THE WEEK.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XI, Issue 238, 4 November 1876, Page 2

THE WEEK.

A most important date in the history of New Zealand wag Wednesday, the first of November, 1876. On that day Oysters and Provincial institutions went out together, the former only for a time, during which an opportunity i 3 to be allowed them of increasiugand multiplying at their leisure; the latter forever. We have bid them a long, last farewell. The question now is, what are we going to do without them? The coincidence of Oysters and Provincialism— the initial letters 0 and P are suggestive of oysters and porter— walking off together has suggested to my mind a reflection, from which, being of a somewhat sanguine temperament, I am disposed to extract comfort. I remember the first Ist of November after the passing of the Act which prevented us from eating our Waiinea oysters for five months. We were in great distress. We had been used to oysters; we did not at all like being deprived of our nightly dozen, and, in point of fact, we made up our minds that thenceforth our lives would be a burden to us, if, indeed, we did not sink under the berearement. But as it turned out our calculations were all wrong; our fears proved utterly groundless, and when the season came round once more we really were quite indifferent about it, and if we had been compelled to do without oysters for another month or two, or even altogether, our grief would not have been intolerable. Now, may not it prove just the same with regard to Provincialism. No doubt we shall miss it at first, and an occasional sigh of regret at its loss will probably be heard now and then, but after a while we shall long for it to come back with just about as much eagerness as we look for the return of All Tools Day when oysters come in again. At present we are jogging along just as comfortably as though we had a Superintendent and Executive; the sun gets up in the morning and retires at night with the same punctuality that marked its movements before the Abolition Act came into force, and in no way whatever has Nature taken notice of the change beyond dropping a few big tears on Tuesday night; in fact, nobody seems to note the alteration. That is, in Nelson. Down South we hear of theirjcelebrating the death of the late form of government by shooting rabbits during the day, and letting off squibs and crackers at night, but this was a childish performance compared with what occurred in Blenheim. It was with an uncomfortable shudder that I read of the destruction of the Provincial Government buildings there by a fire that must have owed its origin to supernatural causes. So long as Provincialism existed we never heard of anything irregular or unaccountable taking place in those buildings, bat on the night of that very day on which it expired what happens? Let the telegram speak for itself :— " Several persons saw the centre of the Government Buildings in a blaze." Now fires don't break out in the centres of houses spontaneously, and Blenheim is by far too moral and well conducted a little place to allow of the idea of incendiarism being entertained for a moment. It is quite clear then that the " blaze " was to be attributed to supernatural interference. What a text for Sir George Grey to enlarge upon! The stars in their courses fighting against the handing over of Provincial property to the General Government, and recording in letters of fire their disapprobation of abolition. I almost wish that Parliament had not been over, for I am sure that Sir George, Messrs Roes, Stout, Sheehan, and others would hare talked another number of Hansard on this subject, and there are so few of these blue-colored volumes this j T ear that we could do with one or two more. Marlborough has certainly taken the shine out of the other provinces on this occasion. Have any of you. heard the ghost story that has gained currency during the last two days? It is said that the Provincial Government buildings, or rather the corridors and grounds in front, are haunted. Moonlight though the nights are, I cannot summon up sufficient courage to ascertain for myself the truth or otherwise of the rumor, for I confess to being horribly frightened of ghosts, and would not care to meet one accidentally, much less would Igo out of my way to see one. I muse therefore tell the story as toid to me My informant said that on Wednesday night after returning from the Show and ball at Richmond— he is not a Good Templar— he had occasion to pass through the Govern- i ment grounds, and, when walking through ' one of the corridors, he suddenly became aware that he was not alone, but that in company with him was what appeared to be a tall man dressed in dark clothes and wearing a bell-topper hat. Although he seemed to have heavy boots on, not a sound was to be heard on the stone floor of the corridor (l Then," continued my informant, " a feeling of awe came over me, such as I had never before experienced, as, the conyictign

forced itself upon my mind that I was in the presence of the spirit of oha whose substantial casing had passed away. He or it — I hardly know which is the proper pronoun to vie— cast an eagle glance at me, and then glided on into the moonlight. Terriflad though I was, I felt irresistibly drawn towards the apparition, whose every movement I watched with an interest and earnestness for which I can scarcely account. When a few feet away from the front of the building he turned towards me, and on hi» face I could detect an expression of intense melancholy, almost amounting to despair. Slowly he lifted his hat, and, standing bare-headed in the flood of moonlight, he raised his eyes to the upper storey of the western wing, and I heard these words flow from his mouth, though his lips did not appear to move in. giving utterance to them: — ' Farewell, ye noble towers; ye rottan floors! Farewell, the achemings, and the Council fights That made life happy I 0, farewell! Farewell, my chestnut steed, my Karamean bull; Those spirit-stirring rides; the monthly screw; The sense of power; and the quality, The pride, the circumstance of being somebody! And you, my Pitt, my Rout, companions in misfortune, 0, bless you both! My lovely lads, Farewell! O'Conor's occupation's gone!' Slowly, gradually, and almoat imperceptibly the apparition faded away aud became completely lost to my sight, and I was left alone, wondering what it was that I had seen." F.