ROUND THE CORNERS.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXV, Issue 6118, 11 November 1880, Page 3

ROUND THE CORNERS.

(From the New Zealand Mall,) I know a maid who has a lover, the first hero of her “ Loves young dream/' and con* sequeutly she makes much of him. When the witching twilight hour comes the perfume of flowers in the little front garden is to this fail damsel as ambrosia to the gods ; she cannot exist without it. Under the hawthorn bush, just now budding in spring tide bloom and beauty, she waits, nor waits the maiden long in vain. He too, loves to breathe the balmy ozone, and especially at even-tide and in that especial locality, and the garden ia their trystlog place. It has its inconveniences, that is tc lovers, for passers-by are many, and any pos sible desire for osculatory effusiveness can only be gratified at the risk of surprise. In short, “to cheat surprise and prying eyes,” he has often to “kiss her quick and go," as the song saitb. One night they'd met and talked across the fence, and made “parting such sweet sorrow, that I could part until to-mor-row,” only that they had to hurry up because the bird maternal was calling her young chick to roost. However, they parted, but never a chaste salute won he. Those lips, “ ruddier than the cherry/' had whispered soft nothings, but that, and nothing more. Departing in chagrin, he, a little way onwards, cast a lingering look behind, and saw, or thought he saw, his beloved still lingering by the fence. Hero was opportunity that earnest lover ne’er could miss. Creeping softly in the shadow of the hedge row, he slyly gob within range, clasped the form of the lingering fair one to hia heart, and stole a kiss, when—faugh—baugh—phew—foh—oh—ah caw—law—get out—scat—perlice ! A very torrent of feminine expletives broke the stillness of the air. It was not Elmira that lingered, but the charwoman of the household, who, just leaving for home, had waited at the gate ,to see if “ her old man was a coming to fetch her." My hero did not wait to interview him, nor even to assure the venerable female aoap-sudder that ho really couldn’t help it. She lias survived the shock, and, on telling the tale to the young ladies of the houdehold, has remarked, that “Artec ail it don’t make a bit of difference in the dark to them men folks wot they kisses —an opinion, I need scarcely aay, Elmira does not concur in.

