THE SUNDOWNER'S SWAG.

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume 2, Issue 172, 12 March 1878, Page 2

THE SUNDOWNER'S SWAG.

" The Pipes Struck up."

" Diatonics and Chromatics."

It may suit the listlessly apathetic members of the Akaroa and Wainui Road Board District, but "it won't suit Charley Baker"—that's me, Jack, poetized. I miss the music of Road Board oratory, music which is dear—no, oh no, not at any price —to in}' sensitively strung constitution ; music which I look for, at regularly stated intervals, as naturally as my hand clutches at a square bottle of aromatic waters. " Oh, Johnny, we have missed you," and your resonant-trumpet. "Bennie, dear Bennie, come home with me now," and bring your little fiddle. Freddy's Jew's harp is very irritating when played fortissimo without any accompaniment, for I do not count the seconder as much in the orchestra; he may have a lot of melody in him, but if be has he takes good care to keep it there ; what little he does let out comes in miserly doles as if he begrudged parting with the sounds of his own production ; I may be wrong—l often am—but it strikes me that parting and the silent seconder are not on intimate terms. But boys,* seriously, don't you think you have treated me badly ?—Confound the ratepayers, they are nonentities. Twice have meetings been called ; and, like the Duvauehelle Bay don't-care-about-educa-tionists, twice has there been no meeting. The " third and last time " of asking, as C. W. B. so energetically calls out, only brought tbe dear old Maestro Piper, the harp, and second Scotch fiddle to their seats in the orchestra. See, Johnny, if this is not altered, I won't blow your trumpet; I'll put a stopper on that melodious instrument. Bennie. leave those naughty "osses" alone, or I'll spank you with the Mail. Attend to business both of you without any—

'"But yet,' I do not like ' but yet ;' it does allay The good precedence ; fie upon ' but yet;' 1 But yet' is as a jailer to bring forth Some monstrous malefactor." Who hasn't read or heard recited " Ye doleful Hystory of Alonzo ye brave, and ye Fayre Imogene," and who that has heard that wondrously ghost-producing, blue-iiredly thrilling narrative, does not remember" the " Baron all covered with jewels and gold who arrived at fair Imogene's door," as well as tbe little seductive game played, by the aforesaid Baron, upon the too tenderly susceptible feelings of the

foresworn but fair damsel of <l ye history J 1 Now I know a Baron—not the " all-covered-with-jewels-and-gold " dignitary, but a real live Baron, and this full-fledged specimen of -'nature's nobility" was recently on the grand tour. Among other places honored and visited by the titled stranger was a village in which is located a mill, with powerful water privileges and, as the miller is hospitably inclined' the Baron made the mill his temporary abiding place. It does not matter what our station in life may be—whether we are titled or not—we are bound at some time or other to have a feeling of ennui creep over us, and tills was one of the experiences which came home, to the Baron. He felt wearied, dull, and athirst, so, as an aid toward removing these feelings, he summoned some of the villagers to his company, and hinted at a fashionable diversion known in select society as •' Yankee grab." Tlie rustics, nothing loth, went in for several touches of "bob in and winner shouts," "dry half-crowns," and other innocent games, at all of which nobility happened to come out best. The " lads of the village" were equal to the occasion, for as fast as they lost they borrowed the money from the Baron.to pay him their losses, the consequence being that at the close of the festivities, the Baron found himself to be the only ioser. Innocent villagers, very I

" Innocence, that as a veil Had shadowed them from knowing ill, was gone, Just confidence, and native righteousness, And honour from about them.

There was in Akaroa a society, whose aim and intentions was, I thought, worthy tha support of all', but of whose doings, or even name, I have not heard anything of for a considerable length of time. The society I am, as Mrs Partington said, " deluding to," is tbe " Mutual Improvement." I am puzzled to know whether or not this society haß -' lived its little hour " only to " pass away and be no more seen," or rather heard. In ' places such as Akaroa, I look upon it that societies such as the one I have named, if properly kept up and carried on, are capable of being a means toward achieving a , great deal of moral and intellectual good, and so strongly do I feel upon this subject that I think I did oil one occasion ask to be admitted to the privileges of membership, but no one volunteered—although I published my references as to respectability and eligibility —to do "the one thing needful." If the members of that society had only received me as one of tbe fraternity, I know that I could, whilst unburthening " my surcharged conscience," have put them up to more wrinkles than * they ever dreamt of, but—bah, enough of myself, I am getting egotistical, and I contend that a man who meanders into that self-glorifying state deserves, like Dr Pangloss, to have A.S.S. written after his name. What I want to do—only my ways of doing are so peculiar—-is this, to stir up the originators of this society into making a fresh start. Go into it again, gentlemen, whole hearted, and give your fellow citizens intellectual amusement and instruction to help while away the "dreary winter time:"

" There is in every human heart Some not completely barren part, Where .seeds of truth and love might grow, And flowers of generous virtue flow.; To plant, to watch, to water there, This be our duty, be our care."

They are at it again are those irrepres- X sible geniuses, the wits and would-be wits —the very funny men which abound everywhere, and who always have a laugh ready for their own vapid utterances; fellows who see their own jokes, which is far more than anyone else can. The census papers are the latest skirmishing ground on which these geniuses have been exercising their peculiar idiosyncrasy. That remarkably funny old gentleman, Mr Hard Case Bones and Bottles, has been struck comical over his census schedule, and this is the way he shows his original comicality :—Opposite the heading of " Turkeys," jocular old Hard Case writes " Joseph ;" after "other kinds," he. scribbles "Boss;" opposite ■ " Weight of butter," " all good ;" and asnf an answer to " Cheese,, annual production," flourishes out the word "Templars," with a capital T, that he must have thought "just the cheese." Whois laughing at the drolleries of Merry Andrew Hard Case? I cannot! I can only pity the poor old boy for wasting his witticisms on such barren soil, and hope, that "he may see the error of his ways" before it is too late for him to amend. Hard Case has not amused me, but my flowery friend Sveet Villyam has, for " Sveetest of Villyum's * domicile being awfully pestered with rodents, Villyum was determined thati others beside himself should know of this important fact. After answering all previous queries . properly, Villyum came to tho question of stating what "other kinds, of stock " he was possessed of, and, thinkfe ing at once of the foor-footed long-tails, he wrote — " Any adjective quantity of rats ! " Vich scores vim for Villyum. I wonder if Tennyson knew Will, I think he must, for he wrote :— " 0 well for him whose will is strong, He suffers, but he will not suffer long, He suffers, but he cannot suffer wrong." And— So Long. 1 *