THE LOAFER IN THE STREET.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2287, 1 August 1881, Page 3

THE LOAFER IN THE STREET.

Good servants are at present very hard to procure, and when you do get one that suits you she, like the oft quoted dear gazelle, “is sure to marry a market gardener.” But a good cook is almost impossible to obtain, and when you do get one, you must accede to everything she requires at the first onset, and more afterwards. A very good story comes to mo in this connection recently. Here it is. A lady in Christchurch had heard of a firstclass cook who was just out of a place, and interviewed her by appointment at her own house. The master of the house was present, but took no part in the conference, but read the paper while the terms ware being settled between hie wife and the artiste of the stew pans. The latter first asked about terms, which were entirely satisfactory. She then came on, naturally enough, to her perquisites, which wore also moat suitable. Then her nights out, which wore most liberal. Everything was going on swimmingly till at last she inquired what family there was. “ Well,” said the lady, “we have eight in all.” “Eight,” exclaimed the cook, “ why, I never could manage to do for that number; it would wear the very life out of me.” Here, with the greatest presence of mind, the husband struck in for the first time, saying, in his most dulcet tones, “ Do you think, Mrs Dripping Pan, you could manage with four children ?” “Oh, yes, sir,” replied the coot, “ I could manage four.” “ Well, consider yourself engaged,” said the husband, “ we’ll drown the four youngest. ” Tableau. In the recent arson case at Ashburton, the evidence of Henry D. Hopkins is very curious, that is, as reported. Here is what ho is made to sav :

“ Henry D. Hopkins passed the shop that was burned two days before the fire. There was very little stock in it.” I see by the above that even the beet of readers require more punctiliousness with their punctuation. I know three readers in this country who, if

they all got on the same paper for a week, would simply annihilate the journal, were it the London “ Times ” itself. Under the new management I hear that the Christchurch Steam Laundry is now giving much satisfaction. They have got a funny man in the show somewhere, or else you have, judging from the following finish to the laundry advertisement :—“ P.S.—Ship agents and vessels are reminded that in the wettest of weather clothes can be returned to Lyttelton in one hour, thoroughly got up." Who on earth is the Hon. Mr Scotland P His speech to the Lords on the Lottery Bill was a most original string of oratory. He thought the Bill did not go far enough. I wonder how much further old Caledonia, “rough and wild,’’ would have shoved the Bill. Racing, the honorable swell said, was a barbarous, cruel sport, and should be put down cltogother. Every one getting up a race, or found at a race meeting, should be soot to hard labor. Why, Caledonia, if yon sent all the sportsmen off to hard labor you would have very few people left at large. I do trust Scotland won’t stand where it did in the Upper House again, because any one reading its remarks would naturally wonder what business such a person had in such a place. I really think we hove as extraordinary people ia the Upper House as there are to be found in the world.

It was a small barber’s shop, sitnated in a retired part of this town, and a friend of mine went in to get his hair cut. There were two or three other customers also waiting their turns. My friend had hardly sat down when a door leading into the house opened, and a bullet headed boy shoved his nob into the room, and said, “ There be a big raat in the trap.” “Fetch him,” said the barber, “ and bring in Sal too.” Sal, who was a most trnculent looking bull slut, appeared in company with the boy carrying the rat trap. “ Jnmp np on the chairs and tables, gents,” said thetonsorial swell, and without any further excuse for making his little room into a rat-pit, he loosed the rat from the trap, who, of course,, was soon killed by the bull, who evidently was quite used to being introduced for similar purposes. The tonsor then resumed hit duties.

You may recollect reading the other day a “ Press ” paragraph in reference to a pair of patrician Hibernians who had looked upon the wine when it was red, and subsequently got fighting. There was—a rare occurrence—no guardian of the law on hand, but a stalwart R.M. was there, and he ran one of the combatants right off the field. Where he eventually left him does not transpire, but I learn that a distinguished educationalist who was present caused much amusement by curvetting around the recalcitrant Hibernian, and saying in a solemn tone, “ Make room ; make room for the man. In the Queen’s name I command you to make room.” And they made it. A friend of mine down South, or np North, it doesn’t much matter which, tells me a story of a party who was applying for an appointment as surveyor to a Road Board, of which my friend was a member, and to whom he wrote pretty much as follows :—“ Dear Soand so, —I’m an applicant for the surveyorship of your Road Board. Ton can propose me, and, no doubt, you can get the chairman to second me. Just buzz around the rest of the members, and tell ’em what talent I possess and what a useful person I should be in local matters generally, and the billet’s mine.” This gentleman deserved the billet, but whether he got it or not deponent knoweth not.

When old Japkins saw the weights for the Hunt Club Steeplechase, he said to a friend, “ Why, Bill, I should only have to pull off two stone and borrow a four-pound saddle to be able to ride myself, and I should dearly like to have a mount.” “ You’d only make a bass of yourself,” said his friend ; “ yon look better on the ground in front of a bar,” and they twain went to one and had 4 drinks.