SATURDAY GOSSIP.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 2820, 8 April 1882, Page 2

SATURDAY GOSSIP.

Things are a little mixed just now ; it is the sorrowful season of Lent, and yet the Exhibition excitement keeps bubbling up. I am afraid the return to daily toil, which business men will make on Tuesday next will be rather a tardy one.

The traditional hot cross buns have been set forth for sale and eaten as usuaL Peculiar zeal and faith were exhibited yesterday by a vendor of these comestibles, who filled a dirty blanket with buns and hawked them forth just before tea-time.

The Americans certainly leave us far behind in some things. I back a Yankee proprietor to “ get up" anything against anybody under the sun, whether it be a newspaper, a steam engine, a circus, or a swindle. I have before me now a good sized pamphlet issued by a Boston firm of manufacturers of printers’ tools and presses. It is simply a marvellous production, a splendid work, every page being a superb illustration of the printer’s art. John Bull is just a little too wedded to his homely style of doing things, and therefore loses ground in the market, when he puts himself into competition with the sharp, clever Yankee.

With a good harbor I hope wo shall see the growth of good boating. The youth of Timaru have an excellent opportunity for spending their spare time advantageously. Every parent should _ see that his children learn swimming, and no boating club should accept as a member anyone who is unable to move about in the water, with ease and confidence. In inland towns it is urged that young men have no outlet for their energy. Here no such complaint can with justice be made.

I suppose the railway authoritios must be excused, but really it did seem a little rough on the Volunteers to box them up in tracks like sheep. Surely the carriage resources of the Department are not wholly exhausted. We do not forget how the good fellows responded to the call of duty, and we don’t wish them to be treated ignominiously if it can possibly be avoided.

Some illustrious personage of antiquity, we learn on very high authority, grew too big for his boots, or as the historian more graphically describes it, “grew fat and kicked.” This is exactly what the Railway Department used to do in the day, of the late Commissioner. Tt was at that time, undoubtedly, a “ bloated ” institution. I recall one pleasing incident which will illustrate my meaning. A friend of mine who was anxious to obtain employment under the Department (he was at the time in another part of the Government service) wrote an ordinary respectful request to the Supreme Majestical Boss, mentioning that he had had very unusual experience in one particular branch of work, and he understood that proficiency in this was much valued by the Department, and he would therefore be glad to accept a position in which his ability and experience in this matter would be of use to the Service. The private secretary of the Supreme Majestical Boss replied, and I had an opportunity of perusing bis letter. It was to the effect that the Department needed no new employes, bat that if it did the present applicant must distinctly understand that the Supreme Majestical Boss was not accustomed to be dictated to by applicants as to the class of work they were to perform, haw ! haw!; altogether the communication was a unique specimen of bureaucratic arrogance. I have seen a good many departmental communications, British and foreign, but anything like the vulgar insolence of that communication I never saw. It was indeed time the thing “ bust up.”

Messrs Haynes and Archibald (proprietors of the Sydney “ Bulletin”) are spending their Lent in gaol. It does seem a little hard that for an outspoken denunciation of immorality a journalist should be relegated to the abode of felons. The Clontarf gardens were the haunts of the lowest strata of Sydney life (and some of my readers will possibly be able to conjure up a realisation of what that means), and the most revolting orgies were carried on there. The “ Bulletin” dared to say so, and to describe the scenes witnessed, with indignant outspokenness. The result was that the proprietor of Clontarf took action, and recovered one farthing damages. But the costs (£1500) had to be borne by the journal ists. The public raised £BOO, but the balance of £7OO was still standing, and tbe defendants had to go to gaol. Thiswas a great victory for the larrikin, but it was a stain upon the community that will not easily be effaced.

It is a great pity if experience does not teach us at least this lesson—to be forbearing in judment of our neighbor. I think it generally does. One is in a very raw, crude state when one judges harshly and impetuously. First impressions are usually correct ones. What a person appears to us at first sight, he generally proves to be. But our judgment ought to be qualified by the reflection that circumstances have done a good deal to bring about the defects and deformities of character which we observe. Perhaps our circumstances have been happier than our neighbor's, and in consequence we have been enabled to “ shine before men ” much more brightly. Some people’s careers are simply a delightful sail on the top of the tide, without navigation or weather wisdom of their own. Others seem to be “ always bound in shallows and in miseries,” for no apparent reason. Every plant in the world’s great garden tries to grow green, but while a few put forth flower and fruit, many gradually fade, wither and decay. How many .of these withered trees one meets with in life

The departure of the Volunteers for Christchurch by a special train at 1.15 to-day, was witnessed by a crow 1 of citizens. The line of pens was drawn up and the gallant fellows filed into their _ seats, in a sort of irregular regularity, blue coat and scarlet jacket, busby and spiked helmet, intermingled. The helmetted men are an exceedingly formidable and ferocious-looking body. There is a bloodthirsty look about them which the projecting spike on the holmet-top only intensifies. As they marched past one or two little in cidents presented themselves. There was a bugler boy with a long tin of jam under his arm, how he came by it, he only knows; a little while after followed a short fat soldier with a murderous-looking nineteen - barrelled rifle under his right wing,and a concertina under his left. Then followed a lathy looking warrior with a drooping under lip, and an extremely mild and baptized appearance, who carried a “ martial cloak " about his shoulders, a glittering sword (in a case) under his arm, and a parasol in his hand. The unhappy young officer was closely followed by a stout and warlike looking female, and a longnecked duck of a girl who kept her eye on him. The inference was that the

warlike one was the prospective mother-in-law, and the long-necked the fiancee. But to whom the parasol t know not. I judged, however, by the malevolent glances he now and then bestowed on the darned thing, that it belonged to the stout and warlike. Pdck.