SCENE AT A COUNTRY INN IN THE PROVINCE OF NELSON.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume IX, Issue 237, 6 October 1874, Page 2

SCENE AT A COUNTRY INN IN THE PROVINCE OF NELSON.

j [OOMHUHIOATKO.] Having occasion to spand.an evening, at a small oountry hotel in this beautiful province, I overheard a conversation around the bar-room fire, which spoke so highly for the intelligence and intellectual culture of the dwellers in the small hamlet, that I shall hardlybe "accused of any violation of social confidence, if I endeavor to transcribe some small part of it, for the amusement, if not benefit, of Nelson readers. The company consisted of some eight or ten persons. The conversation was not wholly uninteresting; comprising the usual topics of horses, dogs, sheep and their diseases, farm produce and its prices: and, as usual, the ceremony of glasses round was repeated from time to time. " Come, gentlemen," said a fine hae old gentleman, "I think it's my turn now. Let us keep it up in tbe good old style ; as the poet says — Jundevlnum, funde ; tanquam sint fluminis -ands Nee qaaeras unde ; aed funde semper. ab?n_e. "There you be with your Frinch ageiy squire," said a stalwart countryman, whom I took to be a thriving immigrant farmer, and a capital specimen of his class. "I suppose that tbeer's got a English belonging to itj' h*ant it; Wot's it all about squire ? eh ? The Squire — " Ask that young gentleman there; notwithstanding his jumper and short pipe, I think he has not left school long to have forgotten bis Latin. Come, sir, do you think you could give my friend here a translation of that old couplet ?" The youth, a very good iooking gentlemanly lad, spite of his evident desire to make himself appear like an old hand, said modestly — "Can you repeat them for me again, squire ?" The squire did so, slowly and with emphasis, and the lad, taking out his note book and pencil, with a little consideration wrote down and read — Ponr oat tbe wine, The drink divine, In draughts as deep as ocean's brine; Nor aak whence shine Those drops benign, But still pour out the m -scadine. Squire — Very fair, sir, you do . great credit to your school, wherever it was. A quiet young gentleman in black, wbom I believe to be tbe parson, re marked — "The translation is spirited, but I may remark, I am sure without offence, that its fault lies in being more diffuse than the original; and, again, to particularise the wine — muscadine ; I think tbat weakens the effect." Countryman — Well; gie us a touch o't yourself pas'son ; you be a scholard, you be. Best in tlie parish, I reckon. Parson— "Not so much of a scholar as you think, gaffer. I leave it to less sober men to sing the honors of the vine. Though wine is one of tbe best gifts to man as I've read." A weather-beaten Scotchman, evidently of the shepherd class, here took his pipe out of his mouth and said ;— " Askin' yeer pardon, sir, but what for aye " wine" ? Wine's unco gude in its way, but cauld on the- stomach I'm thinking. Are ye just weel advised noo, that the poet was na speaking o' whisky ! " Parson — "I doubt it, Sandy. He says vinum, and vinum means wine." An Irishman, with red hair and high cheek bones — *• Sorrah one of it, ye're honor. Shure, hav'n't I beard Tim Dooly, sne ould schoolmastber that was, in Ould Ireland, discoorse on that vary point. 'Vinum , boys,' he'd say , 'is commonly supposed to be wine, but as the word is always, used wid great honor, and the potes do be praising it beynnt telling, it stands to raysou it manes the beat dhrink in the world; and that dhrink we ail know is whisky. So you may thranslate vinum— whisky? That was TimTDobley's word ; and a great scholar he was— rest his soul." Parson-—" Well, I think Sandy has got his trauslatiqij ready. .Cotnp, Sandy. The Scotchmao, who had been alternately scratching his, head and a small piece of paper with a pencil, to my great surprise read out the following— - / -.; F.h mon— tak' ye'erfu' o' whisky, Enench to mak' the ocean frisky; Dinna speer wba. pays the cost o't, ' Taka richt gude willie-waught o't. Squire— By the Lord Harry, Sandy you'reapoet; that rendering of •« uDde" by «' who pays for it" is your country all over. Sandy — Weel I " conseedef its a rational translation ofthe poet's idea. Paddy—" Translation is it? Shure d'ye call it a thranslation to put a thing from one furrin tongue into another? Put it into English, me dear, and then talk about thranslation Look hire now"— and then this Triah bullock driver, actually without paper, and after a moment's pause, repeated with a glorious brogue: — Fill rae cruishkeen Wiii ould potheen, As aften as flow the tides, 0 ; The divil may care How it comes there, Barrih' there's la.hitt's inside, 0. Talk o' thranslatiog, be gor; there's a touch of ould Tim Dooly's style for ye?" Countryman— "Dani'd if I see much diffejr'nee j 'twixt : Squire's Jingo an •yMrW Your'aL md baudy*s English and Squire's Frinch be all pretty much alike. But Til tell 'c what it all means — Gie I a barrel 6' beer ' i * 9* yoa harbor, jfoon th.'eer, I do&nt care what ' '' ' ' ' ' -' ; ' ; , ; They puts In the rat, If on'ny they mak's 'un good beer."

Theer now, that's what I ca'al good English, and good sense too — dang'd if faint. A small, thin, cadaverous looking man here rose. His nose; by the way,' was « leetle~ rtidj ■■- which probably^ accounts for its use in tinging his pronunciation. He said: — "Gentlemen, It is very distressing to me to listen to a conversation, whose object is to glorify the use of intoxicating liquors. The original lines were fortunately iv a dead language, now unused. It is lamentable that Jt. should have been resuscitated to corrupt the morals of more civilised times. Whilst you; have been distorting the poet's words into so many- shapes, I have humbly endeavored to produce a modest paraphrase, which I shall hope to sing at the. next meeting of my total abstinence brethren. It runs) as follows: — .*, Pour out the tea, The nice Bohea, As harmless as the wa'cry sea; It may not be The real Chin; c; But still we'll driik it. copious'y. This was too much for the squire. He roee from his chair, his face beaming with the .indignant hue of his favori|e beyerjge, so: deeply butf'ageii, and/ roared oat—*" Landlojpd,'|)ring baff-a-dozen of your best old port. The green seal, mind." The wine was brought in n basket. He took one bottle tenderly, and proceeded to uncork it with great care. Then he filled out a glass for eacb, including the teetotaller, for he knew human nature; muttering to ' himself, as he filled "the glasses— "So vinum is whisky and beer, is it ? — that's bad enough — but tea ! Ugh. Heaven above vs — vinum, tea ! After all, I think mine's the best translation — Pour out the wine — the wine out-pour In waves that roll from shore to shore, Nor ask whence comes the generous store, But still the sparkling wine out-pour. That's a little closer than -yours, niy ■foung friencl, If not so sparkling. Bdt, j ah me! when shall we see"a v language * that can express so much in so few words like the Latin? Put those two lines into any two of any modern tongue, my lad, and you'll be. a much better linguist than I am ; and yet they want our! laiß not to learn Latin. Fancy educating a boy on weak tea aod no Latin." So I went to bed, saying to myself, : — Nelson is the place of all the world to live in. lf this be the ordinary style of conversation at a way-side inn, what must not thesocierybelike? But just as I dropped off to deep, I started upland, said: — Of course I forgot, Domett lived here for years. The author of Kunolf and Amohia has impregnated the very climate with his genius— that accounts for it. And I went to sleep. A Traveller. {For repminder of News see fourth page.) [',-_. 1 ___.