They were boating, calmly floating, on the gentle Tippling bay ; s rJs just filling, comrades willing, song tlu j y sang and roundelay. It was jolly, for the Folly skimmed the water like a swan, none were sick, none sad, nor sorry, though they’d sailed from early dawn. At last said one, 11 I'm getting hungry, and propose that we, nan con., open out our store of dainties and—well, pass the cork-screw, John.” All agreed, for all were ready, and the stores were quick produced, fowl and ham, pale ale and sherry, fruits and jams, to feast induced. But, said one in sudden flurry, “ where’s the bread ? ” aud then in hurry quick he searched the hamper through ; not a crust or crumb or biscuit was there for that hungry crew. Then, said he, “ we’U have to risk it, and take what the gods provide, fowl and jam, and ham and jelly, will eke fill an empty belly ; let us eat, what may betide.” So they fed and munched and muzzled, making most of novel fare, swigged their pale ale and their sherry, like Mark Tapley making merry, each one taking his due share. But anon the waters heaving, and the weather ’gan to moan, gave them warning they had better steer their gallant bark for home. But then came to them disaster, toil and trouble all amain, wind quick shifting to wrong quarter, blowing them to sea aiain. Sick they were full soon, and sorry, and their qualms who shall portray ; from the little trim-built Folly how they yearned to get away ! Sad the tale, and long the telling, how they pulled till midnight hour, keen wind blowing, tempest growing, drenched skin deep with 'passing shower. As the day dawned they came creeping to the wharf like ‘drownded’ rats, sad aud tick, and sore aud soddened, early pleasure all forgotten, each one making vow most solemn he would ne’er to sea again. Where pleasant rivers glide along and youths and maidens congregate for simple joys, ’tis there I like to tune my song and warble Asmodean lays. Nary an unkind word is heard, no one tides to sit on the other all are content with curds aud cream, and currant wine, aud bread and butter. So I thought till one day recently I attended a picnic held in honor of the launch of a boat just newly built upon the banks of that same river. And friends and parents did attend, and.youths and maidens without end, and all was mirth and sweet friendship, and shouts went up when the boat did dip her prow in the sparkling water. Then prompted by naughty vanity one lass with nose tip-tilted did enquire whether the company had ever viewed an Oxford aud Cambridge boat race. Then silence fell upon the throng, eyes were cast down, hushed was the s uig, and the tip-tilted she did triumph, for no one had. “ And can you row?” enquired a dame in doubtful tone. Ob, dear yes, replied the lass, for my father was “ stroke ” oar in Cambridge and Oxford, and then with smothered scorn “ and you can’t you ?” I should thiuk so, rejoined the other, for my dear brother is the possessor of a lovely Rob Roy cauoe. Then the two glared at each other, one doubting the father, the other the brother, and peace took wings and fled. I wonder if it is part of the Government's present economical programme to make the Wellington Justices of the Peace do something fortheir honors just now by daily dispensing justice attbeß.M. Court 1 It certainly is a cause of economy, whether intended or not, and the economy comes through the diminished numbers sent to gaol. It is amusing to go into the court and watch the modus operandi when J.P.’s are holding the scales of justice. To catch the great unpaid a policeman has skirmished around just before, impounded the first two he caught, and brought them triumphantly to the court. Now J.P.’s have not invariably received the highest education, and the snaring policeman has not always the fortune of catching a pair, one of whom should be educated so as to make a fair average of knowledge in the two. One can judge of the mental acquirements of the Justices by the countenances of the lawyers, the reading of the facial expressions of learned counsel, ranging from “doubtful” to “ extreme confidence.” But the lawyers do not always adopt the same tactics to secure the acquittal of their clients, for while the older hands plunge at once into a maze of legal technicalities, and pile them on, until the obfuscated and bewildered J.P.’s are glad, in sheer despair, to discharge the prisoner, the young ones boldly adopt the Yankee axiom, and “sling ’em a little Latin.” The effect of this is instantaneous. The delicate compliment of assuming a profound erudition, and a perfect knowledge of the classics, in men who can just sign their names to cheques, is Irresistible, and the client of the astute com-pliment-payer is to a certainty discharged. fc>o in this way Mr. Read gets fewer boarders at bis extensive establishment, and hence another economy, Simpkins is an unsophisticated sort of a young man, and not much up to the tricks and vanities of the world around him. He was recently led into promising a pair of gloves to the Hebe who obliges customers at his favorite hotel, and after a little trouble he obtained, midst numerous blushes, the confession that six aud a-quarfcer was her size. He straightway hied himself to one of the most fashionable establishments in the city, and there invested in a pair of what he was assured were the best three-buttons la the market. These were duly accepted, with many thanks ; in fact, so delighted was the fair recipient, that she was not satisfied until she had heard where they bad been purchased. Simpkins is not aware, however, that the next morning she went to the shop, and remarked to the saleswoman, “ The stupid fellow who bought these gloves for me made a mistake in their number. Would you mind exchanging them for a full number larger ?” The following “Lxy of the Times,” an old rhyme re-laid, is dedicated to the Wairarapa roadside residents, to whom the railway is not altogether an unmixed blessing :

No more through the smiling valley, Upon the breeze is borne The chinking of the poll-chains bright, Or music of the horn ; No spanking teams of high-bred " tits " Along the roads now fly, As in those glorious olden days— The days that are gone by. No more with banter and with chaff, Our journeys are beguiled ; No more upon Cobb’s rough-made coach We see the luygage piled ; No pretty maids, with merry smile And twinkle of the eye. Twine roses in our button-holes, as They did in’ days gone by. The landlord of the wayside inn Is o longer stands out-door To greet the travellers by coach, As in the days of yore. Each stable yard is dull and still, The old hands almost cry, As memory now takes'them back To the days that are gone by. Ah ? all is past and gone for ayo— The coach and rattling team. And now folks over the country go Behind the hissing steam.' And still wo really do not think, However much wo try, That in the end we shall improve The days that are gone by. Asmodeus.