follows a drawing of something between a weary wombat and an elderly seagull), .and make an appointment. We can then meet, and if I can help you ” After the manner of folk who write love letters the swain then lapses into versification, concluding his note thusly— I have the honour to be Your own true A.B.C. If that girl is walking about Queen- street now she should fly right into the arms of her mysterious admirer. * * ■# * * ** * * The next I pick out comes from a gentleman who seems a bit mixed as to what trade he really does belong to. He remembers bowing on the night named. Here is his effusion : “I fancy lam the person referred to. I remember bowing bo a young lady, whom I have seen so often that I feel as though we were friends, but I am greatly desirous of making her acquaintance. I don’t remember how she v/as dressed, but 1 am almost sure she wore a white dress. I hope you are the lady I have seen so often. In re myself, I am a commercial traveller representing a Sydney firm of publishers. I expect bo travel a good deal soon, and should like to make your acquaintance before leaving Auckland. If lam not the one you mean, please pardon me, and if I should know you, remember I will never mention what has taken place between us. lam strictly trustworthy. I should like to see your photo. I have nob one of mine, or I should enclose it in this letter. My time is entirely my own, and I can meet you any time you wish —With kindest regards and respects, I remain your unknown friend, M., G P. 0.” * * # -* * * A visiting card is enclosed. I am afraid Mr M is a bold bad man, or has he, too, a mash whom he has never yet addressed' but really wants to know. *** * * * * * * Here is the next. The writer is weilknown in Auckland, and was indiscreet enough to sign his full name, which, in consideration for his friend, I won’t give “My dear ‘ Y,’ —I only saw your advertisement to-day, and it certainly surprised me a little. I have bad a presentiment lately that we should know one another, and have been wondering how the happy event would be brought about, when now you solve the difficulty at one bold step. You will be a little interested, and perhaps a little shocked when you hear my history, bub I will trust you with everything, and count on your sympathy. If you could manage to meet me at the foot of the Arcade stairs, at 12.15t0-morrow (Friday), we could repairbo my office, and mutually unburden our souls". Trusting to see you and knowing you will keep secrecy.”

Oh, the deceitfulness of men. My young friend declares this fellow has been engaged six months. * * * * * ■* * * “J. C.” is honest. He says he is probably nob the one, bub he is lonely too, and would like to meet the mythical wearer of the chip hat. He evidently wants to get married : “ I read your advertisement, and although nob the gentleman in question I felt my heart go out towards you in your loneliness, and being single and in a position to help and comfort you, should much like to receive a letter from you, making an appointment to meet me in strict honour and confidence on both sides. I will keep any meeting you may appoint, but do kindly make it very definite as to exact time and place. Whilst wishing you every blessing, happiness, and comfort in the future.” ■if -Jf * * * * * * * “ J.C.” asks for an answer at the Auckland P.O. He is evidently a rather good sort, and any girl who hasn’t got a mash 0; who wants another string to her bow, might do worse than drop him a line. There are nob many men who are willing to help and comfort lriendless girls. There is an air of good feeling about “ J.C.’s” note which pleases me—l don’t know why. He seems sincere.

Here is another young man, probably a foreigner, for be addresses my friend as “ mademoiselle,” and is certainly modest but trusting. He commences : “Your graceful and pathetic advertisement was so full of heart that I could not help but be struck with it. You say ‘afternoon.’ What do they call afternoon here? I, in coming out of Wellesley-street into Queen-street, bowed to a young lady of most beautiful features, but I had nob time bo notice whether she had a chip hat. I think she was in whi.be. But this was at night, and I begged pardon for nearly stumbling over her in my hurry. I think it could hardly be me you saw, and if anyone had noticed me for years, why, how strange I should nob be told ! If lam not he, and should you be unsuccessful, plea- se let me repay you, for the advertisement or advertisements ; as it will be so unfortunate for your money to be thrown away, and no generous friendly reply either. lam not putting my real name, as I may not be the one, though I am your friend, anyhow. Excuse me using the name of my Norman ancestor, and believe me to remain, most sincerely yours, L. Fitz-Ralph. ToMis3‘Y.’”

* * * * * ■* * ■» * My friend desires me to say chat if Mr Fitz-Ralph will leave 10s 6d at this office she will be much obliged. A promise is a promise, especially when you have Norman ancestors.

I am not allowed to give more letters, but my young friend desires me to state that she has a dozen or so of letters from the gilded youth of Auckland, and several of them are in the handwriting of men who have been trying to impress on her for the last month or so that she is the only girl I they could ever love. She is not in an amiable mood. I can answer for that. Several of her best young men appear to have fallen into the trap and proved how lickle is man’s regard. They may expect a decidedly cool reception next time they call to pay their respects. • * * # * * It is remarkable to the hard-headed and hearted male creature what interesting' little romances ladies can weave out of a few trifling facts. The above rather trite remark is suggested to me by an interesting little story told me the other day concerning a young friend of mine. He was up country some eighteen months ago, and while there, made the acquaintance of a buxom young lady, with whom he got on the affectionate terms common when a young man has few amusements in a small country place. Everybody decided that it was to be a match. But my friend left without taking: the young lady with him : and she did not contradict a rumour that j he had been jilted, in fact rather encouraged ! I it. The rumour came to the ear 3 'of the young man, through his brothers sister’s

