THE WAYS OF THE WORLD.

Temuka Leader, Issue 1974, 26 November 1889, Page 2

THE WAYS OF THE WORLD.

I have received the following from Geraldine, which I give verbatim ad literatim in the vernancular as it came to hand :

“To Sir Cory O’Lanvjs, Esq., K.O.M.G. —Sir, —l am ashamed of you to be putting such bad feeling amongst such loving neighbors as we are up bore, and Ido not like it all ; but lam greatly obligded for the rinkla of growing the onions and rubarb together, and plase the pigs, I will try it next season. Now I will give you the history of that latter that went astray. You see, about twentyfive years ago, when Geraldine was declared a town, our worthy chairman used to be bothered very often for money for bexars and such charitable purposes, so he got sick of giving away such a powerful lot of money every day, so he cut all the pockets out of Ilia coat, but left the pocket-holes, and every morning when he goes to his office he puts all his charitable money into them what ha intends to give away throughout the day. Well, the clerk of the board gave him the letter to read, but his worship thought it was a dun, and he put the letter into one of these pockets, and he cannot tell cannot tell whether he took it home or not. Sir Gory, when the rhubarb and onions grow next season wont I send you a bunch ! “At the last meeting of the Farmers’ Go-operative Society the Revs, J. Smyth (of Pleasant Point) and J. Brady (of Otoio) gave thanks for receiving such a good dividend. Don’t you think it is time the country districts combined to get a telephone to each church, and only employ one parson in Titaaru to preach for as alii It would save us the trouble of antying up to pay them their screw, and building churches and manses for them.—l am, etc., “Sptrns. “Geraldine, November 15.” Obviously there is, therefore, no remedy for it but to saw pockets on the chairman’s coat. lam glad the whole thing has been so satisfactorily explained ; but it is disappointing to me that I have not die chance of fining the reporter, or of licking the chairman in an argument. Your suggestion concerning Church-c®-operation is immense. It is tlm masterj stroke of a genius ; but I advise you to make your own coffin forthwith, for no one ever lived longafter such corruscationa of wisdom having passed through his cel’ular tissue. Histological observations I confirm the conclusion that the amoeba of thought floating in its transitional contractility from the bioplastic to tho protoplastic blastema plays the deuce with tho nucleolus of the tubercle corpuscles and the epithelial cells. You are a dead man. You have committed suicide ; you are felo de ss. The symptoms are more fully treated of in Artemus Ward. George Levans, of Temuka, is the only mao who could cure you, but he has been bullied too much lately.

The following has got into the paper without my knowledge: “To the Printer, etc. —For your owo credit, for honor’s sake, for the sake of my fair fame and name, don’t let any more nuisances into the paper. There is the sweet nuisance of Temuka and the rank nuisance of Geraldine—in fact, the paper is becoming nuisancical, while I am lying here will) my broken bones in an hospital. No doubt this is Sir Cori’s work. He has not the taste of a toothless grimalkin. If you can find anyone to give you tick, get a bottle of whiskey on each publication night, leave it in tha sanctum, and that will relieve you of Sir Cori’a assistance. You then can keep the paper free from nuisances. lam getting on fine in the hospital. I am getting enough to eat here, which is more than newspaper editors generally can say. I am growing stoat and strong, owing to good feeding, and, unless they turn me out before I am fully recovered, I shall be able to punch the life out of O’Lanus when I get back. —Yodr Editor.” Ha! ha 1 So this is the plot, is it f One bottle has been left, but I broke the printer’s goggles, and he is not going to try it on again. I am going ta rule the roost here now, and all the good feeding of tha hospital will not bring the editor up to my fighting weight, anyhow,

Dogs are interesting animals. If 1 am credibly informed, they existed on earth some time before man did, and were well grown puppies before lovely woman cast a longing eye on the forbidden fruit. In point of antiquity, therefore, the dog has the start of man, and in point of faithfulness and kindness he cm afford to start from scratch, and allow man the utmost limit. A dog will fight over a bone—and sometimes over nothing at all —just like man, but when he has satisfied himself he doss not begrudge other dogs their turn. It is not so with man. He is not satisfied with auough; he wants all the bones in the country for himself, and does not much care if everyone else is starving. Man makes a terrible amount of noise about any good ha does. He sings songs about it, while quoting Scripture about not letting his left hand know what bis right hand does, and about loving his neighbor as himself. He quotes the scripture, but he stops there ; he thinks that is enough. The dog, on the other hand, quotes no Scripture, but acts it in genuine fidelity. Comparisons are, however, odious, especially when in favor of the dog. The prophetic Hamlet said once in Shakespeare— M Let Hercules himself do what he may, The oat will mew and the dog will have his day.”

