THE SUNDOWNER'S SWAG.

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume 3, Issue 238, 29 October 1878, Page 2

THE SUNDOWNER'S SWAG.

" J. Gilpin was a Citizen."

~. "Ratepayers' Roll." Well, I just about am, no bones about it, the quintessence of an egotistical old humbug. I have been trotting myself out, j showing my paces, flaunting my pedigree, and gassing about my running powers for the Mayoral Stakes, but nary a word have I uttered either in praise or disparagement of the other hacks—l mean " osses " — who are going in against me for that scurry. 1 shall land that pot safe enough, it's a sure thing for me, I know it; yet, I must not hold my opponents too cheap, for don't I know that many a jockey has j been out-jockeyed through holding " the ruck " in contempt. Now for agoin on the " nothing extenuate or set down aught in malice" business as regards the other blood stock who may be competitors in the running which I shall cut out. Now, on paper, Garwood's old horse Sour Kraut doesn't look so bad, pedigree will do, you know—the cross of Lager Beer and Bologna Sausage is notorious for wind power ; but James knows, I believe, that, although the " old un " has been a good performer in his day, ye+ that day is done. Then there is that skittish colt of Mr Venus', Heelball, by Whacks and Tacks, by Soles and Uppers, by Weltum Leathers, Ac. Good colt—in fact, a nice colt, with splendid action, but decidedly unreliable. That colt will be nowhere in the race, but everywhere about the course. I have not forgotten his kicking powers, especially at the sight of our opponent His Worship. " His Worship !" Ah, there's a " oss " —after me—that's a stayer! That grand old Pestle and Mortar, together with the Pharmacopoeia strain is— played out. I am—Electors individually, remember Jack, and— " Stretch forth your hand like a brother, Remember that life's but a span ; "lis our duty to help one another, And do a good turn when we can." Ido like consulting an expert—a man who knows you know, and who, from the heights of his knowledge, looks down with supercilious disdain upon those puny mortals who are, in his opinion, beneath him in the special knowledge in which he considers himself supremely proficient. There is another thing, however, which I like better than the consultation business and which I thoroughly enjoy, and that is " having" a person of the " knows you know" school. Somewhere about these regions, it doesn't matter particularly where, there is a gentleman who is great in all matters connected with the Brassica family—l beg your pardon, Councillor I mean the cabbage business, and who in addition considers himself Al in matters of grafting, budding, &c, as well as being able to distinguish, by the wood and leaf, what particular shrub or tree any broken twig may have belonged to. Gomes to this expert a young man, " with smile that is child-like and bland," and produces a rusty-looking bit of stick, embellished with two shrivelled-up and " out-on-the-spree-looking " leaves. Says the mild ycung man :—" I say, can you tell me what sort of a rose this is, and do you think you could graft from it ?" The experienced hand took the damaged looking specimen, gazed at it both front and rear, gave it a '■ gardener's Latin " name, was " not quite sure if it could be got to grow as it seemed too withered, would try it, but must first see if there was any sap left in it;" took out his knife and cut—into some twisted wires. That expert used language to the mild young man, and the M.V.M. vindicated his conduct by saying " he picked up the specimen outside Garwood's, and thought it was something very uncommon." However, that young *nan " sinoled a smile " which was not exactly that of a simpleton. Ah, well— I " Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good, But graciously to know I am no better."

I used to "glory in my strength," to do the ."Shanghai Rooster" cock-a-doodle-doo over mj'fighting weight being ''ten stun six;" but now I ani a poor woe-begone wreck— I have lost the fighting belt, iost my conceit, lost "caste and creed," and all through Fiddleye • having taken to the ( pugilistic line, besides undertaking to give lessons " in the noble art of self-defence." It ia strange, " passing strange," that no sooner do I get my name up as a proficient in any particularly commendable manner, such as fighting, than someone rushes in, snatches the greenery from my classical brow, takes from me that which was never his, " and leaves me poor indeed." " Oh, my prophetic " — Never mind, Jack, old man, " what can't be cured must be endured." After all, perhaps, it is just as well that Fiddleye stepped in and took my place in the pugilistic world, for I have a strong opinion that my fighting weight often took me into low and naughty bad company ; that it often, ah, far too often, caused me to wander from those paths of rectitude and strict sobriety which are my invariable (?) characteristics ; that, like adversity, it introduced me to strange " bed and board " fellows; that it helped to make me what I am—a dilapidated pariah among pariahs, a professional sundowner. " Gird up your lions," Fiddleye, and wade in, follow my lead, look at Jack's rags and ragged character, stick to pugilism, and " all these, all these are thine." Well, I think I have iust about done my duty. I iiavc moralized nnd beautifully (?) eer monixei ; if this does not cure you of lighting proclivities, F., I am afraid your

case is a far gone one. Mark me, you are welcome to the belt and my fighting weight, and say, F.—

"I do want to fight, for by jingo if I flinch, They'll say Jack sings so small a tune, he's nowhere at a pinch."

My dear old lady friend. Ido not know how, in many many ways, I should get on without her. Fortunate for me, and herself too, her education was neglected, so that she "holds me guiltless" of inkslinging in the columns of the Mail. I met the dear old soul a few days since, and, in my usual jaunty style, with the fire of poesy, exclaimed--" where are you going my pretty maid ?" " John," said the old lady, with an ominous frown, "you have been drinking again, I can tell it by your speech, so do not deny it." I pleaded guilty—the charge was true. But to shift tho conversation, which was far too personal for me, I enquired—" where had she been ?" " Well, John," was the rejoinder, " I have been down looking where Mr Horsepull is going to build his new house; it is a lovely spot, and he must be going to put up a fine place, for I see they are fomenting the foundations." " Mother of Moses," I gasped, who is Mr Horsepull, where is he going to build, and is it hot or cold fomentations he is applying to his foundations ?" " Hot or cold," sneered the venerable dame, "why John, your thoughts are always on drink; hot or cold indeed, Why yoa know as well as I do that Mr Horsepull is the gentleman who is going to settle at Green's Point, so just walk there, and you can see for yourself what foment is." I cottoned at once, I understood that Mr Toaswill was the gentleman my. esteemed friend meant, so I at once followed my nose to Green's point to find out what the " fomenting the foundations" meant, and how that peculiarly arduous task was accomplished. I looked around, saw the men at work, wondered and wondered, but could not solve the problem. At last one of the men went to a cask, took some cement therefrom, and proceeded to use it. I had it The foment was cement, and the fomenting was the using of cement in making concrete. No mistake about it, 1 do like that venerable friend of mine. " And that's the reason, ladies. I'm still your partisan, For being single-hearted, I rest a single man." Adieu.