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Typo: A Monthly Newspaper and Literary Review, Volume 5
[miscellaneous paragraphs]
An American telegram states that Rudyard Kipling is dying of consumption, and has been sent to Italy.
Mr Michael Davitt's new organ, the Labor World, after losing heavily from the start, has succumbed.
An Irish priest has claimed and recovered £500 damages from the Launceston Telegraph for publishing an item from a Scotch paper, said extract being an alleged libel. This opens up a new danger in journalism, and forcibly illustrates the proverbial wooden-headedness of jurors.
The Christchurch Referee has been purchased by the proprietors of the Weekly Press, and incorporated with that popular paper.
Justice, having struggled through its first year, is endeavoring to form a company to take over the concern.
From the Marton Mercury we have a card, in red and gold, neatly displayed in rule-work, in a somewhat original fashion.
Mr E. A. Joseph, late of the Otago Daily Times, has been appointed editor of the Clutha Free Press.
After many vicissitudes, the Tauranga Times was sold by auction on the 18th inst. It was knocked down to Mr W. Buchanan, who carries on the paper.
Mr S. Plaw, late of the Tauranga Times, has opened a printing-office at Pukekohe, and contemplates starting a semi-weekly paper.
The Pall Mall Budget, in complimenting Lord Onslow on his « plucky exploration » of the Urewera country, has set New-Zealand-ers grinning from ear to ear.
The Taieri Advocate, a well-conducted paper, completed its tenth year a few weeks ago. It has reduced its price from twopence to one penny.
The proprietor of the Taranaki Herald has found it necessary to purchase a two-feeder Wharfedale, and is erecting a building for its reception.
Mr John F. Dundas, at one time editor of the Marlborough Times, and for a time sub-editor of the Wellington Times, succeeds the late Mr Blundell as editor of the Nelson Mail.
Mr John Henningham, formerly proprietor of the Dunedin Star, who a few weeks ago was sentenced to four years' imprisonment in Melbourne for forgery, died in Pent-ridge Jail on 12th June, aged 58.
We have received the opening numbers of the Free Press, an eight-page weekly, printed by Mr J. Stewart Algie, for the newly-formed newspaper company at Balclutha. The first issue was not without its shortcomings, but the later numbers, as regards paper and press-work, are unexceptionable.
According to a South Island contemporary, Mr Drake, the former editor of the Reefton Guardian, who at the last general election was defeated for the Inangahua seat by Mr R. Reeves by a single vote obtained on scrutiny, is now manager of a silver mine at Zeehan—a vocation more profitable than either journalism or politics.
The Bishop of Dunedin, having lately engaged in a newspaper controversy with a Wesleyan minister, on the subject of John Wesley's relation to the Church of England, has republished the correspondence in the form of a pamphlet. In an explanatory note, he mentions that « merely to save expense, » he has omitted some of his opponents' letters. (The letters in question gave examples of garbled quotations from Wesley's writings, and instances of the good bishop's ignorance of Wesley's hymns.)
Mr Joseph Ivess has started another small up-country newspaper—a semi-weekly, entitled the Parkes Examiner. Parkes is a little town in New South Wales.
A Melbourne paper has had to defend a libel action for calling a local hairdresser a « bush lawyer. » Case dismissed; plaintiff to pay all costs.
A valuable paper is included in our last parcel from the Government Printer—a complete Index to the Appendices of the Journals of the Houses of Parliament of New Zealand from 1854 to 1890.
Mr Charles G. Clark, for 36 years shipping reporter of the Age, has retired on a pension. He was banquetted, on the occasion, by some of the leading members of the shipping community.
Lord Randolph Churchill receives from the Daily Graphic the sum of £2,000 for twenty letters written by him describing his journey into Africa. The letters are afterwards to be published in book-form.
The liquor-sellers of Berlin, as a counterblast to the Salvation Army, started an opposition War Cry. The character of the paper was such that the police interfered, and it did not issue a second number.
« Mendacious and lickspittle contemporary. » « A blackguard and a poltroon. » Such are the terms applied by a Napier evening paper to one of the best-edited and most independent journals in New Zealand. The old old story: « No case. Abuse plaintiff's attorney. »
Mr James J. Utting (formerly sub-editor of the Dunedin Guardian) was lately presented by the staff of the Melbourne Evening Standard with Shakspeare's works in three handsome volumes, to mark the occasion of his 49th birthday, and the completion of his 33rd year of journalism.
The Wanganui Herald, in which the hon. Mr Ballance has a controlling interest, continues to « butter » him week by week in the most fulsome style. The wielder of the spatula writes in the character of « a lady » from Wellington. « ؟Have I not already said, some time, that he stands without a peer in the House? That, however, is saying little. In any representative assembly in any country in the world he would take a foremost place… As for the others, they are not to be named in the same day. I am not deifying him, mind you. » The Napier News, with a fine irony of which we had not supposed it capable, recognizes that the great failing of the Premier is over-modesty.
Writing to an Auckland paper, Mrs Baldwin says that nothing in this world can atone for the months of slow torture her husband endured in Napier Jail: « sick, weary, separated from home and those he held most dear; only to be liberated to die. Nothing can obliterate the months of suffering through which my children have passed, and in all probability years to follow on to those months. Constant dropping wears away a stone, and continual fretting wore away my children's constitutions until nothing remains but a wreck of what once were fine healthy children. Such wrongs as these, to be righted, must go before a higher tribunal than this poor Vanity Fair can ever aspire to. »