THE LOAFER IN THE STREET.

Globe, Volume I, Issue 61, 10 August 1874, Page 2

THE LOAFER IN THE STREET.

The proceedings in the Wellington Parliament house have a lot of interest for yours truly. I read Mr Richardson’s public works statement with a deal of pleasure. Our public works are indeed going ahead, and I quite agree with the P.W. Minister when he says “ that the colony has undertaken a gigantic work that it is incumbent on the Assembly to carry it out, and, Sir, I have no fear as to the result.” More have I. We are spending lots of money. I believe, proportionately, we are spending more than any other country on the face of the globe. We are spending this to provide for posterity. It may be that posterity may have to borrow lots more money to undevelop our developing, but I have not the slightest fear as to the result. If we were to go on borrowing millions more I should’nt tremble. Not a trera. I hav’nt got any money of my own, but I like spending other peoples. Thus it is that I sympathise with our present style. So long as we can pursue our progressive policy on borrowed capital, so long shall I preserve my stake in this country. The Licensing Act seems to have drawn forth some emotions from the members. I may be prejudiced, but I don’t think much of the present Act, neither do I think much of Mr Fox’s improvements. His paternal care of barmaids is nice, but, as has been already said, it shuts ort women from the business altogether. I solemnly declare if I were going round with the census to-morrow, I couldn’t find out more than twenty fair sexes over thirty in all Christchurch. The fair sex draws the line at thirty, and remains there for twenty or twenty-five years, according to circumstances. This description of protection is all smoke; but why did not Mr Fox throw his mgis over the poor barmen too ? Why not prohibit any man from engineering a beer tap until he was sixty, and give a few poor old orphans a chance ? The deceased wife’s sister has cropped up again, poor dear, smothered in Scriptural and other arguments as usual. I’m getting that tired of this sweet lady, that if she were to decease as well as the wife I should not need to make any lengthened series of violent efforts to bear up against it. I have heard from experienced Benedicts, that one turn at matrimony is enough joy for most people, but to any one wishing to try again it seems hard that Leah should object to be succeeded by Rachel. The main argument in favor of it, and strange to say I never heard it adduced yet, is that a man would still retain his own Mother-in-Law, and what a blissful treat that would be. The hon member who said that he had “ promised his dear wife to vote against the measure, as she had a handsome sister of whom she was jealous” commands my respect and compassion. The

