THE LOAFER IN THE STREET.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2146, 11 January 1881, Page 3

THE LOAFER IN THE STREET.

[BBOM THE “PBB88,”] To slightly parody the words of a great philosopher, “ Some men are born tobeer, soma by their own exertions achieve beer, while others have beer thrust upon them.” Of the latter class were tho judges ap-ointed to allot the prizes for the ale exhibits at the Melbourne Exhibition. According to the paragraph quoted by you from the Melbourne “ Herald,” these gentlemen sat in a room where the samples were brought to them in glasses. After rejecting the samples deemed unworthy of a place, those passed mere again gone through (tho italics are mine. Delicious 1) and the process mas again gone through (the italics are again mine. Exquisite!) until the final selection was made. Some idea of tho work (labor of love I should have worded it) may be gathered from the fact that something like 150 (ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY) samples, in many of the classes, had to be adjudicated upon. What a throw in for tho judges! What a time ! Each judge must have fancied himself a beer cask for the time being. Suoh experiences fall to the lot of few. Probably the best telegram ever sent along the wire was the one sent by the lady to her husband in reference to the Christmas decorations he was to purchase in London. “ Unto us a Son is Born, Six feet long by two.” There was a telegram sent here, however, this Christmas which entailed very curious results. A Northern Boniface, with whom, before he deserted the driving box for the bar, I have had many funs, found the day before Christmas day that the attendance at his hotel was so large that unless more supplies were obtained they would dine with the Barmecide before the week was out. He consequently wired down to a Christchurch friend as follows :—“ Send us four hams first train.’’ When the friend received the telegram it read thus : “ Send us four hames, &c.” Knowing the Boniface was in the horse line, tho friend purchased the sets of hames at the saddler’s and duly forwarded them to their destination. When they arrived there were wails at the hostelrie, but they pulled through somehow. There is a lot in the letter E sometimes. A recent article of yours has destroyed an illusion of mine. I refer to your remarks on the visit of Captain Knollys to that nice young man To Whiti. It will be remembered that when the aboriginal Cagliostro had the object of the mission explained to him the only remark he made according to the telegram was—“ The potato is cooked.” I really thought by the spud he meant himself. These dark sayings of the noble savage are confusing. I’m full of poem myself, but it would never strike me to knock a parable out of a potato. I recently observed in the columns of one of your evening contemporaries a local informing its readers that a missing youth, by name Hoskins, had been found. I should like to state, to avoid mistakes, that the youth spoken of is not the divine William of theatrical celebrity. William has taken a most successful benefit, and, in returning thanks for his reception, stated that he was so charmed with their kindness that he intended to end his days amongst them. If William means to keep his word it’s hardly fair on us, because he promised us that privilege in his farewell benefit orations on more than one occasion. However, we shall endeavor to bear up against this blow. As 1 have observed on several former occasions there is something wonderfully ludicrous in the credulity of people who advertise their alliance with the object of their affections or an addition to their family—usually a natural sequence to the foregoing—and request English, Australian, or American journals to “please copy.” Are we infer from this cool request that the English, Australian, or American publio, as the case may be, are throbbing to know whether Flobbs, who once resided in their communities, is married or single, or does Flobbs expect that when the generous manager of the paper who “ copies ” the statement for nothing, announces the fact that Mrs has presented her lord with a brace of fat twins, that his former fellow citizens will hang their banners on the outer walls, and go on the bust over the business ? Does Flobbs think any newspaper cove will shove his old woman or bis babes and sucklings into publio attention for nothing ? It is a sad delusion Flobbs, besides it would lead to getting things mixed. The best proof I can give of this is the following little anecdote from the columns of the London “ Standard”:— “ Watkins. —September 2nd, at Stafford House, Stamford Hill, N., the wife of William Frederick Watkins, of a son. American papers please copy (stated by mistake yesterday a daughter).” Mistakes will occur even, we are told, in the best-regulated families, but when William Frederick’s son comes of an age to read the announcement of bis debut he will naturally feel sort of embarrassed. Our lady domestics still continue to increase in form. A member of this section was recently applying for an appointment, and after asking her supposed employer an infinity of questions, all bearing on her own comfort, she wound up by saying, “By the way, mum, do you sit long over your meals. I can’t abear people as hangs over their food.” — [Tableau J The letter from the Chairman of the Board of Conservators which appeared a few nights since in the columns of your contemporary, the “ Globe,” has caused no small amusement, and, considering the production is from the pen of an ex-chairman of a local School Committee, there was perhaps some cause for merriment. It is not my intention to chaff the ex-chairman on his peculiar orthography, but he must forgive me it I use his communication to point a little moral The letter as it stands is a lot better than a heap of the present chairmen of country committees could write. It is, os sure as you’re alive. I don’t want to go over very old ground again, but in many of our committees —not quite so many as formerly—but still in many, there is not one member of the crowd that has any more idea of what teaching really means than I have of playing the bassoon. I have hoard myself at meetings of more than one committee remarks made that would make anyone nearly die with laughter. But the poor dominie don’t laugh much. Such ill-timed levity could have but one result. But the formerly much - dreaded committees have not tho powers they once had. I don’t think many of the masters are by any means aware of this, but it’s a fact now that no teacher need be snubbed on his stylo of teaching by a chairman who can.barely sign his own name, unless he so chooses. The real power is now with tho Board. Some day, from notes I have carefully retained, I shall write you a paper on the orthographical and other eccontricenties of school committee chairmen. You will find it truthful, original, and really amusing.