THE ACTIVE MAN.

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume 4, Issue 316, 29 July 1879, Page 3

THE ACTIVE MAN.

(Hornet)

The active man is about forty years of ao-e. He is round rather than stout, full colored rather than pale, wears beard and moustaches of dark brown hair, and has a remarkably white and shiny forehead. His face is radiant, his speech is radiant, but his legs are dazzling. You can no more be conscious of his presence and insensible to hie legs than you can shut up your attention from the cornet in a band of three instruments. As he stands at a.corner talking to a friend, his legs seem to be on the point of running away from his body

and dashing down four ways at once. These legs are never for a moment still. He poises on his toes, thrusts the.heel of tho right foot into the. hollow of the left. He waggles his knees, juts his hips, tnrns bis toes in, turns his toes out, bends both legs to the left, bends both legs to the right, pats the ground with the ball of the right foot, pats the ground with the ball of the left, and then dances away from his friend as though he were endeavoring to overtake and capture a swallow. Hia great theory is that everything in this world can be done by " seeing " some one or other in London. He is willing at a moment's notice to rush from Knightsbridge to Wapping" to see some man there who can tell him the difference between a brig and a brigantine, which information he requires to settle a wager of a penny against an orange between two of his casual acquaintances. He is eager to rush from Tunbridge to Trafalgar Square to see, for the satisfaction of his own curiosity whether the paws of the lion are turned in or turned down. He knows where the best of eveything is to be got, an will not allow himself to be imposed on by distance. The very best wax matches are to be had at a certain shop in High street, Islington, and be never dreams of buying matches anywhere else. The best cigars are to be got at a certain shop in Bond street, and he never dreanis of buying cigars anywhere else. He goes to Thames street for fish, and to Barnsbury for pants. He would no more entrust the man who makes his trousers with the fitting of his waistcoats than he'd permit the cutter of his coat to do either. He.buys his shoes in Regent street, and his" shoe laces on the Euston road. He is sorcetary of a football club, president of an archery club, and treasurer of a coal-distributing society. He is executor of four and trustee of six wills. He is a powerful man in electioneering times, for he knows everyone, and is universally liked. He can give you the address of any man much more quickly and quite as accurately as the Post. Office Directory. He can tell you how many children every person of your acquaintance has, and what profession the boys are destined for. But it is as an interviewer he is roost distinguished. He will call on any man, no matter how high his position or how low. If he sees a child knocked down by a cab and carried to the hospital, see the head resident surgeon, call on the head visiting surgeon, call on the secretary of the hospital, call on two of the directors of the hospital, and finally upon the poor woman whose child has been hurt. He is interested in every thing he hears "of or sees, and takes an equal intrest in' all. The result is that he is one of the men best informed on current subjects, and consequently one of the mostinteresting of callers. He is skilful in what he communicates, always taking care that his news is interesting to his hearer. He does not begin with a question, but generally with some piece of intelligence which he knows will be new and surprising to his listener. And still he always steers clear of anything approching treachery. Everyone he knows is his " friend," and he would not jeopardise tlie position or happiness of any friend. But then his friends, tell him things about other people whom he doesn't know, and about whom he is under no obligation of secrecy when secrecy is not imposed by the communicative friend. He also makes it a rule never to give the name of his informant, and thus his news gets from one place to another with as little Bavoury personality as appears in the record of a Morse receiving machine. The Active Man is a bachelor. He is not long-lived. He prefers to burn out rather than rust out, and at forty-three he dies.' He is too active to be long ill, and goes out of the great world as quickfy as he went about in the great city.