THE SUNDOWNER'S SWAG.

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume 2, Issue 162, 5 February 1878, Page 2

THE SUNDOWNER'S SWAG.

Oh! Ah! Hum!" "Just So." As true as " there is nothing new under the sun" so true is it that " there is nothing new" in my repeating my disbelief j in the genuineness of promises made by "those in authority over us." Months! since, when the Hon. G. M'Lean promised " the people's William " that tha road to] the site of the contemplated lighthouse, at-| the north head of Akaroa harbor,. should. be at once commenced and proceeded witti,, I expressed my doubts, in the columns of the Mail, as to whether that promise ihader would be strictly kept, or whether it was not a mere evasion to quiet the questioner. Subsequent, events have proved that tbe last surmise was a correct one, for, up to the present time, nothing has been done toward preparing for the building of the lighthouse. If "what was stated by Mr M'Lean be correct, the lantern, and other necessaries connected with the light, should be in the colony in about four months from now. A storehouse, instead of the lighthouse, must then be their abiding place, until such time as the official mind think it desirable to commence what should have been finished long before tho arrival

of these essentials. For procrastination over this matter, the Grey Government are every bit as bad as the Atkinson ; the summer is gliding away, and with it the. necessary fine weather for the proper execution of such works as the making of a road to, and the levelling of the site, as well as the erection of the necessary buildings connected with the light. Surely some pressure should be brought to bear upon the Government in connection with this much-wanted and much-promised necessity. What do our local governments think, and what do you think, Mr Latter ?

"Give me the ocular proof— Make me see't, or at the least, so prove it, That the probation bear no binge, nor loop> To hang a doubt upon."

How often we read and hear tell of cruelties practiced upon "the lords of creation" by the "fair sect"—of injuries received, and of terrible things threatened. " Man's inhumanity to man " is as nothing compared to woman's treatment of man— for instance in my case—" there is a flower that bloometh" who won my prize, and " this fond heart beats only for thee" chucked in to make up the weight, but she won't look at John—that's my Sabbatanical sober name, I am Johnny when maudlin drunk and snuffling sentimental, and Jack when rousing around and " passing the rosy " —but, " Oh, ah, hum, just so " —Yes, of course lam wandering. This was how it was:—Says he—"What's the matter with its petsy tetsy and ducksy wucksy, what has been riling its pooty temper, and making it stick up its back, and pull back, like a Thomas Cat practising thorough bass or leading a troubadour entertainment ?" Says she, in the mellifluous tongue of ancient Greece—" Be af wid ye, ye miserable skiliton ; take yer rag-covered bones out ay this kitchen, or, be the powers ay Moll Kelly, I'll put the wretched remains ay ye in the copper, bedad I will." Says he—" Can its sweetest spell a-b-l-e, able, and how would its darling handy pandy's manage it ? " Says she—" Ye contemptible sniveller, able is it; och, Mother ay Moses," and then there was a rush and a scrimmage, and, without exactly knowing how, he found himself in the kitchen copper. Shortly afterwards, a "sadder and wiser man," with a very crest-fallen demeanour, left that kitchen, uttering language, not lovingly pretty, but dreadfully wicked, oh, so shocking and naughtily wicked. "When he spoke, what tender words he usd! ; So softly, that like flakes of feather'd snow, They melted as they fell." A couple of estimable friends of mine— not sundowners, but both of them members of the peerage, one of them being a Marquis and the other a Count—were, as is usual with the quality, recently conversing as to the financial and other prospects of the colony, dwelling particularly, in the course of their conversation, upon the statistical returns of the Custom's revenue collected in Canterbury last year, and generally remarking upon the facts as shown thereby. Close to the two arguefiers and reasoners, and intently absorbed' in their utterances, was little Yon Sleeveboard, the vegetarian, who was apparently taking in the sum and substance of every sentence. As time went on, the disputants got more enthralled with the subject' matter upon which they were exercising their mental faculties, and in the course of argument the Count, I believe, quoted Adam Smith's "Wealth of Nations" as bearing him out in his ideas. The mention of " Wealth of Nations" fetched little Yon Sleeveboard ; he gaped at the Count, winked cunningly, expectorated, cleared his throat, and remarked—"Wealth of Nations! Ah, this is just according to Aristotle ;" he then scowled defiantly at the Marquis, shook his head gloomily, and subsided. The Count was astounded ;he looked with an air of astonished incredulity at the little man, and gasped out — " Why what are you sewing at now, Yon Sleeveboard, what in the name of St. Cabbage has Aristotle got to do with the Customs revenue of New Zealand, and in what way do you prove that he has?" A succession of winks more leary and cunning than any of his former productions quivered and danced around Yon Sleeveboard's right eyelid, as he replied - " Oh, generally, generally, of course, generally," and this was all tbe response the nobility could obtain. To this hour the Marquis and Count are puzzling themselves as to Yon Sleeveboard's meaning, and so am I. Locke says:—

" The understanding turns inward on itself, and reflects on its own operations."

A good anecdote reaches me from what I consider a reliable source. It seems that some Hymns have recently been printed, and published for sale, in a township of Canterbury. I have nothing to say as to the literary merits or demerits of this " Bantling of the Press," but I have something to tell as to the way the work Was played upon two of the clerical gentlemen whose sphere of duty is in and adjacent to the township in question. By a combination of circumstances, difficult to fathom, or yet to comprehend, the Revs. Messrs X. and Z. each received by post a copy of these hymns, and each was respectively informed on the wrapper that the other had sent it with his compliments. Shortly after the receipt of their respective copies, tha Rev. gentlemen casually met. Said Mr X.—" By-the-bye, Z., I have to thank you for that copy of hymns you sent me." Z. looked astonished, but replied—" I must return the compliment, and thank you for the copy you sent me." But, said X.— " I never "sent you a copy." " Neither did I you," replied. Z. A look of blank amazement crept over the two clerical countenances ; each stepped back a pace, and glared at the other; they felt themselves to tell if they were waking or dreaming ; suddenly a light dawned upon the inner consciousness of Z., his face was irradiated, and he said —" X., the wiles of the wicked have been worrying around us. The Sons of Belial have been trying to come it over us, but tho hand of the heathen shall not prevail. Yea, and verily, inethinks I smell the sulphurous breath, and see the cloven hoof of Pastepot Scissors, the ragman, in this work of iniquity, Alas! alas I" Then two manly breasts beat as one, a double-barrell'd groan of deeply sepulchral sound was " wafted to the winds," another groan in the minor key of dismally dreadful dolefuls stepped out to " follow my leader," two heads were shook in sympathetic unison, and—-the Sundowner drops the curtain over the balance of these harrowing details : he's thirsty. "Oh ! Ah! Hum ! Just so."

" Taking our sorrows sorrowfully, Sorrow augmenteth our malady ; Taking our sorrows merrily, Mirth salveth sorrows most soundly, Be merry, frienda 1" So long.