THE WAYS OF THE WORLD.

Temuka Leader, Issue 1543, 10 August 1886, Page 2

THE WAYS OF THE WORLD.

Ido not like poor people. I was once poor myself, and since the* I have a standing quarrel with poverty. “ The poor shall be always with us.” “ Poverty is no crime,” I hav« hoard sleek-facsfi, thick-headed boors say. I dissent altogether, from this. Poverty is a crime. Just try it and see whether Morton will not “ vflg” you.

Moreover poverty is a disgrace. When I was poor no one cared a pinch of snuff whether I starved or not. Now—but I do not like ostentation. 1 once knew two young girls; one the daughter of a cobbler, who was so poor that her earlier days were spent barefooted ; the other was a real live gentleman’s daughter, who was nursed in the Jap of luxury. The cobbler’s daughter became rich, the gentleman’s daughter poor, in after life, and society coin ted the vulgar, ignorant, cobbler’s daughter, while it despised the refined and gentle lady. Moral—Don’t be poor.

What has set in motion this train of thought in ray brain is an article which appeared recently in the Lyttelton Times. The article to which J refer dealt with the unemployed of Christchurch in a manner that was sufficient to ratko one’s blood run cold. It did not call them loafers—in fiict, it pictured them ns hard-working men starving for want of employment—men who begged of their “ fellow worms to sive thsm leave to toil.” It did far worse, it ridiculed them; mads fun of them; cracked jokes at their expense ; in fact employed sickly, puoy, puerile wit to hold them up as objects to laugh at. Their personal appearances were caricatured, their bad grammar reproduced, %id their other little shortcomings ludicrously represented. Now, Hike wit and humor, but I hate, abominate, loathe Ae iran that employs them in making fun ef tho poor, or in ridiculing unfortunate men, ad milled ly on the verge of starvation owing to want.of employment. Brutal insensibility to human sufferisg oould not go beyond sitting down calmly and making fun of the starving poor. 1 emly wish I held the editorial lash oyer the back of the mean-spirited ereatnra who wrote that article. It was disgraceful, and few papers would have inserted it, but one might as well look for good taste from a pig wallowing in midsummer muck at frosn the Lyttelton Times.

Quintus Curtius, a fine, handsome young man, sacrificed his life by throwing himself Into a gulf to save Rome from ruin. This happened some time since—so long ago that I forget the circumstances, and would not bother about the story now only that I cannot help wishing we had a Quintas Curtius in Terauka. The town is threatened with inundation. The matter was discussed by the Koad Board, but it was no business of theirs. The Town Board sat in solemn conclave over it, but it was not within their functions. There was nothing in the Act to authorise them to taka any steps, and thus “what is everybody’s business Jifr nobody’s bssinsss," and nothing will be

done until some fine morning we shall wake up as we are floating down through the Temuka Park on our way to the Milford harbor. If I were a member of the Town Board 1 should argue this way; "We are the elected representative* of the townspeople, and when any danger threatens them it is our d«ty to lead in averting it. The proper course to pursue is to appoint a Board of Conservators ; let us at once cull a public meeting, and take the necessary steps. It is our duty to do so, more especially as a large number of the townspeople are waiting ajxiouoly for us to take the initiative." That is the speech I would have made if I had been a member of the ToWn Boardj but, alas : I am not, and I never shall be. •—Amen. They nr© nice people down Lake Wakatipu way. According to tho local Mail the County Clerk has left, the County rate-roll is missing and the yearly balance-sheet has been mislaid, and neither can bo got. To this may be added that the dog tax collector has put all the money he collected into bis own pocket, and gave the Council a cheque which was dishonored. And worse than all, the Chairman is accused of winking at all these little piccidilloes. I have often felt curious to know what sort of peop'o had elected Mr Fergus ta Parliament, but I know now. They are fitly represented. Com O’Lanus.