The Zelanians are loyal to the Motherland. They speak of Britain as “Home,” and, as a compliment to her, the color with which she paints her dependencies is conspicuously present in the cheeks of Zelanian ladies.
Unless Zelania dilutes her blood by hurried accessions to her population, she will, in a few generations, furnish the finest type of mental and physical man and womanhood that ever kicked a football, or “did the block,” on the surface of Oliffa.
Maori Wharepuni.
In the care of the unfortunate, the deaf, the dumb, the blind, and the lunatics, Zelania is already on the “fortunate” side, as Mr. Oseba abundantly testifies.
Oseba says:—
“As an evidence of the satisfaction of the people of Zelania with their present condition, it is only necessary to remark the low death rate among the people. This for the last eleven years has averaged less than ten persons per thousand. For the same period, the rates in Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, were about sixteen per thousand; in the United Kingdom, over eighteen per thousand; in Germany and France, about twenty-two per thousand; in Italy, about twenty-five; and in Austria, over twenty-seven per thousand. Then it appears that of all people the Zelanians are best satisfied with their present situation.—Mayhap, some tarry even a little too long.
“While these people are all earnest, and want to go to heaven—afterwhile—they seem to be in no hurry about starting, and have little desire for risking climatic changes.
“With other matchless wonders, had Nature been attending properly to business, she would have placed the ‘Fountain of Youth’ in some of these charming spots, for the ‘untimely taking off’ of a person in Zelania seems quite unjustifiable. A person willingly leaving any other country might be justified in making the change, but when anyone permanently retires from Zelania it means there has been coercion, an exercise of some extraneous power.