REALLY TOO BAD.

Globe, Volume V, Issue 569, 15 April 1876, Page 2

REALLY TOO BAD.

There is a gentleman in this town connected with the Trigonometrical office, who daily takes his bath beneath the willows of the green in that portion of the river set aside for the purpose. Now this gentleman, whom for convenience we will call Burns—although be it known, that is not his name—is one of the members of a musical society in this town. He has been told that nothing is better for the voice, when entering the water, than to sing out at the top of his lungs. Oons< quently every morning ou takiug his plunge and rising to the surface, lie lots a roar out of him like that of a young bull in deadly pain. lodeed he may be heard almost a mile off on a calm still morning. Now with Mr Burns is always to be found his big chum and companion, the hirsute croquet of the Theodolite office, who likewise disports his manly form on the river's bank. For the last few mornings, whether in consequence of the beauty of the weather or the holiday time, we know not, Burns has been in unusually good spirits, and as a natural consequence his vocal performances in the water have bean more marvellous—and more vociferous than ever. And by the same ioken—as a son of the Grcan Isle would say—on each of these mornings, a new comer in Christchurch might have been seen (vide James's novels) approaching the river bank cautiously, halting every now and then, and apparently listening with fear and trepidation at the unearthly yells which broke upon his ear. Fond of his bath, yet fearful to approach what he considered to be a maniac, he stood irresolute for a moment, and then turned tail and went back without his swim. This morning at an early hour things were brought to a climax. The new comer had advanced along tha path, and was juit

• leu g ill.- Hiving alongside the river bank—congratulating himself, that being early, the noisy man had not arrived ; when he was confronted by Burns, who having finished his swim, was making an early return to tb» home of his fathers—and mothers—leading his friend Cioquet, of the theodolite department, calmly floating down the stream on the broad of his back, but quiet as a mouse. •« Good morning," said the new chum. " Good morning," replied Burns, now all smiles and urbanity—"a pleasant morning." "Very," rejoined the new chum, and added—something quieter than usual too—" I think I'll go down for a swim, as the coast seems to be clear to-day.' " There you are mistaken," said Burns, " the fellow in the water is as mad as a hatter, and I'd advise you not to go near him." " You don't mean to say," rejoined the new chum, " that he's a lunatic." " I tell yon he is as mad as a hatter," replied Burns impatiently. "He is a patient in the Sunnyside, but is allowed out every morning for a swim." "What! without his keeper" and sew chum stood aghast. " No, not without his keeper; but while he's in the liver, his keeper is half a mile away gathering mushrooms. Gave him a wide beith ; he's a dangerous character. Good morning. So saying, the Genial Burns stalked off smiling in his sleeve at the character he had given his friend the vocalist and lady killer. New Chum looked after him for a moment, and had .'made two steps to follow, determined not to bathe that morning, when there ascended a cry from the river as though from one in mortal agony. Yell succeeding yell with awful speed. New Chum saw an apparition just landing on the banks. The apparation—our friend of the Theodolite Department—approached to enquire the time, when New Chum, with a frightened scare, set off at a gallop, and Croquet, thinking his pockets had been rifled, followed at a terrible pace, yelling out at the top of his voice. Faster flew the pursuer, and faster the pursued ; and when last saen in the centre of the park, they were going like the wind, and you could not see their heels for smoke. A member of the Fourth estate, a noted bather and early riser, who iB almost as noisy as Croquet, has since interviewed the new chum, who has informed him that if he is aware of it he will no more seek the banks of the Avon for bathing purposes. Croquet returned to the river a sadder, a wiser, and decidedly a colder man. He vows he owes that Burns one, and will be even with him some day.