THE GAS QUESTION.

Evening Star, Volume VII, Issue 1973, 1 September 1869, Page 2

THE GAS QUESTION.

To the Editor of the Eveninq Star. My dear Mr Editor.— My cousin Jul'e begs me to offer yon hj r sincere apology for the abrupt termination to her epistle to you the other evening. I believe on that occasion she put in a plea of “ baby,” but you did not hear thtft that fractious little specimen of mottled humanity has such an extraordinary strength of suction as to have dragged off and swallowed the gutta-percha top to its bottle, and has consequently been uttering cries like a distressed sea-gull ever since. Under these afflicting circumstances, you will, I am sure, permit me to act the part of amanuensis to Julie. I confess I had intended to have gone out and given the gentlemen a treat with my ankles ; but it rains, of course. Really one weuld fancy that Nature was a sleeping partner in an umbrella business down here. I declare the citizens of Dunedin le id an amphibious existence—living both on land and in water. Julie is awfully aghast at a new phase of the Gas Question. She has been reading up the Acts, and finds there i< no provision made for a Municipality supplying gas to private Consumers. I aw sure she is wrong. Do

write and let her know. It is so painful to think that the citizens have been bolstering up a myth. She has clone nothing but wring her hands ever since, except trying to extricate the gutta-percha thing from the penetralia of the baby’s inner conformation. You should know this, Julie takes a deep interest in the Corporation. She believes them to possess a profound knowledge of sartoriology, and to be actuated in all their engineering operations by a desire to promote the public health. Look at the superb system of drainage, and to the “Cosy Dell” road which they cut up to Mr Driver’s house. See the taste they display in laying out the City, preserving a charming rus in vrhe appearance, by leaving many street-lines unformed, and neutralising the effect nf too much bush near Mr Carrick’s, by cutting a road which leads to Ins house, conveniently enough. If ever Julie is married again, it will be to a town councillor, or a City Inspector, I know. There, I can’t write any more. The sun is shining now, and I must haste to make play with my new boots outside. —Yours, affectionately, Claire.