PADDY MURPHY'S SPECIAL IPISTOL.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XVI, Issue 20, 24 January 1881, Page 4

PADDY MURPHY'S SPECIAL IPISTOL.

[Saturday Advertiser. J Lambtoist Kat, Welltnoton, January 10, 3881. I'm tould there's been grate ruckshions intirely among yer readfaers foekays I haven't rote to ye for some time, so I haven't. The fact of the matfcher is, I've been coaching Onld Tom (I don't mane the cravthur called London Old Tom, but me frind Mi&ther Dick) on political affairs previous to hif departchure as plinnypotinshirry to the Sydney Conference, and this has occupied me spare time. Tell see by tiligram that Misther Bryce has resigned, an' Johnny Hall has axed me to take up the portfoley of Native Ministher. But, begorrfl, I'm sick an' tired o' me prisint rollaiges, an' I'll not take the office, I'll laive Parliminfc first, so I will. There's been grate goin's on. over the manin' of Tay Wbitty's remark, " The potaty is cooked," but the translashuns are all "wrong together, an' I'm the only pakeyha in the colony that can give the rail maioin'. Ay coorse yer aware that Tay Whitty has been a constant readier o' the Saturday Advertiser for years, an' it was through your columns that he first made the acquaintance o' yer humble servint. The grate Profit soon began to rayiliee the fact that I'm the only man in New Zealand that can feeep the Maoriß in ordher, an' be the hokey, he was afeard ay' his life o' me, so he was. Well, not seeing me pomes or ipistols in yer pages for some time, Be began to think I must have kicked the bucket or gone to San Francisco, and so he thought he could play the very dickens wid the Govermint bekays I was away. That was why he ixclaimed in a jewbilant voice to the Governor's Aid -to - Kong (Frinch), "The Potaty is cooked," mainin', ay' coorse, that the Murphy (that's me) is cooked. But, be me consbinse, I'll soon let the sly old varmint know that I'm not cooked, bo I'm not. Be Sir Arthur's special requist, I'ye rote a short liarical pome on the meetin' o' Captain Knollys an' Tay Whitty, an' it runs as follows : — THE POTATY IS COOKED. The Profit was saited alone in his wharry, Wiien bould Captain Knollys came up to the door ; The Aid-to-Kong fcowin' exclaimed ; — " Faix, I'm sarry. To throuble ye darlint', but railly I'm sure Tell pardon the freedom I take, for me mission Is paiceful an' good, an' yer frinship I've booked, Me masther Sir Arthur's a grate polytician — " Tay Whitty then Bed— "The potaty is cook'd." " Bagorra, me boy, sure I don't undherstand ye, Yer language is shtrange, an' its manin' obscure, Sir Arthur has sint me to ax and command ye To meet him. " The Profit danced round on £he floor ;

The Captain bewildhercd, was filled wid commotion, Tay "Wliitty so funny an' comical look'd 15 e-dad. blur-an-ages, it seemed a strange notion, Again came the words—" The potaty is cook'cl." " Grate Profit," again ppokothc Captain, "this letther Was written be Johnny, the mighty Primecar, lie heard you were sick, an' he hopes that yer bctther, I've brought ye a dhrop o' the craythur, me dear. The light's on the mountain, the livers are plucky — " Tay "Whitty's ply wink said—-" I'm not to be hookU" His look seemed to say—" Now, clear if yer lucky." His tongue only said — " The potaty is cook'd." — Paddy Murphy.