THE LOAFER IN THE STREET.

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume 4, Issue 364, 16 January 1880, Page 2

THE LOAFER IN THE STREET.

Did you ever read the "Lives of Eminent Pirates and Sea Robbers ?" I did, and liked it. I should at one time have liked to be a sea robber or a highwayman. I have changed since. Celebrities of this class usually get hung up by the neck till they are dead. Fame of this class is comparatively useless. Biographies are only occasionly interesting, for Boswells are very scarce. Mr Henry Kingsley once said he would some day write a history of eminent bil-liard-markers. My taste don't lay in that direction, but I fancy I could write a very amusing paper on the lives of celebrated coach-drivers. What a list could I give, from Ned Devine to the cheerful Sprightly who nearly broke my neck on the Grey, Old Sheppcrd, Kr> \, Mm tin Stobie, Dick Greening, .' > n .i. ' It' ip- <»l the other r >iii>i> j. \ i S i i > V > I ' j X I a^m\ ; l\>» ci V « i 1 i 'i .md Maine. I could, indeed, and I've a great mind to do it next year if you are

*~ a———-in ri ——;jJJ_Li"" **" ngreeable. The people I've mentioned always are. I thought of this on the _ top of the coach the other day going to of the Bay. It may be as well to tell your readers at once that I was going down to report races for your admirable journal, and that not being a sporting cuss myoelf, I felt as much "out of place as I well could do, I didn't say so. Every person connected with a newspaper knows something about everything. Bless your soul, if the Admirable Crichton were to come here now I could find a dozen reporters that could ran rings round him. I think, in fact I'm sure, it's in "Rob Roy" that Sir Walter Scott asserts that no matter Ibow modest—how unassuming a man Imay be, he cannot stand being thonght a bad horseman or a bad judge of a lliorse. The only man in this country I ever met who actually allowed to me that he knew nothing of horseflesh, was a party belonging to your office, who I asked to take a ticket in a horse raffle, and who declined the ticket on those grounds. He told—but why take up these tkings when the man is here still, and measures forty-five inches round the <chest. There are times when even Juvenal would slip his whip in his As I was saying before, I get discursive. I was thinking out my racing campaign on the top of the coach en route to the' Peninsula, and sitting beside my jold friend Bob Main. There is nothing new "under the sun, especially about the Akaroa road. I wish there were ; but I am afraid even a long enduring, person like the editor of this paper wouldn't stand a irechauffe of the thousand and one accounts we have had of this journey. 'William Shakespeare created a character -once who could find sermons in stones, books iv the running brooks, and good ;in everything. No one but William could have thought of such a traveller. -I'm not that way. I wish I were, for what a special I should make. Now in this case I can find nothing to even point a moral, or adorn a tale the whole road along. It was very pretty, and it being a very pleasant day, and Bob amusing, I enjoyed myself. . You don't want to know about the crops, do you ? Of course not. I could make "some capital out of them, and had I the art of limning J could amuse you with sketches I might have taken of people we met (it was Christmas Day) going out for the clay. Many years ago M. Froissart observed jj,hat Englishmen took their pleasure f sadly. Bulwer Ljtton makes a similar remark in a play you may have heard of, - the " Lady of Lyons." The Englishmen we met were very sad looking. - " They were apparently going either to church to see their mothers-in-law or to - funerals. What a nice merry race Englishmen are. I cannot be enthusiastic •- ~iabout Christmas here. Except bills there are no associations. Church, dinner, sisters, cousins, and aunts, including babies in the afternoon, more .gorging and more relations in the evening, and that's Christmas here. I don't jispeak on my own authority, but on that of many young friends from whose private relations I have with much care compiled the above account of the festive season here. It may be taken as statistical, and I should say was perhaps the most reliable and interesting part of the present communication — especially to ;new arrivals. Now, I liked my day, I liked the scenery, I liked my yarn, liked Jhe placid lake and the stately swans on it. No, I won't do it. I was very near getting on the paint, but it wouldn't be fair on the road. I stayed at Mr Brooks' jit the Head os the Bay. It is a fine commodious hotel, with good accommodation for visitors, and as an old traveller I can say I was very comfortable. For the benefit of future visitors I wish to relate a small experience. I forgot my razor. There is no barber yet settled in Duvauchelle's Bay. I fancy it would scarcely pay him. I met three friends of mine shortly after arrival, Messrs Shadbolt, Piper, and Lee. The two former have been on the Peninsula for many lustres, Mr Lee knows everyone, -».I confided to them my difficulty. The first, two gentlemen, after mature consideration, assured me that to the best of their belief no one in those parts had ■.ever shaved since their arrival. Mr Lee suggested I should walk about amongst the crowd and watch for a fellow with a shaved chin. It was a lengthened vigil, so to speak, but I got my man at last— shaved smooth as a button. He was a kindly man, and, heaven forgive him, he lent me his razor. In the privacy of my own room I toiled real hard with that instrument. A fairer trial was „.never given to any implement. Real large beads of perspiration poured off my urow. Tears, not idle tears, flowed down my cheeks. I walked forth a „ humbling sight—a sanguinary object. We live. We learn. I had learned what a man may accomplish with a razor when he sets his mind to it. I also had learned that when you go to the Peninsula it's best—well, not shave. Some sporting writer says all race meetings are alike. It may be so. I'm not a judge, but, speaking according to my light, I should say, if this be the case, "the H«ad of the Bay meeting must be the exception that proves the rule. The course here is on the sand, and the races arc of course dependent on the tide. If * the events are not run off punctuality, the horses run through the water for a considerable distance. This makes things much more interesting. It is an equine regatta, an aquatic horse race. It is— I'm blessed if 1 know what it is, except -that it Is very funny. The racing section©f tfae public excepted, no one seemed to take a very absorbing interest in the racing until the horses actually came to the finish. Some capital foot racing took place, but a feature of the performance, which was to me, I confess, utterly