brother’s wife. One day, about six months lifter, he met the young lady accidentally outside a shop in Queen-street, and after a preliminary remark or two said, i “Now Miss , I’ve got a crow to pluck with you. That was a nice little story ” Bub he was suddenly interrupted with “ Hush, for Heaven’s sake: here comes my husband.” Thus the old order changetb. * -* * *** * * * “ Rats !” That was what a dreadful small boy yelled into a heavily-laden Parnell’bus toiling up Manukau Road past the Parnell School the other afternoon, just as the youngsters were being liberated from • their classes. TII9 yell was accompanied by what was apparently a huge and ferocious rat, which was slung in by the neck by the aforesaid small boy. Tire ’bus was full of ladies, mostly young,—with one solitary young man in the corner, and the scene that followed was very funny. Every girl jumped up on the seat, or tried to, tucked her skirts in close, and screamed in an ear-splitting falsetto. The whole bevy of beauties were preparing to faint when the driver stopped, and ran round to ascertain what the row was. When he drew forth a harmless-looking kitten, as scared looking as the ladies, from under the seat, the look of disgust on his face wa9 something to witness. Those fair ladies didn’t mention rats, cats or kittens tor the rest of the journey. *** * * * Hr * * Commendable are the suggestions, and worthy of extended application the proposals recently adopted by the City Council upon the recommendation of the Library Committee. Each Councillor appears eager to pose as the representative who curtails expenditure, and as each succeeding elec- ' ion brings in fresh men, the result is a continual docking of the salaries of the officials. Some months ago the Library Committee submitted a voluminous eiiusion dealing with the probable income and likewise, in beautiful and systematic detail, the minimum expenditure for management. So far as the salaries and the suggestions for dismissals are concerned, it is pleasing bo note that the majority of our civic ornaments were at one with their brethren on the Library Committee. Of course, it is hard t r officials who remain when others are dismissed,as it increases their labours; but it is yet more so when added duties also follow reduced salary. Still, I suppose the remaining should be thankful for small mercies, in that they were not discharged. The recommendations of the Committee are so drastic that one fails to reconcile the utility of calling for tenders for six months’ supply of literature for the Library. Why should not the term be for 12 months, and who is most likely to benefit by the change ? It would appear that a man might supply literature cheaper by the year than if he only had the contract for six months. Then also it would save advertising a second time.

Another point is that the Council in a fit of generosity with ratepayers’ property of course—has wasted a means of income, namely, the ground rent of the old library site which is now used by the Jubilee Kindergarten. Zamiel has nob a word to say against this action, only there is the unpleasant feeling that the employees of the Library are really paying for the Kindergarten to have the free use of the old library site, seeing that they are reduced in order to make the income sufficient. Perhaps it did nob strike the astute members of the Committee to add a clause “Thatthe amount (ascertained rateable value of theo'd library building) be credited to the Library account, and a charge on the general account.” It wa3 the whole Council that was generous, and nob the Library Committee alone. Then again, in a place where ladies are constant visitors, surely it must have slipped the mind of members of the Committee that for various reasons it is well that there should be female as well as male assistants. The usages of civilised life ought to have impressed upon the Committee the fitness of allowing one lady attendant to furnish information not to be gleaned from the pages of the catalogue.

Zamiel is fond of flowers, and consequently he makes a point of visiting all horticultural exhibitions. Therefore he was present at the late Chrysanthemum Show. Jove! there were some fine girls there, too, the very flowers of society in this city. I was much struck by the various styles in which the patrons of horticultural shows examined the fine specimen flowers spread out for their edifica tion. There was the cool connoisseur whose estimate of merit was general perfection. Then there was the “ big gooseberry ” patron, whose sole standard of excellence was size. No matter how hideous the colour, to him the best chrysanthemum was the one that was the nearest approach in size to a cabbage. Then there was one individual who evidently must have been in the vegetable line at some period of his existence, from the vigorous manner in which he seized large blooms and inverted them to see that there was no swindle in the matter. Ho did his work so thoroughly that Zamiel feels inclined to dub him the clumsily conscientious patron. Then there were also amateur gardeners, who book lists of the best varieties for future use.

What interested Zamiel most was to watch a class of visitors to whom flowers were evidently no attraction. This may sound rather strange, but I simply judge of their feelings by their conduct. They belonged to the fashionable class, and we:e consequently well dressed. It seemed as if they had come'out to see and be seen. Scarce one glance was cast upon the floral beauties scattered around them. These butterflies of fashionable life simply promenaded until they grew tired, and then quietly got chairs and sat down ; nob in some retired corner, but, forsooth, with their backs towards the very flowers which presumably they had paid to come in and look at. The x-esult of such conduct was that those who came to see the chrysanthemums had the pleasure of gazing at the insipid faces of a lot of giggling idiots, devoid alike of taste for floral beauties and ordinary good manners. Just in the same senseless manner, this class of persons congregate in groups at art exhibitions, and prevent others from seeing the pictures.

“And things are not what they seem.” Thus writes Longfellow in his Psalm of Life, and Zamiel, though not a poet, still thoroughly agrees with the sentiment. The truth of this line was exemplified in a peculiar manner one afternoon' recently. An expressman was engaged to deliver a sack of potatoes at a house in the city, and was asked to carry them into the cellar. This he readily consented to do, and had nearly got rid of his load, when, snap went his leg, and as Bland Holt used to sing, “ Over Went the Show.” The sad accident was witnessed by a young lady who let out a sympathetic scream, and looked as if very little wo.u.ld cause her to faint. Suddenly, however, the expression on her face changed. §orro\yful sympathy

changed to mirthful laughter. Positive fact! Poor man: there he sat on the ground, his leg broken, and his foot dangling by a few shreds, so severe was the fracture. Still, he did not appear to suffer much pain, for, presently, he bent forward, pulled off his foot, and quietly hopped back to his cart, remarking, “ That's the second time I’ve broke that ’ere wooden leg of mine.”