TOPICS OF THE DAY.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2652, 6 November 1909, Page 4

TOPICS OF THE DAY.

There is something after all in G. B. - Shaw’s contention that Working the the civilisation of EuroOracle. pe .lias not advanced very much during the. past few thousand years, in spite of the superficial changes oi custom <nid invention. “What! spirit rapping. Do they still believe in suck superstitions in the year ~707 of the Republic?” says Julius Caesar to the girlish Cleopatra in Shaw s delightful play, and the same follies that nnght have merited the amused scorn of a Caesar exist by the score in the twentieth century Anno Domini. The,;

speaking Oak cf Dodona, and the Delpule Oracle are looked upon as attributes of benighted ages nowadays, and were probably looked upon as such a couple of thousand years ago'ior that 'matter, yet we have an equally fantastic fetish in London to-day. The eccentric Mr. W. T. Stead has opened a bureau by which mortals are supposed to be able to reap wisdom from departed spirits, and the happy medium is a spook with the uninteresting name of Julia —Jul;et would have sounded much more romantic, surely ? Unabashed by the cropper Said is supposed to have come over his visit to the Witch of Emlor, Stead has (been “communicating’’ with the illustrious departed to the extent of getting jiolitical advice from the ■ Jate Mr. Gladstone and. Lord Beaconsfield. There is nothing original in the affair at all, though .several people are getting wildly excited for and against the newcomer from Spookland. A similar political move was tried' goodness-knows-how many years ago. One Lycurgus, after framing the strict code of laws which have made Spartan regime a by-word to this day, not unnaturally left the country where they were in lorce. He did not return but tlie oracle at Delphi when consulted by the people supported him admirably by warning tbe nation to obey liis edicts. One doesn’t like to accuse Mr. 'Stead of either plagiarism or insincerity, but there really is a temptation to work the oracle where political questions are concerned.. Any way, whether he is taken seriously or not, he has provided London with a new sensation, which is no small thing in these blase times.

More and more tbe conclusion is forced upon us that tbe WaraTlie Waratali. tab is not afloat. The story of the captain of the Harlow seems far from conclusive, for it appears incredible that so large a vessel could have caught a-fire and been completely destroyed within the few hours that elapsed between the time she was sighted by the Clan McIntyre and .the time she was supposed to have been seen by the Harlow’s, officers. And being within a few miles of the coast, it seems incredible that no sign of wreckage or bodies should have been discovered. The most pro-' bable theory is that the vessel simply overturned, .and in this connection the following extract from a letter received in Auckland from the Old Country appears to throw light on the subject: “I-fear there is no hope of seeing the Waratali. An officer of the Ortona says there is no chance of it. It appears that when she arrived at Durban the agents, finding , the price of frozen meat was better there than m London, took it all out and sold it, leaving the middle of the. ship empty. They arranged to load with maize at Capetown, and so trim Hie ship, but having met with very bad .weather upon leaving Durban, she could not stand it. . To make matters worse, they loaded coal on her decks in very large quantities, and the hold being empty, this imade her too heavy to nit to high seas. The Ortona and the Waratali left Sydney together, and were in company to Melbourne, vhe.e their courses parted, the Ortona vm the Canal and -the Waratali via the Cane. 'This will all come out when the Board- of Trade inquiry sits, as i* will do, when finally all hope is abandoned. The captain of the M aratah had been fifty odd years at sea, and this' was to be his last voyage. He had bought a little house at, Liverpool to live in on his retirement.

Fearful and wonderful are tlnr productions which find their way

Concerning bards

to the W.P.B.' in the editorial sanctum. Ihe

corresponding microbe which impels a certain class of individual to rush to the paper with a voluminous letter whenever an idea strikes him is bad enough, but the poesy germ is deadly. As a rule editors and their subs, suffer in secret, but sometimes, as in the present case, they fall in a towering-rage and-determine that tne public shall share their grief. Heie is a sample verse taken from half a dozen forwarded to this office the other day on the subject of “The Toasts. 5 ' “Here’s to old Scotland,” said Sandy, Here’s to the dear old thistle; And here’s to Sweet Mary McPherson Mav she greet me with a whistle. Some of our readers may be able to suggest whv Sandy wanted Mary to greet him with a whistle, but tbe task is easily beyond us. The same bard proceeded to make “Bully”—apparently meant to refer to John Bull —rhyme ■with “Surrey”, and even now he is probably declaiming against those soulless editors who don’t know a good thing in the way of verse when it comes thenway. However, lest we should be guilty of an injustice to one who evidently means well, we quote ithe last lilies of “The Toasts”:

Then Paddy danced a cakewalk But collapsed upon the floor, And Sandy and Bully softly sang “Life’s dream is O’er.”

All of which would 1 be extremely funny were it not so beastly pathetic.