TO THE KNOWS WHO.

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume 2, Issue 118, 7 September 1877, Page 3

TO THE KNOWS WHO.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE AKAROA MAIL,

Sir, —Yes, you abominable " Dilapidated Stranger,"itis 'facilisdescensusaverni' and my only wonder is that a wicked man, such as you are, has not long since gone to your ' avernie.'

Why, you shocking old slanderer of my dear Akaroa, bow dare you libel her so ? Of all the pleasant and agreeable spots on earth this is the most enjoyable. I have wandered about its shady nooks; have strutted thro' its streets, and its squares. I have frequented its theatre, its concerts, and it's Town Hall. 'I have been Beecherised at its hotels ; and, while I am-willing to admit they are models! I have still found everything to be the first chop. Its publics are models ; its stores are perfection ; its doctors all that suffering humanity can desire; its parsons—well, well—all the women can judiciously aduvhe ; its society, a pattern for municipalities:' arid yet, you, you thoroughly " Dilapidated Stranger," with coat out at elbows, no doubt—probably a patch on your eye— nay you must have ; or else how came you to mistake an ordinary road-side ditch for an "abysmal chasm" in the main thoroughfare ? "Abysmal chasm," indeed ! - Well might your friends have cautioned yon to look a-head. Doubtless they saw the '' chajhi" you were drifting into was comknown as chow-kee—a sort of Chinese joss-house near the centre of the town, where Chi-ram-see is celebrated for hospitality.

Happy, stranger—fortunate Akaroa —it is a lucky chance that you—you dilapidated rascal—--have escaped the punishment you have so richly deserved, and slill more fortunate, for Akaroa.—My Akaroa ! —that she has been relieved of your presence, and that you are no longer permitted to seduce broken-down swells to add to the miseries which my dear Akaroa is not (infrequently called upon to endure from restless wanderers of your type. Y r ou ought to be condemned, like Shakespeare's Bottom, to sit from six in the morning to six at night in the Beecher stocks, alongsidetheguns. with ass's head (notßeecher's) on your shoulders, a bottle of hay before you, and a suitable inscription on your breast.

But you roust s&rely be McLaren, or, what is perhaps worse, the Chairman of the 1.0.0. grumbling growlers, and you are doubtless, intended to be the mover of the first resolution. But, mark you, fellow, be careful that you are suitably attired. I shall be there. Drop your - dilapidated condition, or you will find to your cost that your spirit will be haunted ever by the recording wraith of ■ JUSTICE AND TRUTH.