incomprehensible, was the Model Yacht race. Some toy boats were started along distance off, and cruised about indefinitely, each shepherded by a crew in a rbwing bf'.'it. M:iinly, so far as I could judge, from the assistance of their pilots in the rowing boat, the model yachts arrived promiscuously at their respective destinations, and some one it is natural to suppose won the stake, but the principles of the game ore still veiled in mystery from yours truly. The sport is very nearly as interesting as a real yacht race to an,onlooker, only I must in justice say you see rather more of it. I didn't disgrace the office though. To this minute I believe the boys down there think I'm a judge of model yachts, pedestrianism, and horse racing. I think really if you expect a fellow to show himself an expert in so many things it ought to tell in the matter of expenses. The boys were very kind down there to your representative. Hospitality was poured over him. Mr Shadbolt took me over his place. Not all over, because the end of it occurs several miles up hill, and its the rule of your office to take views for granted. Mr Piper was the same, if you will excuse the grammar. Mr Lee sent me a nice drive with my old friend Joe McFarlane to Wainui. Away past French Farm, Mr Knight's beautiful place and a lot of little snug bays, where people make cheese and batter and grow grass seed, and do well thereby ; where there is excellent fishing, and where there are roads so good they would astonish a Christchurch citizen. So from thence, as old Pepys would say, to Mr Birdling's place, which from its natural advantages alone, will be one of the most beautiful places in the island. It has associations. So few places here have associations except perhaps fleas. Mr Birdling's place has. In early days the North Island Maoris nsed to come clown and visit their Southern confreres. As a rule they fought, and on this very peninsula, where fat oxen do now tranquilly browse, the Northerners used to cook the Southcners, and eat them quite in a friendly manner. The ramparts thrown up by the Vauban of the period are there even unto this day. These reminiscent assosociations are nice to have about a place. At least I should think so. Did I go to Akaroa ? Certainty I did. There are associations on that road too. In a garden about hJf-way between Duvauchelle's Bay and Akaroa—in German Bay as it is called now—is the site of the French commandant's camp. Here, according to the statement of old Robinson Clough, the Court was held to determine the Maori sovereignty of the Southern Island, and here, according to the same authority, " Bloody Jack " offered to toss the other claimant for the kingdom " one pop " or " best two out of three."