109 YEARS OLD.

Dominion, Volume 2, Issue 514, 22 May 1909, Page 6

109 YEARS OLD.

-WR. HENRY BUR LINO, 07 WAIKAHAf. 'A EEN SKETCH.

(Bi • "Wr.")

la a snag Kttk> homestead which nestles on tbo slopes of tho ooast hills-at Waikanae, ' looking. ont upon and beyond Kaprti, and tho great Pacific rollers which thunder on the king boach, there lives a man who has more years' to his life than, probably, any ot&er man Booth of tho lino, a enggostion which, of coarse, is opea to amendment. . He is 109 this month. Next May he will have passed through eleven decades—lßoo-1910. An octogenarian is usually an appropriate subject for congratulation, and the attainment of creator age than that by anything up to 14\years is a circumstance to' be .regarded with local pride. But Mr.-' Hopry Burling, tho subject of this sketch, was an octogenarian nearly thirty'years ago, and, judging by his present condition of vitality and his statements, must just havo been, in a maimer of speaking, in his. prime then. ■ , Preconceived Notions. B is necessary to haw a few preconceived notions concerning one's subject, olbo one would iwver cxperienco surprise or 'disappointment, and bo it seemed fitting that,

when in conmany with a personal friend of tho old gentleman, I visited him the other day at Waikanae, I should base my expectations somewhat on the prevailing : ideas on oentenarians generally. I pictured in imagination, sa very old, old man, withered, dimeyed, . toothless,, almost deaf, who merely existed, so to speak; and' whose frail vitality was maintained by a diet of what aro vul-; garly known as'."slops."; I also appropriated,; as a standard of judgment, tho popular idea that : abstemiousness, using ; the torm in its broadest sense, is conducive to ' longevity; : that a man who' aspires' to' the honour of being a centenarian mnst not smoke, , must not drink, mnst not do the oho hundred and fifty odd things which; philosophers tell > us, aro our vital undoing. I had to revise and amend;all tlieso.. : ■ We arriTCd'about midday; aid were cordially received : by ah old ; gentleman . who lookod 60, but actually was nearer 80, who informed thathis "father'! was jost : getting up. Hero'l deteriftined that, tho normal perspective of things human would not do

for this occasion. When a man of between 70 and 80 speiaks of his "father" as a living member of the household it'is time to realisethat tho situation is abnormal, as the Burling- household certainly is... . < ' ■;

Enter, ThoXeritonarlan. ! v We Bat down, and. presently there appeared in-the doorway a vigorous . old gentleman, oroct and stairdy-looking, with long, Bnowwhito hair: and. a crisp wbito beard which fairly bristled with vitality. His oomploxion was clear, his cheeks foil, his neck firm, and there was' hardly a ■ wrinkle on his faco. One of his ey<&,' the right,' was blind—-tho' result of an nccidfent—and tho strain through the years which followed the mishap had weakened the. other. ' The same accident had wrecked tho drum of 'the but tho - other , did fairly, good work for him. And yet he was 109 years old; he was born fi.yo years, boforo Trafalgar, and a boy soldier in tho year!of Waterloo! ' Wo roso, and my friend cordially greeted hiro. "Stop a bit 1 said tho old gentleman,' holding up his hand; "don't go too a bit suspicious, you know"; then as if satis-* fled with his scrutiny, lie shook hands. His grasp was firm, and his .hand, though lacking tho warmth of vigorous manhood, was nevertheless full and fleshy, not'tho skinny mummified paw which one. frequently grasps when grooting much "younger ' men. Anothor preconceived notion was cast adrift at dinner-time, wbon tho old gentleman > addressed himself with unmistakable vigour and relish to a savoury dish of steak pudding, demolishing every scrap, drank two cups erf tea. and finisnod .off with a substantial.helpinjg or apple-pio. . " Now, then," he said, when the meal was over,' "let's go out on tho verandah and havo a smoke."' Alas, for these preconceived notional Ho smoked,_ all tho afternoon, a straight-stemmed briar filled with tobaooo of average strength, and between.

