A MAKAREWA MISSILE.

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 17, 22 July 1893, Page 7

A MAKAREWA MISSILE.

TO THE EDITOR. Sir, —There is a story about a certain wit, who, on being asked what he thought was the height of a monument pointed to, replied that he thought it the height of (adjective) nonsense. That estimate of altitude at once describes the height that “ Vox ” climbed to in order to indite his notes and the notes themselves, and behold him standing there note-book and pencil in band, the husband and the antithesis l of Minerva on the opposite block. When I survey the wondrous pile whence generous “Vox” poured out his bile on my thrice happy poll, running down to my feet a greasy T mess, I’m lost in wonder and amaze at such a craze. There was the same sort of wit in “ Vox's ” skull when he chose that battlement whence to make his attack on me, or there was in Burns’ “ Holy Will ” when he pilfered the alms of the poor. That conning tower was built with material furnished by my own handiwork, and in seizing upon it, it was like seizing an enemy’s fort and turning his guns upon him. “Vox” knew that he would be perfectly safe on that tower j—that not a brick would sneeze nor a timber shiver under the discharge of his artillery, “Vox” is a good bit mixed in places. He says that he for some time has been taking notes, but the delay in publishing these was due to the lack of a sufficiently prominent coign of vantage from which to observe and duly note. This is true to the name of the notes —random, but the muddle of it is in pretending to want a tower from which to scan the doings of the sage of Makarewa, when he is in evidence several times a week on “Vox’s” breakfast table in the papers. This is rank hypocrisy. If he had ever made a living by making bricks he would never have got into such a bungling and hypocritical way' of writing as that. He next proceeds to laud me to the same height in the ethereal blue as the leader of the rebel host in heaven fell from, of whom it is said—“ Him the eternal powers hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal heights above.” Nine times the, space which measures day and night to man was he in falling. That beats the hangman’s drop by a long chalk. “ Vox ” say's the subjects that I deal with are meritorious and as multitudinous as the sands on the seashore. Then he gets mixed again. He says of me “ his critics seem to envy him. They are disposed to question his abilities, and are slow to give him credit for his boundless knowledge and wisdom.” Envy is only provoked by what to the envious seems real. That which is only of questionable reality excites no envy. I am regarded as playing a theatrical part, but whether this refers to my brick-making or to the warming blasts which I thunder forth, or to both, is not stated. If to the brickmaking, those who regard it as a theatrical performance would view it as belonging to the class of theatricals called tragedies if they had to take a part in it. As for the writings, their author stands in the position of a belt wearer, who must aecept a challenge from anyone in his own line. “ 'Tis distance, however, lends enchantment to the view, and were our oracle (myself) to travel abroad, he would receive the applause to which his genius entitles him.” The meaning of this ii that my admirers at a distance would, on a nearer acquaintance, find that I was like Philip, only of earthly mould and the earth brick clay. I shall exhibit the same good sense in this matter as I do in not writing shilling shockers or treatises on ethics. I shall not travel out of my present orbit. The honours which are denied me in life are to be showered upon my mortal coil after I have shuffled it off, and which is now made the butt for the arrows of satire and sarcasm. I

si .ould like to prefer a request Here, ■which is ajbit like what, Paddy made when being' engaged to work for a farmer. He was- told that, he .would have to commence work at five, in the morning and leave off at seven in the evening. Pat suggested that the seven , should , be, in the morning and the five in the evening. It would make no difference to his honour, as the same hours would be in it., I would much prefer that the honours that are in resei’ve for me should be dropped on me now, and that they be of a substantial kind' —sacks of flour —pigs, alive .or dead; no tinselled wares, and let the arrows be saved to shoot at my mortal coil after I have shuffled it off. This is a part of that philosophy which I teach and practice, and it is always practised where brains exist. Fired from the Makarewa watch tower, , ' T. Buxton, Gunner.