WAY SIDE NOTES.

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume 2, Issue 134, 30 October 1877, Page 2

WAY SIDE NOTES.

[by an Occasional contributor.J Situated'in the rear of the Immigration Barracks, and not, so much remarkable for its imposing structure, as for the neat and thorough-manner! of its building, the district hospital stands, an ever present instance of Government maladministration and folly. As it is at present, the Professor's'rjumping bar is a useful piece of architecture'in comparison. Why it has been dodnped ,J to "waste its (present) sweetnesslon the desert air" in emptiness and neglejct, has been to me a source of unlimited], conjecture, until the other day, when myijEriend, H, who knows all sorts of things nqjother fellow can find out, gave me the following stratght tip :—He says he has it.irom "the best authority," that the present Ministry is so weak, it is to be sent down here to recruit, and that the buildingyan question is reserved for its occupation. lam not startled at this in the least, because I have heard rumours before of Akaroa being the seat of Government; but I hope, in justice' to the country,'that they will all be placed in the incurable ward. (Parliamentary papers please copy).

A laconic chum of mine appeared on this gay and restive scene per the steamer last week, and, of course, I showed him round. We "stood on the bridge at midnight," near Bruce's Hotel, and in the soft moonlight revelled in a feast of thought. Suddenly; my companion muttered "can't be a trig station—meat safe, probably;—perhaps, where the boss keeps his cash or hangs the dinnergong." Following the direction of his line of sight, I became aware that he alluded to that abnormally hideous way-side—the water tanks. Blushing for my adopted city, I resolved to keep the secret, or die. Leading him aside, I whispered—" no, no, not a meat safe, in the strictest confidence let me inform you it's where the Borough Seal is kept; but not a word to a soul, only a few know it, and that's why THEY WON'T MOVE THE THING." He heaved a deep sigh of relief—a regular Indian Famine Relief—and suggested a drink. Subsequently he left, a wiser and a happier man than I, who remained behind with the knowledge that I was doomed to day after day this monstrosity on the face of nature.

_ A very ancient way-side, so ancient and time-worn that it was a mere skeleton, has " gone from our gaze." It went by the soubriquet of " Old Moonlight." I don't know why it bore this name, unless it was because it showed to full, or rather empty advantage in its hugh gaunt nakedness when the moon's rays lit it up. While it existed it was a source of unmitigated interest to travellers, and a perfect terror to festive horses. I allude to the old skeleton of a punt at Duvauchelle's Bay. Report says that the poor attenuated old thing developed signs of consumption by some internal fires, and rapidly dwindled away at the last, while firewood, as an item of domestic expenditure, was not in demand in its immediate locality; but I hate these aspersions on respectable localities. The way I discovered its absence, was owing to the intelligence of my horse " Nor-wester," so called, because he is given to " kicking up a dust" as the saying is. On previous occasions when arriving at ■'Old Moonlight," this animal has invariably persisted m turning sharp round, with the intention of returning in the direction from whence he came: When my obstinacy has failed to see the force of this, and I have turned his head again with the intention of resuming my journey, he never failed to rise straight up on his hind feet, and go through oertain manual exercises, during which my hat falls off, and it is only by digging my fingers into his nostrils that I retain my seat. Having dismounted and resumed my hat, directly I get on again, he lifts the other end of him, depositing me between his ears, so that finding resistance useless, I have been in the habit of dragging him by the tail backwards, and so past the dreaded object. Last week, however, being deep in thought, it was only when I reached the Head of the Bay, that a sense of something unusual having occurred struck me, and then I remembered that my accustomed exercise of pulling my horse for a certain distance by his caudal appendage had been somehow dispensed with. On my return, I noticed tne cause of this satisfactory state of affairs—the skeleton was gone. I dare say there are many others besides myself who will drop a tear to its memory, perhaps two, of unalloyed joy. The evil that it did is interred with its bones, and the good will ever remain among the darkest mysteries!