LOAFER IN THE STREET.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 157, 4 December 1874, Page 3

LOAFER IN THE STREET.

♦ (From the Press.')

Once upon a, time there was a Governor in New Zealand who united several ollices in hir. own person. Besides being Governor, he. was commander of Her Majesty’s forces and Superintendent of a province. In course of affairs he used to write to himself as Governor, open it, and consider it to himself as Superintendent. As commander in-chief he also carried on a voluminous correspondence with himself as Governor. Thus public business prospered, and there was not much delay. Things are quite different now. Wo seem to be adoplingcircumlocutionary ideas. I gather this from the statement of Councillor Bishop at the last meeting of the Council. It appears ihc Council had received a letter from the Government in reference to some drain, and they waited upon Mr Jollie, who had signed the letter. That gentleman referred them to Mr Maude. Mr Maude referred them to Mr Warner, the rail way engineer, who referred them to Mr Donkin in his department, who was to consult with the City Purveyor. When this conference is over the result will come hack by the same road on which the works committee went to arrive at it, and I think it’s just about 5 to 1 against that drain being done for say a week. We are fond of drinking. In this respect few countries are ahead of ns. We also like eating. I never knew a Britisher that didn’t. Some of us, like Sir Galahad, don’t care about the kiss of love, or squeezing maidens’ hands, others make a good thing out of resigning the flowing howl. We differ about religion and politics; we disagree about all kinds of things, hut we do agree in liking a square meal, and the sqnarer it is the better we like it. It is the only institution I never heard a man object to on principle. If dear Skinbone. whoso only good quality is having a good balance at the bank, is leaving the country, how do we show our appreciation of his many striking virtues? Why, by giving him and ourselves a dinner, and gorging like anacondas. "Whatever is is right, but there is no occasion to make the repast more dreary than is necessary. Why, oh, why! should it be considered requisite to drag out the weary hours by toasting every one and every body, from Queen Victoria down to our “ noble selves.’’ Is there a more melancholy instance of history repeating itself than the way in which toasts arc proposed and replied to? Is there a sadder sight than a man on his legs stuttering and stammering in the attempt to say “ what a’ owt to a’ said,” which, by the way very few ever do. The pi’y one naturally bestows in such cases interferes with digestion; and on this ground alone after-dinner eloquence might he muchly condensed. I should say it would increase the longevity of this race were it condensed about 99 per cent. Talking of repasts, there is a well-known luncheon room in this town where Chutnee used to be provided. This is no longer the case. A young gentleman went to this establishment regularly for a week to get lunch. During this week six bottles of Chutnee disappeared The landlord got anxious about it, and at last spotted his man, who on the seventh day had his lunch and one bottle of Chutnee. “My friend,” said the landlord, “ I scarcely think I can afford to find you in a bottle of condiment which costs six shillings and a square meal and a glass or beer for eighteen pence. It’s being too libera!, besides your health would suffer sooner or later.” And now there’s no Chutnee on the table in that establishment.

I’m frequently (excuse me) licked to know the meaning of advertisements. Now what does this, taken from a West Coast paper, mean? “For sale, by tender, one-fifth shore in Collan Go’s Water-race. The race carries 4 Government Heads.” Now, I know what a water-race means ; but what is the connection between a water-race and Government Heads ? What would they cost ? What would a man do with 4 if he had them ? I have thought deeply over this matter ; and assuming that the four heads were to be selected by me, the only conclusion I can arrive at is that I should punch them, or sell them to some friend of mine who would thoroughly appreciate the job. The season is now close at hand, when the columns of your valuable journal will be filled with those thrilling accounts of school examinations; when the eyes of anxious parents will be gladdened with the sight of dear Tommy’s name appearing in the public prints, as having taken a prize for geography, or Maria Jane as beh>g the champion stockdarnist of her seminary. This reminds me of a paragraph which recently appeared in your columns It refers to a recent meeting of the East Christchurch school committee, and is to this effect : ‘lt was resolved that Mr Mitchell be requested to endeavor to arrange for the use of the building known as Bt Andrew’s Old Girls School.” I shall look forward to the report of the Old Girls School with much expectation. Who are these ancient ladies 1 What do they learn ? Who teaches them, or who learns from them ? From the name of the school I should say the old ladies were of the Caledonian profession. 1 should like to see the curriculum of this seminary ; and, if permissible, I should like to study awhile under their auspices. I’m always being imposed upon at present, but I believe a course of study in the Old Girls’ School would enable me to take my own part better. I feel that I should learn much, and I might subsequently start a school myself for Old Hoys. There arc plenty knocking about who are not too old to learn, and 1 know enough about them to be able to suggest to them profitably—l may say very profitably—the subjects in which they are most susceptible of improvement. From time to time I have noted Mr Holloway’s triumphal progress through this great country, and I have on such occasions invariably wished that 1 was a working man’s representative. Welcomed by Provincial authorities—embraced by Superintendents—and everywhere and by all made much of, he will probably carry away with him very pleasing recollections of his New Zealand trip. His last experience was amongst the Maorics at the Bay of Plenty, where, in company with the Buperindent of Auckland, he interviewed a number of the intelligent Aborigines. The Maories appear to have taken Mr Holloway for a very heavy swell and poured much welcome and many compliments over him. One great chief named Harini spoke as follows, “ Oh father, salutations to you ; I am badly in want of a cart ; my word is sufficient,” Mrs Harini also spoke to the same effect. She didn’t expect to live long, and on these grounds wanted a cart badly. This meeting will give Mr Holloway a very fair idea of a Maori korero. Whenever they muster up and talk eloquence, they want something. I’ve always said they wore very like us in many respects,

1 have been twice to Miss Arabella Goddard’s concerts. 1 shall go again if I can get some one to pay for me. I do enjoy music when other people pay for me. It soot lies me much. I was about to revi ,w the concerts, hut your readers will find about it in some other pari of the paper, besides I’m not quite clear what an andante is, but. its played on the violin. So is a Tema. As to Miss Goddard’s [flaying it pleases a Christchurch audience. It does I assure you. aud I couldn’t say more if I wrote for a year, but I’m sorry Miss Goddard played “11 Bacio,” because I understand its a piece many young ladies play hero. Now, this is what will happen, all these young Indies will go home and tear II Bacio up, and jump round in despair, and all the copies of that •p.nkling piece yet unsold at the musicsellers will remain unsold. There’s a kind-hearted old gentleman lives well I forget where—hut not in Christchurch anyhow. He lends money. He can’t help it, he says. Ho likes it. He makes a rule never to ask more than forty per cent, and that only to personal friends. He makes money out of his business as a rule. He has a loss nowand again. I’m going to tell you of one of them. He was sitting in his office when an old dried-up man about seventyfive years of age came in and said he had just got £SOO left him and, being a childless orphan, ho said he would like to invest it in an annuity, tls said be didn’t expect he could last much.longer, and had lost interest in things generally. The lender of money said he thought he, might give him a hundred a year for his £SOO, aud they closed the bargain. Now most people would have played fair, and died after a couple of years’ comfort, hut this dear old orphan did otherwise. It is now fifteen years since he bought his annuity, and he still lives. Year after year does this meek, childless old man walk into the office of the money lender, and draw his cheque, and then that money-lender prances round the room, and blesses the man who invented annuities, and throws ledgers about, and makes it lively for his clerk, and the meek old lonely orphan goes away down street, and feels every year more and more (hat he has not lived in vain.