Tropicalities

TN the course of the Commonwealth Par -Miament debate on the question of hang ing Ludwig Schmidt in New Guinea, a Federal Minister read an extract from an article in the Pacific Islands Monthly.

The Minister said that, as far as he knew, the comment came from an independent, unbiassed source. That is perfectly true.

But it did not suit Mr. Rosevear. Mr.

Rosevear accordingly said: “It appears that it was a quotation from a lurid journalistic write-up, or from some sort of novelette or trade journal. The Minister might just as well have quoted from a story by Charles Garvice.”

Readers possibly may ask, Who is Mr.

Rosevear? Is he an authority? Mr. Rose vear is the sort of notable accident that happens in every Parliament elected un der the party machine system. When red rag Labour turned away from Mr. Theo dore, it sought some cut-to-pattern can didate to run against him in the Dailey seat; and a humorous Pate so arranged matters that Mr. Rosevear happened to be ?:ext in line. He seldom had been heard of before in public life; but in he went.

He could be neither credited with fault nor blamed with merit. Dailey would have elected a wooden effigy, so long as it had the Langist label on its back. It was a queer sight—the Theodore lion defeated by the Rosevear mouse. That was bad enough—but it became worse as it be came evident that Mr. Rosevear cherished a conviction that he is a statesman, and that a palpitant nation awaited his utter ances on every subject under the sun. He obvic/usly is a worthy citizen and a kindly householder, but, as a member of Parlia ment, he was quickly classified by the press gallery. “Three P.’s!” said the press men; and that was the end of Mr. Rose vear as an occupier of valuable space in the public newspapers. * * ♦ THE story of W.A.8., of Mussau Island, Kavieng:— One evening I was trying to press the milk from a tin into a cup of cereal coffee.

My cook-boy, after watching my vain attempts for some time, said: “Me show him you, master.”

Thereupon he laid his lips firmly over one of the two holes in the tin, and blew vigorously. Quite a good stream issued from the other hole, into my cup of coffee.

Proudly he informed me: “All the time me fellow work him all the same master.”

After that I thought it better to keep well out of the kitchen—“for conscience sake!” * * * A CONSTANT source of interest to visitin Tahiti is the mausoleum of Pomare V. at Papa-oa. Curiously enough, the ma jority will pass the family burial place of the Pomares some distance away with out a thought, though more history is buried in that walled quarter acre or so than elsewhere on the island. The grave of Pomare V. is conspicuous because of the somewhat showy mausoleum in which the French interred him. Pomare IV., his mother, and other members of the family, are buried with Pomare 11. (the first Po mare to subdue the islanders). It is not generally realised, however, that the last King of Tahiti is buried on the site of the national marae known as Tara-hoi. Many years ago some exceedingly beautiful aito trees stood in the vicinity. An enterpris ing European, realising their value, sug gested their purchase to the King. The monarch agreed, but when the natives heard of the transaction they were horri fied. The trees were cut down and used for cabinet-making: their new owner

laughed at the superstitions of the Ta hitians. But within a year he was cov ered by a loathsome, incurable disease, and a few months later he died. Though the French have done nothing to preserve the marae in their Polynesian territory, the natives still regard those sacred places of the ancient ritual with veneration.— “Eriki.” * * * THE week-end party in the Solomons ■*- had been a gay and merry one, but, like all good things, it had to come to an end. Tomorrow meant work; so, after half a dozen quick farewell “spots,”

Blank and his pals managed to grope their way on board the cutter. Before the anchor was up, the sound of their ribald snores kept time with the lapping waves. Blank, a little more clear in the head than the rest, kept awake until he picked up Bungana Light. “Steer straight ’long him,” he told the boy at the wheel. Then, having done his duty like a true British tar he “coiled up” for the night, or what was left of it. At daylight they awoke to find themselves well on their way to Sydney. Instead of the Bungana Light, they had picked up the stern light of an outward bound steamer! • • • THE gift of Queensland finches that Lord Beauchamp sent recently to Charles Nordhoff, the American novelist settled in Tahiti, is by no means the first collection of birds sent from New South Wales. As early as 1800 it was realised that the bird life of Tahiti was fast disappearing. The Rev. William Henry, one of the original missionaries of the Duff (who, incidentally, is buried at Ryde, near Sydney), brought a number of Australian parrots back with him that year. The birds were given to the first Pomare and other chiefs, and the intention was to liberate them in the mountains. “The chiefs are highly pleased with them,” wrote one of the missionaries on January 15, 1800, in a record preserved in the Mitchell Library, Sydney, “because they have many red feathers upon them, which, next to muskets, are with them the

most acceptable things, from an imagina tion that red feathers are the most valu able offerings they can make to their idols.” In addition, Henry brought two pairs of tame pigeons, a pair of rabbits, two rams and two ewes, four geese, four Muscovy ducks, one turkey (the female died on the voyage), several fruit trees, and some Norfolk Island pines. In re cent years, Messrs. Nordhoff, Eastham, Guild, and other bird-lovers, have imported birds from the United States, New Zealand and Australia. —“Eriki.” * * * THE Melbourne Herald has pointed out with cruel glee that Norfolk Island after solemn deliberation has decided to ally itself with other countries in applying sanctions to Italy in an attempt to end the Abyssinian war. The Herald points out that Italy is now in the unhappy position of being unable to import arms and ammu nition. transport, rubber, or minerals from Norfolk Island.