The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1901-03-14

preserving their time-honored originate
ty in customs and costumes, sullenly
moving to new quarters as the vora-
cious Britisher requires more land.
The younger element has been
taught by the gentle influences of the
gospel to lead Jekyl-Hyde sort of life.
When at home on their native heath,
they still go clad in blankets and flax
mats When they array themselves to
visit town, they resemble Solomon in
all his glory, in fashionable European
garments, with polished boots, silk hats,
gold watch guards, perhaps silver
mounted riding whip. In this acquired
garb, one of the unspeakable blessings
of conquest, they mingle quietly with
the English invaders in the city streets,
but they are readily recognized by their
dark olive skin and the inevitable cir
Giles Of tattoo on their faces. They
sport these store clothes and other lux
uries on the good money they made by
gathering Kauri gum and, growing fax
for the Auckland market. When they
have done their shopping in town, back
they go and resume their blankets and
mats.
AS a reward Of merit for being paci-
fled their benevolent Uncle Bull Is now
quite willing to propitiate the Maori
remnants. This Is pursuant to the gen
tie programme originally outlined by
Captain Cook. They are cordially invl-
ted to cooperate in Sunday-school work
and in the extensive BODYBUILDING and
other public improvements going on.
They are encouraged if they want to
farm or go into any other line OF busn-
ness that will initiate the commercial
revenues of j. Bull. They are even IN
vited to dabble In politics. They are
now eight native Maoris, elected py
their own people, in the lower house OF
the New Zealand parliament, where
they must learn the kings English II
they want to be anything more than
wooden guns
But it will not be long now before
this brave and proud stock will pass
into the limbo Of obliteration. Their
native originality and strong character
points have already been toned down
into vapid monotony and uninteresting
subsection. One thing alone will re-
main to preserve the traditions Of the
race when the last Maori Is under the
sod-the soft, liquid nomenclature they
fastened in baptism on the shining rlv-
ers. the sparkling waterfalls, the tan
gled forests of fern and flax, the deep,
clear bays and coves, blue and fathom-
less as the sapphire skies that mirror
back their smiles; the dark, vine-clad
caverns and mystic, fairy-haunted
lakes, the world famed terraces OF sill
lea. cleaning under the sunlight IN
pink and white and green, and the tow
ering, majestic mountain peaks, with
their crowns Of everlasting snow. No
British vandal would ever dare to dis
card the sweetness Of these Maori
names, for they are musical as tne
nightingales trill.
And there may be sentiment enough
among the British conquerors to re-
serve a niche in the island memoirs Tor
the weirdly beautiful array OF Maori
lore, in legends. They still may tell,
when the native voice 10 silenced, OF
that haunted island of Mokoia, to
which the fair Hinemoia is said to have
swan, suspended in the waves by q
string Of gourds around her neck, on
visit to her lover, the god Toutanikai,
the music of whose flute had won her
heart-a Hero and Leander story waft-
ed to the far-off southern seas.
Some shilling hypnoticed Britisher
may drop his ledger long enough to re-
call the time when the two giant peaks
of Egmont and Ruapeho fell deep IN
love with the snowy bosom and spark
ling eyes of the lady mountain Tonga
rico, and how Ruapeho. being in better
muscle than his rival, gave him one
blow that knocked him one hundred
miles west and landed him on the sea
coast near Taranaki. at O safe distance
from the lady in the case; and ne has
sullsed there in his snow-clad grandeur
ever since.
John Bull may leave these garlands
ON the Maori's grave because they are
harmless. They can't disturb the
fruits" of slaughter and extermina-
TONS. P. Butler in the Cincinnati
Enquirer.