A SLIGHT MISTAKE.

Free Lance, Volume I, Issue 7, 18 August 1900, Page 18

A SLIGHT MISTAKE.

" ra^HE early bird catches the worm." I So thought las I got out of bed, and hastened to the House of Parliament. I went through the grand portals of the building, through the inner front door, and past the brass gate ornamented with the rose, shamrock, and thistle until I stood before the semiclothed figures which hold the red, white, and blue electric lights that adorn the entrance of the giant stairway. There came tripping up to me a neat little figure — the neatest, in fact, that ever wore gloves — with such a saucy pretty little face. How can I describe it ? In fact I won't try, so there. "How are you going to vote?" she asked. " I don't know ; I'm a wobbler." " Wobbler," said she, " what's that ?" " Oh ! I sit on a rail." " Well, then, you come for a stroll, and I'll convert you," was the invitation I received. Of course I went, who could resist? I did not know much about politics — in fact, I knew nothing, but she was such a pretty girl that I pretended I did, and so she launched deeply into politics, and commenced by enquiring — " May I ask why "you don't vote for us?" I didn't know what the voting was about, but as I had got into deep water I had to say something, so I ventured — " I don't care much about your politics ?" This at once drew her out. Her face lit up with enthusiasm, she launched into a sea of facts, figures, and anecdotes about prohibition, and the evil effects of alcohol. We had a charming time on the lawn tennis ground (where I heard of the evils of drink), up Hill-street (where I was told the benefits of prohibition), round Tinakori road, and back to the Parliament Buildings again (where I got all the statistical information regarding both sides of the question). " You'll vote for us now when the Bill comes up in the House ?" said my fair friend. " What have I got to do with it ?" I asked. " You're a member of Parliament, are you not ?" she said. " No ; I am only up here looking for work. I want to get on to the co-opera-tive works," I stammered. " What I" she exclaimed, as she grasped that brass gate of rose, shamrock, and thistle, and stared me in the face with an angry gleam in her eyes ; " then you're a humbug and a fraud, and I've wasted my time on an ordinary common man." I know now the delights of being an M.H.8., and why there is such a fascination in being in the House. I think I'll stand for Parliament myself after this. J.R.