Our Wellington Watchman.

Wairarapa Daily Times, Volume IX, Issue 2584, 28 April 1887, Page 2

Our Wellington Watchman.

' Wellington, April 27. New Zealand's small' and select army Ims been duly paraded, her ditto artillery lias been duly popped off; the Governor has duly, popped off his " Speech from the Throne," like a blank cartridge, and members have returned to their lodgings to dream of coming oratorical triumphs, and the session of 1887 has commenced. If, however, we except the waste of pipe clay and gunpowder, I should much i like to know what has been accomplished so far. " Speeches from the Throne "are always deadly, tame, enough to prompt a man to kill his mother-in-law just to vary the monotony, but this especial spoecli was the sickest thing ever inflictod on a long suffering people. I do not seo how it could woll be otherwise. Hore have Ministers, up to the eleventh hour, been flying around the country like peripatetic piemen, playing their own little lone hands, and some fourth class clork has had to work overtime and rend this speech from tho depths of his own inner consciousness, by the hairs of it 3 head. That accounts for its baldness. It (tho speech) went meandering around the topics of the Jubileii and Imperial Institute ; sneezed ovor the Imperial Conference, the naval and other defences; wheezed over the cultivation of friendly feelings with adjacent colonies; yawned about wool and gram, grunted (with tongue in cheek) concerning reduced oxpendi-

turo; dribbled a sentence about the Representation Bill—which Ministers seem to have already forgotten—coldly alluded to reform in the Legislative Council, to agricultural settlements, to Maoris, and finally tailed off and died of emptiness and almighty nothingness. But, let me ask, how, among other things, about land

nationalisation ? Bid not the Premier, but a few short weeks ago at Marton, pledge himself to something definite and practical on this score ? Why then not a breath relating to it in the speech? There have we—the patriots without landbeen anticipating the seizure and confiscation of all the best Wairarapa sheep runs, and their immediate division among our noble selves, and yet not the promise of the confiscation of one miserable acre in the ontiro speech. Is this, I ask, eternal justice ? Whero is that iconoclast, Sir Robert Stout ? Is he still suffering from seasickness ? If. not, does he mean to put nothing down this session; will ho tramplo on no accursed vested interests ; does ho not intend to annihilate tho bloated capitalist ? What does ho intond to" chaw up," anyhow ? What is the uso of our thrilling watchword FREEDOM I if we may not kill some body, or grind someone's face into the dust'? Arise! On great Sir-Radical, and at least chuck ("chuck", is the classical) us a few squatters to rend and devour. Alas! no. Tho poesy, the spirit-stirriug promises, the haughty threats of pro-sessional days seem clean forgot, and all that is loft, is a state platitude or two, the glimpse of a few bullock batterymen in ill-fitting uniforms, and tho sniff of a few pounds of wasted gunpowder. Ichabod.

Our social event of the past woek was tlio ginger-beer soiree, with which Mr Fraser, the successful candidate for tho Aro scat, colobratod his victory. The repast was, of course, on. the strictest tee-total lines, the toasts being drunk in tea or pop; but the noise made was so tremendous, that non-abstaining neighbors thought of calling in the police, fearing murder would ensue, 'midst tho muffins. Tho attendant reporters appear to have been both astonished arid awed at the iierce hilarity of the proceedings. Mr Fraser said, "the gratification of success was largely tempered by a growing sense of the responsibilities he had undertaken," so lie has had his hair cut, his Sun-day-go-to-meotings renovated; has mounted a larger and newer blueribbon, and may daily be seen stalking the Wellington streets—a comfortable Hamlet, reciting with moody brow, liis maiden speech, which, report says, is to knock spots out of the Opposition. I fear he will be no more able to keep the "Great Ternperanco Caws" out of his speeches, than was the amiable Mr Dick to suppress mention of King Charles. This will be unfortunate, because just now we do not want any more legislators with fads—teetotal orothorwise —but men who will tacklo the work of the country.

I am truly glad to see there is to be—though lato in tho day—an enquiry into the death at tho Napier gaol of tho unfortunate young man, Parsonage. My satisfaction is somewhat damped, however, by tho fact that the investigation is to be a departmental ono. I have noli an overweening belief in departmentalenquiries. I know something of how thoy are done, or hpw not done. I know something of tho exquisite skill—attainod by long years of praclico—by which an investigation may bo made to appear to the popular oye as most critical - and searching, but which investigation is to the initiated only a rattling of vary dry bones indeed. There is a facetious offioial py of apparently reprimanding and punishing, while really commending and rewarding, Ido not mean to insinuate rigid justice will not be moted in this particular caw, but morely that justice in departmental enquiries is very frequently not done, for the simple reason that if it were large and inconvenient questions might aviso, (the Napier caso might, for instance, raise tho wholo question of the discipline in our prisons)* and {lie official mind hates nothing quite so much' as questions. It would at any rate have been far more satisfactory had the enquiry been relegated; to perfectly independent hands.

