THE LOAFER IN THE STREET.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 1895, 20 March 1880, Page 3

THE LOAFER IN THE STREET.

I believe it is the cheerful Lovelace or Sir Walter Raleigh who is answerable for the statement that “ Stone walls do not a prison make. Nor iron bars a cage ; Minds innocent and peaceful take Such for an heritage.” It may bo so, but there are people who have resided in such tenements who scarcely hold with the poetic view of the question above. Such a one is at present in a house of restriction not above 1000 miles from Christchurch. For certain deeds committed by him which did not meet with the approval of a judge and jury appointed to adjudicate upon the same, he was requested to retire for a time, and assist in certain public works for the benefit of the common weal. These labours seemed to him a bit irksome. He therefore turned his attention to getting out of some of the work. It should be stated that his name was Terence O'Shaughnessy. At least that was not his real name, but I only wish to indicate that he was distinctly of the Hibernian class. Hearing that gentlemen of the Hebrew persuasion were not required to work on Saturdays, he applied to the landlord of the establishment to be relieved from his labours on that day for the future. On being asked why, he replied—“ If you plaze yer honour I’m a Jew.” The landlord is still thinking over the matter. A friend of mine applied recently for information respecting the duties of the secretary of the Timaru Harbor Board. The following brief account of the duties required is summarised from his information :

“ To attend all the meetings of the Board, keep minutes of business, accounts, Board’s books, conduct correspondence, and act as treasurer. To perform the duties of clerk at landing service, to keep correct tally, and take measurements of all goods landed or shipped. “To keep the books of the Landing Service ; to collect the accounts and disburse the payments. “To collect all shipping dues and port charges, to keep tally and take measurements of all goods landed or shipped at wharf, and to collect all accounts and dues on goods, keeping books showing all the transactions and generally to devote his whole time to the service of the Board'' The italics are those of yours truly. I presume the words underlined are inserted by the funny man—whoever he may be—of the Timaru Harbor Board. It intended seriously it becomes a question to an inquiring mind what time the secretary will have to eat and sleep after performing the duties of his position. Great goodness ! what sor tof a man must they want down there anyhow ? Sunday week last was made the occasion of a harvest thanksgiving in several of the Christchurch churches. While walking down to your establishment with an advertisement a friend of mine overheard the following conversation between two young very small gentlemen, who had evidently just come from Divine service :

“ Ist Boy.—What did you think of the decorations, Sjd ?” “2nd Boy.—Well, not much. Corn ain’t in our line, and there’s no mistake the pears looked hard as old boots, but I’ll tell you, Jim, I was thinking all the service through I should like to shake that big bunch of grapes. It was very nigh as big as the one the two spies were humping home from Canaan in ‘Line upon Line.’ ” Boys lick their lips, light their cigars, and walk on pensively. It is reported from trustworthy sources (says the “ North Otago Times”) that some of the banking institutions of the colony are issuing stringent orders to prohibit their clerks from boarding or sleeping at hotels, and from smoking in the streets. This, if true, is very amusing. Smoking in the street, though I do it myself, is not good manners, but I cannot see what possible effect it can have on a Bank clerk’s duties in the Bank. Of course if managers are supposed to have the charge of the manners of their clerks out of the Bank, it’s all right, but it so other instructions will, if I am any judge of such matters, have to be laid down, and if the tone of Bank clerks does require improving, on which point I’m not prepared to express an opinion, I should say the drawing up of the code will be a labor in which some Bank managers I have met in my travels are scarcely qualified to express opinions with much confidence. As to sleeping at hotels, there are Bank clerks in some New Zealand towns who, from their Bank duties, have so little opportunity for sleep at all, that it seems to me their bosses need not bother themselves where their employes betake themselves for the few short tours they have for slumber. If they are to be condemned to boarding houses surely-some allowance should be made for the hash they will have to dinner. I know a bit about hash myself, a long experience of boarding house hash in various parts of the world has taught the present writer the demoralising effects of that esculent upon the human mind and frame. Some people may like it, but for the banking institutions of a great and free country like this (owing, as it does probably, more money than it will ever pay the interest of) to force their clerks to a continual eghne of Hash is something horrible to contemplate. Let us hope, in the interest of the poor Bank clerk, that the managers will think better of these things. A race of Bank clerks brought up on Hash—who never saw the inside of an hotel, and who never smoked in the street, would be too utterly good to know in the time to come the value of the opportune overdraft, You can bet on this, and I really feel disinterestedly interested in this matter. The telegraphic reports of your correspondents arc to me ever deeply interesting, but, strictly between ourselves, they might improve a bit even on their present fine form. The ’Frisco mail at the time I write these few thrilling paragraphs, is missing, “ She may be on the railway. She may he on the sea,” but the dashing agent who flashes down the fact through the wires that a Maori had seen a sea serpent (too thin this altogether) neglects to inform a business community like ours where the mail is. I assure you this is shocking carelessness. I know at least a score of deserving young men —not long from England—who are at the present moment starving for the drinks they consider necessary for their existence until news of the mail is telegraphed. These things want reorganising. The following law case, for which I personally am indebted to a West Coast contem-