Yahoos have since corrupted this into “Every dog has his day,” but when one sees the number of dogs there are, while there are only 365 d«ys in the year, it is obvious every one of them can’t get a day to hirns«lf. Somehow it appears to me dogs have been defrauded of their days. In ancient times (legs were not highly respected, for the word “dog” was often used to express loathing. From information received, as the police say, I am beginning to think that Hamlet's prophecy is now being fulfilled, and that the dog is going to get all his days in a lump. There are at present in Paris many doctors who do nothing at all but attend to delicate poodles. They go round in their carriages to feel the pulses and look at the tongues of their interesting patients. This is an absolute fact, I can assure you. 1 am proud to say that London is not behindhand iu this respect. Besides the dog physicians there is in Piccadilly a jeweller named Barrett, who drives ai

muring trade in nothing but jewellery for dogs, and when the strike wus at fever heat the other day he fixed £250 worth of diamonds round the neck of one interesting canine. Then there are deg tailors, who make coats for these charming little animals at a cost of £2 and upwards. There are also basket makers, who manufacture delightful little cots for these curled darlings of society to sleep in, and these cribs cost from £3 to £7. This is what I call “does having their day.”

These of course are the aristoorary of the species, but they are net the only class which is having its day. The lower ordsr of dogs is being looked after too. There is in London a home for stray dogs, where they are housed and fed until their owners claim them. lam glad to bo able to infer from all this that man is not altogether a brute, and that now and again something like kindness breaks out in him. His kindness, however, is of an erratic nature, because wa find that it is mostly all expended on dumb animals, while very little of it is applied to ameliorating the sufferings of bis fellow beings. I have thought over this very much, aad after much brain sweating the conclusion I have arrived at is that man is not half civilized yet. He has reached the £s. d. degree of civilization, but has got no higher.

Gore has a genius who answers te the name of lan P/rason Siinson, both Simeons being without ap. He is described as an auctioneer and a gentleman, and history records of him that in early life he graduated in the nrt, of carrying a swag. Judging by the swagger with which he sometimes acts I believe this must be correct. Ho made Gore notorious, and himself famous, some time ago. He insisted that as mayor of the town ho occupied the position of chief magistrate, and created a fearful scene in the Polios Court there one day by getting into logger* heads with another Justice of the Peace. In their struggle as to who should sign the Court book as Cbairmas of the Bench they tore the book to shreds, and a scene of indescribable commotion was witnessed. Now this same double-barrelled Simeon is a candidate for the mayoral chair this year, and his address is the most magnificent thing I have come across in all my experience. He says—“ The coming year will be one of the most important in the history of New Zealand, owing to the large number of Foreign, English, and

Colonial visitors who will attend tha Dunedin Exhibition. While agreeing with a great many ratepayers that the mayoral chair should be within tha reach of every citizen, I think an exception to the rule is desirable this year; the burgesses should select a mas whose position and ability would make hies a worthy representative of Gore, while the position of mayor would reflect credit upon himself.” There is so much innocent modesty and guilelessness about this that it is quite refreshing to read it. He says in effect—“ Any other year any on# would do, but this year gentlemen will visit the town, and you want a gentleman to receive them. lam a gentleman,” It is said of a mayor of Limerick that he did not know himself, but I do not think such a fata could befall Mr Double-breasted Simson without a p.

This address has so taken my fancy that 1 have been dreaming about Mr Simson since I read if. Only last night 1 dreamt I was present at a reception at Windsor Castle in the midst of princes, dukes, earls, plenipotentiaries, etc. The Queen was seated in all her regal magnificence on her throne, and at her right hand side sat the Prince of Wales. Tha scene was gorgeous, magaificant, indescribably grand, and just at the most solemn moment a sort of murmur was heard, and all was stillness, [t was apparent at once that some great personage had arrived, and sure enough it w«s so, for in walked a gentleman who was introduced to Her Majesty as lan Simson Simson, Mayer and Chief Magistrate of Gore, the largest island town is New Zealand. Queen Victoria jumped at once to her feet, vnd took him by the hand, then turning to the heirapparent sho said, “ Prince of Wales, ray son, gat up and let lan Simson Simson, Mayor and Chief Magistrate of Gore, sit in your place." He aat, and then the Queen said to him, “ lan Simson Simson, 1 am thinking of getting you to succeed ms as king,” and Mr Simeon said, “Tour Majesty has honored me, but, honestly speaking, I do not think there is a man in the Empire could fill the position so well.” At this moment I awoke, and found it was all s dream. Gobi O’Lands, K.C.M G,