We have in Wellington a number of ladies who have kindly banded to guard our mo#. 'lhey have regular meetings, minutes, balance sheets, secretaries, and the remainder of thqse cold and crjiel engines of oppression supposed to be dear to the masculine

but not to the femihine mind. They J have also an institution known as the • "Girls' Club"—not the Young Ladies' ' Club, nor even the Young Womans' 1 Association, but the Girls' Club. I There, young female persons of the 1 lower orders may meet to improve 1 themselves by contact with the tone, sweetness,. and light of their lady - patronesses.. Well, a petition now • lies at this Club praying Parliament that the employment of barmaids, other than those now under engagement, may be prohibited. The petition has been signed by about forty ladie3, and by some one whom the papers, with withering sarcasm, describe as " ft conscientious newspaper reporter." Whether the husbands, or some of them, of these forty dames are in the habit of acting as bar-props, and whether they find the sparkling orbs of Lottie, and Carrie, and Hebo more attractive than those of "the old woman" at home, I am not in a position to say; but there is a great deal of human nature in people—evon in the lady patronesses of a " Girls' Club," and it may just be that the fair forty are moved more by personal than purely philanthropic motives. It is whispered about town that semiopen bar doors and mirrors sometimes, when tho gas is lit, revoal awkward secrets to passengers in-the streets, and when a man who has solemnly sworn to his wife that ho is going to sit up all night with a sick friend, is seen with, a large cigar, a larger bouquet in his button hole, and a largest long beer in front of him, in an hotel bar, at 10.45 p.m., gazing passionately into the eyes of Daphne, it is small wonder " the old woman" desires to suppress Daphne and all her ' race. But that "conscientious reporter !" One would like to know him, to gaze upon his chaste lineaments; like to discover by what feminine blandish- ' ments and threats he was coerced into signing that fatal petition. If his ■ name be made public, he will experi- ■ ence some warm quarters of an hour when next he looketh upon the rum ! when it is red.

It seems to me, as I take my walks abroad, that every week somo moonfaced Mongolian opens a new fruit shop in this city, and that most of the retail fruit trade is slowly but surely working into Celestial hands. This is to be deplored. Jolm and myself are very old acquaintances, I have travelled his country pretty thoroughly, and know him under every aspect; have eaten his vile dinners, smoked his viler opium; hobnobbed with mandarins, pirates, soldiers, merchants, and rebel kings, and my deliberate conviction is that John Olrinaman is by far the filthiest bipod on God's earth. I am not talking about his morals, because lie has none to talk about, but his personal habits are inconceivably vile—l care not whether he be a high-class mandarin or, like our fruit retailers, of the lowest Coolie class. A clean northern Chinaman never washes, but dabs his face with a greasy hot cloth once a weok, whether he feels dirty or not. He starts in winter with his whole stock (say six shirts) of olothing on, and sheds a garment at a time us tho wekthor ripens. As it again becomes cold he re-assumes an unwashed garment at a time, aud so on, yoar in, year out, until, ho dies of leprosy, or elephantiasis, or opium. Ten Chinkies require the came sleeping space only noeded by the same number of moderate sized snakes. His mothods of gro~i%' vegetables maybe inspected by auyono who is not too fastidious. And these are tho boasts whose shops are crowded by respectable European women, who buy John's "bleutiful Suit," heedless that those highly polished exhibits probably been burnished with one of the ancient shirts John does not happen to be wearing, and feat they have bean kept in the same room where some twenty Asiatics live in a mode at which any reputable pij would blush. No wonder there is so much typhoid about, and that so many people suffer from a mysterious low fever.

I had just posted my letter when I saw a summary of the report of the enquiry into the death of the' late D. J. Parsonage at Napier gaol, My surmisings were prophetic. Captain Preece, R.M., conducted the Departmental enquiry, and viewed through the departmental atmosplioro, all tho circumstances connected with the brain-batterings are highly commendable and meritorious—except, of course, the culpable conduct of the dead man in giving all the officials this anxiety and worry. Beading tho report makes one regret that we cannot have Parsonage back aud give him a few days more" solitary'' for the execrably bad taste of tho mothod of his exit. Captain Preece assures us that tho evidence given by the prisoners at tho enquiry differs most materially from that given before him as Coroner at the inquestj that Iks majority agree Parsonage made no more noise than other lunatics: that he was treated by all the Warders (this, of course includes our friond "Lot him belt away"] with distinguished consideration; that another wardor is wanted, and a night officer is absolutely necessary, but tho gaol is otherwise a terrestrial paradise, and I presume Parsonage killed himself eithovf i'om malevolenoe or bocause ho felt unworthy of such anelysium. "Tho ovidenco of the prisoners diffors from, that given by the prisoners at the inquost I" Ahl it would. You seo, Captain Preece, Prisoners have to study tho future. Parsonage is dead and nothing prisoners can say will revive him, but the warders—tho warders are very mneli alive, and prieonei'3 have to enjoy their society for longor or shorter periods. You comprohond me Captain Preece. Now if you were a prisoner, Captain—pardon the supposition—and had in tho first excitement and horror, spoken a little top freely, would you not, when some wfeeks had 'passed, and you had the benefit of soiie-good advice from officials—would you not feel inclined to diplomatically qualify those first statements, tliougk they might have been perfectly true ? Of course you would, especially when the Magistrate fixed ■upon you with his cold ancj glittering eye-jrthat E, M. with power of bread and water and other punishments! The majority (not all) quali-

fied -their" previous statements. But, do you lmow, Captain, the statement made on the spur of the moment by such as these is worth one hundred statements made at a departmental enquiry—after consideration? Of course you know it. . ■ But, Captain Preeci), Captain Preece 1 What the public want to know is:— .- 1. Did Parsonage long summer's night in kill himself ? 2. Did any person (after 9. p.m.) unlock his door, or even look at .him ? 8. Was a Warder told the man was trying to beat out his brains, and did lie answer "Let Him Belt^ i You admit in your report, man was drunk, and a lunatic ;, it is ■ proved he was violont; you state thero was a padded room—Why was < not Parsonage put therein ? Captain Preoco, those questions have to be answered (in the House or out of it), and tlioy have to be answered without any surroundings of official haze.