PEPPER AND SALT.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 2134, 24 January 1880, Page 2

PEPPER AND SALT.

A friend, who is well up in Native affairs, and has the honor to be personally acquainted with Te Whiti, tells me the influence of that old seer among his fellow countrymen, can scarcely be over-estimated, and that so far from being mad, he is unmistakeably in full possession of his wits, which are neither few nor feeble. The Government then, do well to keep a sharp eye

on the old fox, and I think the removal of those prisoners to Dunedin affords the country ample proof of the ability of the Ministry, to conduct Native affairs, at any rate better than they have yet been managed. “Gar patchy Premier ” is no fool.

Tuesday last was a day to be long remembered by the bushranging fraternity, for on that day two misguided wretches paid the last, penalty that human law can exact for crime. The New South Wales community has a good deal to answer for in the matter of highway robbery. - It is notorious that the efforts of the police to capture bushrangers have been rendered futile by the active sympathy of the people with the law-breakers, and that the tone of society has not been favorable to the prevalence of law and order. Let us hope the miserable end of Scott and Bogan may be long remembered in our colonial communities, and remembered in the right way. My dear young fellow, these men were not heroes, and a felon’s death is not a glorious martyrdom. What appears to you a nimbus surrounding the head of the brigand, is but a false fire. Pray do not follow it “ lest it tempt you to the flood,” let penny-a-liners and twaddlewriters try how they will to deify their pels.

The Samlietown Saints mean business, and Utah is the cry ! We mustn’t be too hard on the neophytes. The elders draw very Arcadian pictures of Salt Lake life, and above all, so contrive to permeate their system with the odour of sanctity that persons of narrow understanding and limited information may be forgiven if the skilful and persuasive elders do decoy them over the water. Mrs Noshun’s lord and master drinks, and pretty often puts a head on her with his ’orny ’and when he’s “ a bit fresh,” and Mrs N. listens to the sweet beguiling voice of Elder Spider until she pants for the delights of the bettor land of Utah, and concludes to bid her heathen old man a final “ adoo.” And Miss Sarah Ann Sniggles, coming home from the little congregation to whom the elder has just unfolded some new pictures of the joys of Mount Zion, looks into the glass with bright and sparkling eyes ere she prepares for her little bed, and in fancy sees herself queen of the harem, and that’s better than dress-making or washing up dishes. I should, however, just like to suggest to these ardent admirers of polygamy that the prospect is not a golden one. The United States Government, not over squeamish, does’nt approve of the little game, and won’t stand it very much longer, and sooner or later the saints will be touched up by the long pole of civil law, and who knows but in the melee some of the Sandietonians may not be knocked on the head ? Or, iny fair friends, you may become the brides of the noble Red man andjlive in sylvian retreats in wigwams, for the redskin is the true Mormon you know, and the saints are just now paying him a good deal of court, in return for which he will pay court to the female saints. The following is a Mormon hymn which has been composed expressly for New Zealand :

I’m off to Utah early in the morning, I’m off to Utah before the break of clay; Give my respects to all the Timaru volunteers, I’m off to Utah for ever for to stay. Oh Utah is a lovely place, the Mormon elders there, They never shave nor wash their face, and never comb their hair; Their jaws are full of wrinkles, and their noses red as fire, Are covered with carbuncles, which the Utah girls admire. Chorus, Ac. So now we’ll pack up all our things, to Utah we will sail, We’ll fling aside our wedding rings, and take the ’Frisco mail. Scrub off our freckles, dress our hair, and learn to groan “ Amen! ” And for a “sealing” day prepare, when Brighamland we gain. Chorus, etc. The aristocratic languor of Christchurch is very interesting, but I confess to a partiality for commercial circulation in a city. I daresay some people do virtuously resolve, when they arrive in the City of the Plains, that they will bustle about and be spry. But the sulphuretted hydrogen that floats in the air is too much for them, and they shrivel up, and finally fall asleep in—Sunnyside. The most energetic man I saw in the city the other day was a Baked Potato and Saveloy man. When I had partaken of a rod hot saveloy and a blazing spud, I felt my heart warm to this purveyor and I longed to warn him, to say, “My good man pass on with your furnace to other climes, you little know what the noxious gases that rise from this plague spot will do for you. In a few months you will be a drivelling idiot, that fine tenor of yours will be a caterwauling whine, your eye will get dull and glazed, and the noble work you now do so well will delight you no more, begone then!” But 1 bethought me that perhaps he would’nt understand the language of prophecy and refrained from admonishing him. It is generally understood that the original design of roofing the Cathedral is abandoned. The pious churchpeople think the blue vault of Heaven would be the most appropriate roof, and besides may be had for nothing. It was of course, with extreme reluctance that they came to such a conclusion, because, you see, these earnest people arc so fond of spending their money for Church purposes. But by-and-bye they will learn to submit to the decision.

I observed a parson a sleek and comfortable divine of the old school —descending the steps of the Bank of New Zealand with a heavenly smile on his face and lightness in his step. What a capital parson I could be if I had a good balance at the Bank. I know moth and rust do corrupt earthly treasures but that’s a work of time, and I think I could keep down the moth and rust by frequent attention. I should like to have rushed forward and grasped the worthy ecclesiastic by his fat hand and said “my dear, revered sir, go home and be thankful that the Colorado beetle has’nt eaten your corn at least.” Yes Ido firmly believe that if rich I should gradually refine away to virtuous essence. Will some curmudgeon of an uncle die and give me the chance ?

We have a Bohemia in our colonial cities, as at home. It saddens and gladdens the heart to glance into it occasionally. How many of us there are, respectable married persons who live in an atmosphere of strict propriety—who, in the secret corners of our hard-

ened old hearts, cherish and keep green our love for the days when we were likewise, jolly Bohemians. Although you reprove Tom with much gravity kand pomp, for his “ cigars and cbgnac,” and the''musical or painting Arabs whom' he makes|such friends of—and although, of course, you would not have your wife and daughters draw one breath of Bohemian air, lord love you—what would you not give for a plunge into the olden, revelry for a short houror two? You know the young.fellow,, is but following in your footsteps, andsecretly you envy him, and hope he enjoys himself as you did before hiim’ My dear sir (Mr ■ Respectable Propriety I’ believe you call yoqrself), I don’t want to offend you, but allow me to remark that your condemnation of Bohemia is a trifle too sweeping.’ You '’ may be a very respectable person—the gloss of your coat, the starch of your shirt-front, and the obtrusive stiffness of your collar challenge denial ; but from' the ranks of these on whom you look so severely—from these fellows, seedy, eccentric, careless, of gay heart and light laugh, many of our best and noblest men have sprung.-; and there is no doubt—in my mind at least—when deeds of real charity are added up in the great account, whethe,r Bohemia or*its censor, will be credited with the most. JOHN QUILL.