SCENE BETWEEN TWO M.L.C’s.

Dunstan Times, Issue 598, 3 October 1873, Page 3

SCENE BETWEEN TWO M.L.C’s.

The following story comes from Wellington, and is well authenticated and believed to be strictly correct (says the “ Southern Cross). This is how it happei ed Two honorable and apparently snge members of tbe Upper House were taking their customary relaxation from their arduous leoislative duties, and were reclining peaceably in the luxurious and soothing chairs with which the Parliamentary smoking room is furnished, toasting their jolly old toes at the blazing coal fire (Newcastle, worse luck) and vacantly smoking the calumet of peach One of them is the valiant Colonel B, who has seen many years of service under India's ardent skies, and has led many a forlorn hope, and is one of the old school who still believes in the applicability of the “ gentleman’s argument’’—twelve paces, and your feather edge to your foe. He belongs to the pilgrim's Province, and is a general favorite. The other is the Hon. Mr. H., who was once a member of a wealthy Australian tinn, ami is now “ sheeping ” it on a big run in Otago. One, the soldier, is a warm supporter of the Government; the other, who is of tbe Scotch persuasion, is an opponent. Suddenly, quoth Mr. H. to Colonel B. the Government so warmly ? what do they .give you for your support ?” Says Colonel B. to Mr. H., his moustache bristling with ill suppressed wrath, “ I support them because I think they deserve it ; they give me nothing and they wouldn’t try to insult mo by offering anything.” Some other words passed, and at last said the irritated East Indian, “ Confound it, 1 never went on a visit to Melbourne with my hat cocked on one side, giving it out that I was a member of the New Zealand ministry,” tbe fact being that while Mr. H. was in Melbourne last year, when a mi.:concept, ion was found to be beeping itself quietly floating about that the said Mr. 11. was a Minister, when in fact he was no more a Minister than I am. Words waxed lug!;, am! the fragrant incense of the peaceful pipe threatened to be changed into the dun smoke of war. It was but a war of words ; and thus it ended, tbe man of war being the speaker “ Sir, you bad no right to speak to me as you did; you are a cad, sir, ami I am a gentleman ; you arc no more to h‘ compared to me than lam to tbe Duke of Wellington !” And so they parted, Mr. 11., after this sally, retiring from the room.