Sketcher

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 13, 24 June 1893, Page 3

Sketcher

; MAO RIBAND TO BRITAIN. THE EMPIRE CITY.

(By Aurora.)

No. 6. “ From Maoriland to Britain! ” It strikes me very forcibly tliat there is an immense amount of sarcasm mixed up 'with this title. If these boats don t travel a little quicker it will be Maoi iland ” to the end of the chapter. The Queen’s Birthday holiday has never before been so unwelcome as it has been this year ! When I heard that my boat was to bo delayed for two whole days on account of the important 24th, I was almost tempted to ask, “ Why didn’t the Queen arrange to have her birthday at a more convenient season ?” The whole calendar seemed to conspire against my further progression. Time, however, oversame that difficulty, and with a light heart I left Christchurch for Port Lyttelton on the 25th. Here fresh difficulties awaited us. Just when we thought that all luggage and cargo -was aboard, and we were about to “ heave-ho ” for Wellington, a fresh order was given, “ Wait for the Irish canaries!” You 'should have seen the look of astonishment that passed over tiie faces of some of the passengers —in fact, I may say all. ‘ Irish Canaries!—whatever could they be?” Some guessed “prisoners,” though why I don’t know; others chanced “potatoes,” though as far as I am aware none guessed the right thing. Shortly after five o’clock a big truck hove in sig-ht, and from the noise which proceeded from that truck, we were soon enlightened as to the meaning of “ Irish canaries.” A succession of the most outrageous screams that ever proceeded from the lungs of healthy pigs fell upon our ears. And when the unloading commenced these screams increased four-fold. One poor creature fell into the water, but was rescued, and commenced at once to use his lungs as freely as ever. When this business was over, we proceeded to Wellington, half wondering what would be the next obstruction in our way. I was up bright and early so as to be able to catch the first glimpse of the harbour. A genuine Wellington wind was blowing ; it was just about as much as we could do to keep our feet; and how cold it was ! Such cold as seems to pierce through and through one, and making one experience a real longing to get back to the Sunny South! The first glimpse of the harbour is a most disappointing one; it just looks as though someone had gone u p aloft and sprinkled the houses down out of an immense pepper-castor, letting them fall promiscuously —just where they liked. Heavy clouds were hangingover the hills, and our Empire City did not certainly look to advantage. I think it is about one of the most badly-built towns I have ever been in; there is nothing orderly or beautiful about it. I have no wish whatever to run down Wellington, and in reading this sketch you must remember that I looked at it through very cloudy spectacles; on a sunshiny day it may be right enough, but certainly in the wind and rain it is one of the most unpleasant, dirtiest towns I was ever in. There seemed to be mud everywhere —the kind of mud that sticks., I just longed for one of our Invercargill crossings. I wended my way round to our Houses of Parliament, but was not particularly impressed with their outside appearance. They are very inferior-looking buildings, and do not inspire in one that reverence and awe which one feels is due to that which at certain seasons of the year contains those who are set in authority over us ! Having duly inspected these buildings, I took a tram-car and -went from one end of the city to the other. Here, again, our metropolis falls a long way behind our two southern cities. No steam trams or electric cars, but a. facsimile of our Invercargill, conveyance drawn by- two horses, sometimes three. Of course if we mis*

■ oar at three’o’clock there is no.need!. > wait till four in Wellington ; you ,u get one ( very ten minutes. It was ie of the ire A uninteresting drives I. ver took in ny life ; there was absoitely noth A y to see —the outlook . om both wb-dows was most dismal, 'here .'.'were ; few good shops, bub . .■ven in this respect I do not think Wellington cymes up to Christchurch. ).Fter various and many disappoints. r ents I returned to iny ship to find that I was just in time to catch her. Another ten minutes and she would have sailed away to Sydney Harbour less one importfini personage. Onr passengers are jus; about as complicated on board this boat as they were on board the last. We have with us the chief actors in a most pitiful story —ra story all the more sorrowful because it is time, and so full of misery. I will give you the brief outline, and your own imaginations will fill in all the horrible details. ®Trutb is a great deal stranger than fiction,” and when, one is broug’ht into immediate contact with those concerned, one proves to the full the truth of this statement. A wife, deserted by her husband, makes up her miud to seek for him until she finds him. She searches the different towns for weeks, and is about to give up in despair,, when she suddenly c< mes ty on him in one of the hotels in Wellington. The woman, for whom he has left her, is with him, and they have booked yb onr steamer for Sydney. . Just at the last moment the unhappy wife steps on board and expresses her determination to go too. So here they are, the three of them —one of the unbappiest trios it was ever the sorrow of a ship’s crew to travel with. The unhappy wife, with all her misery; the faithless husband, with all bis folly 7"; and the shameless woman with all her sin. And this is modern society ! God pity the three of them! We have also with ns an eminent “corn-doctor,” who promises to remove all excrescences from mankind’s lower extremeties by the faithful application of his far-famed ointment. A trial recommended! Then there is the young man from Sydney, who will pei’sist in talking about “ our ’arbour,” as though there were no other harbours in all the world —Bluff Harbour, for instance ! There are other curiosities, but these must be left over for another date.