tthe puffs he told ua of a Efe which engirt to inwe MM him hjnc agp, for, iS our philosophers areito.be behoved, be has defied'evoiy pnncrplo of longevity. The old man is proud of his ago. "Don't think, bocaueo I oan7 a Btick, that I can't got about without it. I cany it about for company—foel lonely without it, you know. Days of Long Ago. Ho is a native of Stratford, England, the England of the press-gang days, of the '•pig-tail," of "Old Bonoy"—terror of the little children—and of Nelson; an England without railways, when "po-chays," with their high-bred trotters, put up records on the turnpike roads. On reaching man's estate ha became a silk-printer by trade, married, and finally left for New Zealand, with a family of Beven, by the ship' London. "Not tie little 'London,"' he oxplained, "the big one ; about IKB tons, the second ship to sail into Wellington. xho first lot landed at Potone, tut that was .no place. The sand drifted over the huts, and often blocked them up. They'd have to dig a way to iiieir doors'." Carrying the Mans. Par yeaca, Henry Burling carried ttwmaiJs and dispatches from Wellington to tho Manawato, where he was mot by the .mailman from the north, who exchanged mails wi& him. The journey averaged about a week. "There wasn't a horse in the country; in thooe dayß," he said, "and'l had to foot it 1 there and back. Wnen I came to a river I took'off my dothea, tied them round my (neck, and waded or swam across. I've forded the Manawatu when it was about half a mile wide, in flood. 'Rheumatics' ? No — I was too tough for that. Never had a day's illness in my life." He indicated, with bis stick, the stroteh of beach whicn fronted Kapiti. "That was a risky stretch to travel when old 'Rangi' was rampaging about.- He was a great old warrior that. He was the man; who took-vengeance on tie settlers for the murder of his wife, and massacred a number of- them. He was right, according to his law. I well remember t£at time." A Perilous Mission. v "I.was coming along from the Manswotu end, and the.bush.was full of Maoris... Just about here I came on the chief of,the police, and a big party of armed men. "What's all the to-do about?'" 1 said. " 'Whore have you oomo fronvP" he asked me. "'WHero you're afraid, to go,'" I said. _ '"That's strange talk from, you, , Bailing,' he said. . <■ .

"■lt's the truth,' I said. .It . turned out that somebody'had fired two shots at a Maori girl who had gone down to the crcok for water, and Ttilled her. She was Eangi's wife. Tho consequence was that'Rangi took vengeance. i I told the chief of the police that if' be Bent his men ont they 'would bo killed to a certainty.- Anyway,' ho didn't, and I went on to Wellington, took the dispatches t6 the Governor, and told him what I thought about the trouble. 'Good God 1' ho said, 'what am Ito do?' At the .finish, I agreed to get dispatches through to' Ran^L. I always travelled 'naked,' as tno saying is, meaning that I never carried a gun. Mj ammunition was some spare pipes and tobacco, which I rised to give away. Tho wife didn't want mo to go, but I said it would .be all right—l' wasn't afraid of ; old * Rangi. Off, I went, and ,by and by I got licar; to Rangi's camp. He'd got . a big boll-tont for his headquarters. Rangi was at his tent-, door, ana Baw me ooming, although I never lot on- He give one of his dog-barks, so I knew; I was all; right'; I knew it was Jan ordor to his men to Jet me alone. There' was a big tree-root there, that I always used 1 to sit down on tin havo a smoke and a restj' so I sat down and filled my pipe. A Maori ran up. 'Hore, ; you,' he, said, 'Rangi waints you.' This was in Maori —I spoke pretty good Maori then. I-said: 'All right—Pm coming along. presently.' But he wouldnjt wait, and prodded me in tho back with his gun—l've got the mark yet. He snatched the pipe out of my mouth, and with that I jumped up and ran down the hill. Rangi■ saw me ooming,- and burst out laughing , I gave him the Governor's: message/ which pardoned him for tho massacre, saying that according to Maori law he_ had done right to avengo tho killing of his wifoi 'That's all right,' ho said.' '

A "Tapu" Mailman. . "He gave; men a little kit, which he said would make it safe for mo wherever I went. I continued my journey' and presently came on a lot of Maoris by a creek. I had takon off my clothes and the kit was inside my coat. 1 didn't know then what Rangi meant by giving mo the little kit, but I soon found out. The Maoris rushed me and took all my tobacco, cutting it up and dividing it round —there must have been about fifty picces. Then an old woman—sho was Rangi's mother -7-oanio up to me and talked fiercely, shaking her fist. She then grabbed my clothes, and out fell the little kit. Lord! You never saw such a fuss m all your life I The old lady dropped on her knoes and grovelled at my feet. The men collected all tho tobacoo picces and tried to stick them together, andbogged .me to take them back; I saw that I was tapu,' and that) they were in mortal fear of tho Qonsequenoes of thoir treatment of mo; I got homo all right after, that." 'His Philosophy. That' is only one incident in a long life of KtroggJo and adventure. had my ribs brtikoii, jawbono smashod, leg broken, nearly had mv neck broken in a bullock chain that blinded one of my eyes and did for tho dram of my ear. But I'm hero ?" _ "How many of a family havo you had, Mr. Burling?" I asked him. ■ "Only thirteen," ho said. "And your descendants?" . "Oh, I suppose there must bo about six hundred of them, 1 all over the plaoe." ; Wo then took farowdl of the old gentleman, and wished him many moro years of life. "Well," ho said, very seriously, "the Lord in His wisdom will decido that. I shall be ready when the day comes, and I'm very thankful that I'have been given tho wisdom and understanding to realiso that—Good-byo, and God bless' tho both of ye."