porary, is taken from the records of the New Haven colony in 1669. The statute says : “ Whosoever shall inveigle or draw the affections of any maide or maide-servant, either to himself or others without first gaining the consent of her parents, shall pay to the plantation for the first offence 40s, the second £4, for the third shall be imprisoned or corporeously punished.” Under this law, at a Court held in May, 1669, Jacobeth Murtine and Sarah Tuttle, were prosecuted “ for setting down on a ohestle together, his arms round her waiste, and her arms upon his shoulder or about his neck, and continuing in that sinful posture about half-an-hour, in which time he kyssed her and she kyssed him, or they kyssed one another, as ye witnesses testified.” What a funny world this is. Here are Jacob and Sarah, who “ kyssed one another ” in 1669, coming, through yours truly, into real celebrity. You can get your name up by “ kyssing ” if you only know how. The world would never have known much about the beautiful Francesca di Bimini but for that unfortunate kiss that brought her to such unmitigated grief and really made Leigh Hunt. Then there was the man who kissed his wife in Kensington Gardens and got fined for it, the papers of the period remarking he might as well have hired a music hall for the performance, which would have been cheaper and less public. But what I want to call your attention to is the case above. Ido so in a political sense. Day after day wo are reminded of the destitute state we are in as a country, and the Ministry, I know, must bo at'their wits’ end to know how to meet their engagements. Why don’t they act as above ? Tax the sweet kiss. It is popular, I’m told, and the tax will prove remunerative. Lovers will, I’m sure, judging from the remarks they make on certain occasions, shell out liberally for a kiss, and a first offence at 40s, a second at £4, would, I firmly believe, pull the finances of the colony together before Major Atkinson makes his sad statement in June next. Did you ever go collecting ? If not, don’t ever try. It’s a poor game, believe me. I’ve tried it. I’ve collected for widows, starving people, heathens, orphans, South Sea Missionaries, and gentlemen’s testimonials. It’s a losing biz. If you want my tip, the testimonial ticket is the best, but it wants a knowledge of the subject in more ways than one. A well worked up testimonial, mind you, is worth money to the collector as well as the recipient. I shall have a word or two more to say about this topic in the sweet by and bye, but I can’t help telling you a little remark given to mo in the strictest confidence about one of our publicans, by a collector for the Review expenses. The Boniface refused to part on Moral and Religious Grounds.” I scarcely like quoting the confidence imparted to me, but I warn his brother Licensed Victuallers that such excuses as quoted won’t run through more than once. Morality of that kind and Beer don’t travel in double harness for any length of time with much success. Still, mind you, “moral grounds” is good when you don’t want to part, and if I can impress a useful hint like this on your readers I shall not have written this amusing paragraph in vain.