CORRESPONDENCE

Wairoa Bell, Volume V, Issue 170, 4 November 1892, Page 2

CORRESPONDENCE

[The editor is not responsible for opinions expressed by correspondents.] (To the Editor). Dear Sir, —Some people have become alarmed at finding out that it is becoming a practice in some places to dig for gum with a plough instead of a spade and a good deal more is being made of the matter than its importance deserves. In the great majority of gum-fields ploughing would not pay as well as digging and I am’ inclined to believe that the case which has been reported from the North in the Auckland papers has been greatly exaggerated. The fields have been so over-run with diggers that I can scarcely believe a plough would be successful in any spot. All that is necessary I think is for the Government to find out to what extent ploughing is indulged in and with what result. If the small capitalist with a horse or bullocks and plough is likely to soon rob the spader of his employment then it should be stopped, but I don’t think there is any danger of the plough being successfully used. Diggers on a field should quietly put a stop to such a pi-aetice iu a paying locality by appointing a few of their number to follow the plough and pick up the gum before it has been handled by the ploughman and make a general stock of it to be shared all round. The ploughman then would I fancy give up his way of working or make a partnei-ship with other diggers on the field and the result then would not be much more than if all were spading. But I did not intend to say so much about ploughing a 3 I think there is a much more important question now before the Waste Lands Board, and one which is much more difficult to correctly solve. In the matter of the ploughing the only considerations are the interests of the many diggers and the one ploughman, but in the question of the Sale of Gum lands there is a good (Teal more to consider, and I should like to hear the question fully discussed, for I must confess that I have hitherto been unable to come to a decision on the matter. Mr R. Thompson seems very decidedly of opinion that the gum lauds should not bo sold, but I see a great deal that might well be urged against bis contention. Hoping to hear more on this subject,—l am, Sir Settled Digger.

TO THE EDITOR.

Sir, —Music generally has a soothing effect upon the human heart, and tends to impart a softening touch to the stern influences and realism of life. Few indeed are more ardent lovei'S of music than myself, but there are occasions when even music can be deemed monotonous and sound unbearable ; and the instrument which in this instance has aroused my ire is an unassuming cowbell. Not that I object to bells—-oh dear no ! for church, school or wedding bells ai-e all excellent and indispensible contrivances, as pleasant to the ear as they are useful to the memory ; but we can have too much of even a good thing, and bells are no exception to this rule. The last mentioned bells (fortunately for their existonce)’know when to cease chim. ing and serve their purpose within a limited time, but this last quality a cowbell lacks ; inasmuch as it register*, every movement of its possessor with a volley of clanging that jarrs discordantly upon the least sensitive ear. In the neighbourhood of my residence one of these suspended bells ornaments the neck of some music loving cow, and not only does the instrumental concert monopolise my ears during the daytime, but also keeps clanging an accompaniment to the unsteady motions of the quadruped on its moonlight perambulati ns, with a persistency which would suggest the impression that the erring animal was addicted to ague shivers iu the region of its neck ; and giving forth a variety of sounds as difficult to pronounce as they are unpleasant to the nerve. There was a time when I looked upon sleep as the essence of punctuality in the exercise of its influence over my senses ; but that time lias long since departed, and its departure is identical with the advent of that cowbell. The soothing luxury of slumber I seldom enjoy whilst those woful chimes engage my hearing, vainly though I try to coax it with well wadded ears and ingenious manoeuvres. Fatile indeed are all my efforts, aud I stand convinced that I must either endure the misery which that aggravating tinkle imparts, or else flee to some remote part of the Wairoa—there to drown the memory of that bell in the solitude of a hermit’s life. —I am, Sir (fortunately for that cow), Not the Owner.