Domain Bill, strange to say, has not excited hon members any more than an earthquake would—perhaps not so much. When I think that a body of respectable men can sen a portion of our Domain passing away from us, and can sit down and talk over it with no more emotion than they would display over any matter affecting the vital interests of the colony, and then go and vote for the Bill, I shudder; but I am glad to see the Lords have thrown it out. One hon member declares he would not live near the Domain lest his four handsome daughters should be annoyed by missives from the very uncouth young men who would inhabit the College. I don’t own any handsome daughters, and cannot speak on this side of the question, but the hon member is rough on the collegians when he calls them uncouth. I can’t see the fun of jumping the Domain, but there’s no use in making the gentle College boys out Goths when they aint. Ido like the College boys. Two of them put eight snowballs on to my head the other day in about half a minute; but th'S is foreign to politics. Talking of the Domain, I must say the notice board at the main entrance gate rather puzzles me. One clause is to the effect that no meeting of any kind will be allowed in the gardens without the special sanction of the Board. This is a dubious sort of notice. The following is a case at point:—l saw a meeting there one recent afternoon between a nice-looking nursemaid, a perambulator, two babies, and another fellow. The nursemaid and the other fellow took the leading part in the proceedings. They smiled, and eke they kissed. They kissed mostly. Both of them seemed to enjoy it. I feel sure of this. The babies recorded a silent vote. Is this a sort of meeting which requires the permission of the Board ? Another clause on the notice board informs you that no vagrants or persons not decently dressed will be allowed in the Domain; What is a vagrant? And is a person with a red cloak, a blue trimmed hat, with two birds on it, a blue dress with trimming of all known colors, boots of No 8 calibre, and a scarlet chignon, decently dressed ? I want to know. I went to an entertainment the other night. It was not a success. I was standing near the door, when a gentle lady got up and favored the audience with “I cannot sing the old songs,” I don’t know what she might have done with the new ones, but she was quite correct abou ttheol d, because you see she couldn't sing at all. lobserved tbusly to my neighbor. Subsequently, when we got outside, his fist, associated* with a large rinsr. went into my eye. The lady who couldn’t sing the old songs was his aunt. Since then, when I try to read small print with the eye alluded to above, I have found it embarrassing. If you should require a musical critic, don’t ask for me. I can’t bear being brought in contact with men who dislike their aunt’s singing criticised, I went to the Theatre another night. I enjoyed it to a very great extent, but in all happiness here below we must expect alloy. The alloy was on this occasion as follows. Two young ladies sat in front of me. They had been in early youth I expect taught to look upon onions as healthy. I can stand peppermint, and, in the pit, my soul don’t revolt against hot saveloy ; but onions in the dress circle—as Johnny Trotter says—“ Oh carry me out in a wheelbarrow.” These young ladies had a lot of hair, and combs and pomatum on, and, owing to the beautiful manner in which they were distributed, I had to keep working my head right and left to g“t a view of the performance. If this sort of thing keeps on increasing (the head pieces I mean) instead of the familiar cry of “ Hats off in front,” it will be “ Hair off in front.” Its getting too sizeable this coiffure question, and a manufacturer assures me that when it goes out mattresses will be awful cheap. As to the show itself everyone has seen it, but I understand the trustees of the museum are in treaty with Mr Vose for Johnny Trotter. The De Castro family—well in your education leaders why not suggestthe advisability of bringing up some of our youth as trapezists. It is certainly a branch of physical science—a science by the way apparently more thought of at present than other subject. Besides — but the subject speaks for itself—can’t you see it does, and so does the Show. I hope Mr Smith will call again. The Country Parson has a pleasant article on “ The Art of Putting Things.” A circumstance which happened recently in our board-ing-house reminded me of this article. A young artisan, of poor but honest parents, who chums with me, came into ray room last Saturday evening and told me that as the laws of the land did not allow of our getting drinks on Sunday, he had brought m two bottles of beer for our recreation the next day. I beamed a glowing smile fair on to him and said he was a gay and thoughtful lamb. After this I slept. Next day, when we came to look, the bottles were empty. Old Slopwisky (he’s a Polish count he is, but not of much account at that), who boards at our shop, said he drank both bottles on Saturday night at a quarter to twelve. He said he had just signed the Sunday Observance League, and no one should go drinking in his company on a Sunday, if he could help it. It was well put by Slopwisky, but we couldn’t appreciate his style of Observing. There are a lot of men with immense powers of Observation in his way. I could Observe myself like that. There are two things I have lately seen in the papers that I cannot take in to my liking. These things have cost me several sleepless nights. lam right down wracked with uncertainty, I proceed to sling you the conundrums, and you think over them, and tell us about them, and if you can’t, share my burden. The first relates to an advertisement. It is as thus :—“ Wanted a good man for a round.” Does this mean a round of beef f I should have applied for the billet myself, only when I look around at luncheon I see so many better men than myself that I should have no show. I can’t see any necessity for advertising such a thing as this, I could supply dozens of good men at a round at a very low figure. But I may be wrong you see about the meaning, and this doubt is what’s tearing away my vital energies. The other conundrum is from a correspondent’s letter to your contemporary. He asks—“ After all, Sir, which is best? To be subject to vulgar opprobrium, or favored with sympathy from a general public ?” Look here, what is “ vulgar opprobrium ?” Is it a catching disease like the “heaves,” or is it something to drink? “ Sympathy from a general public” is, or ought to be good. The only time I ever saw it exhibited to any extent was when my cousin was going to be hung at the Horsemonger Lane Gaol. There was a most satisfactory attendance, and lots of sympathy from the crowd with each other, owing to the fact of my cousin being reprieved at the last minute. I’ve never 'seen any public sympathy since.