MISTHER MURPHY VISITS TAY WHITTY.

Temuka Leader, Issue 256, 11 May 1880, Page 2

MISTHER MURPHY VISITS TAY WHITTY.

Star Horn, Auckland. April 23rd, 1880. I’m tould that yer rheaders has h«*en In » mighty grant state of anxiety about me, bektys I’ve been silent for the past fsw weeks, so 1 have. Well, betchune you and me an* the bedpost, the Guvmlnt' have aintme dancin’ round the counthry like a bare on a hot griddle, an' bad scran to thim, thej’vs scarcely give me time to dhrop a line to Molly an' the childer on the Kay. Bad luck to thimselvea and ther Roval Commisliuns 1 If iver I jine another o’ thira me name’s not Murphy, so it’s not. You’ll see by the superscripshun that I’m in Auckland at prssent. I’ve just returned from a visit to Tay Whitty, and wid yer lave I’ll give ye a short account of our intherview. Av coorse when Guymint determined to sind mess special plinny-pb-tinshirry to the grate profit, ! mads it a siney cue non (this is not Frinch, but Latin) that I should go alone, barrio* me private saycritary, for ye see I undherstand how to dale with the Natives,bekays I was brought up on thim, so I was. (Me unkle Darby, pace to his sowl, used to projooce some beautiful pink-eyes an’ lumpers.) Well, widout inthrooding too much on yer valuable apace, I’ll come to the pint o’ me visit. I lift me private saycritary to mind me portmantey. at Parihakay, an’ procaided alone, all be me* sllf, to Tay Whitty’a Pa. Before I raich’d widin a hundhred yards of the chief’s wharry, the profit ran but to iuibrace me. After we rubb’d noses, the grate chief ses : “ Gnddhay raata tbu, Paddy, arroon, I’m proud to see ye.” (Tay Whitty spaiks Irish wid the graitest iise.) *’ The Nme to you, an' a grate many uv Aim,’’ ses I. ‘‘Come along, avick; machree.” aos he, “an’ wet yer whistle,” ses he, and he dhragged me’into his wharry. Bo the liokey, it’ud do yer eyes good to see how the Wyhenns, yjung an’ mid, kisse 1 an’ fondled an’ (aisled me that evenin’, so it would. But,' begorra, I mustn't take up yer valuable apace wid an’ account av it Ther was grate goins on intirely, an’ Tay Whitty th.rnited me like a gintleman, so he did. The nixt mornin’ we procaided to business, an’ the followin’ is a rondinsed report av the procaidiot. Aft her wo wer lift alone in the wharry (the Wyhenas went out to the back yard to have a game o’ forty-fives for aping o’ tobaccy). Tay Whitty began Misther Murphy, I’m now addbrossln’ ye in yer kar-ac-ther av nlinny-po-tinshirry —that’s the raison 1 don’t call you Paddy. Now, I want ye to tell mo, in a few words ns possible, the objick av yer misslnm, ses he. O, grate profit an* mighty chief, sea I, puttin' on dignity, an’apaikin' afther ther own poitic fashln, bear the words <’ the high Pakeyha, Sir Herkulis, an' his prime car, Jonny Hall, ses 1. 0, noble Pakeyha, I’m all attinahun, ses he ; spaik on. The sny is broad an’ wet, an’ the land is fim an’ dhry, ms 1 • Kapai, Pakeyhs, me ears are open, ses he. The grate kanoose of the Maoris wor made to float, an’ the fish wore made to swim, ses I. Hail, grvto Pakeyha ! ’Pon me aowl it’s thrue for ye, ses I. _ The shades o’mornin* are hidin’ ther dusky night caps beyand the Silurian deeps, an’ the man in the moon takes a lunar at the ould Jew Pettier, who gets his livin’ be hawkin’ luciiers, twelve boxes ». shillin’, sesT. Wise art thou, O Pakeyha; be the hokey ye spaik like a book, ses he. Whin the ploughshare sinks into the soil the clay is ginerally disturbed, an* whin the seed it spread broadcast it ia sown, and rich crops are the fruits of a plentiful harvest, ses I, cornin' to the pint <>’ in a misahun. Lot yer mouth be open once m-rc, for though I’m a great profit, I’m at a slight loss to undherstand yer manin’, so I am, ses Tay Whitty, lookin’ moighty puzzled. I’m tould yer a grate boy intirely for dhramos an* visions, an' sich like, O profit, sea I. Salutashuns, 0 friend Murphy. Words ia words, an' whin a man spaiks he invnryably s*s somethin, ses he. Musha, bad luck to the thruer word ye’ve iver spoke in the hole coorai hv yer life, 0 might profit, sea I. The foam cornea on the shore, an’ the hills are not the valleys.; an’ the bones o’ me aneiathors cries alowed for vingince, sea he. Arrah, don’t git a timper, great chief, says I. Frind Grey is frind Grey, and frind Sheeiian is frind Sheehan, an’ cabs is cabs, s6s he. Begorra, y«r a filosopher, O wise profit, sea 1. When I gaze thro’ the misty visf's (not wax vistas) o’ the past, down info the mountains of the fuchure, an’ behould the lovely angels, wid wings, sailing through the vapor o'* time, a glorious penny rama

opens it i I ■ ■ me bewildhered gaze, »e» ” lie Och, Ink a tli.it now, sea I. I »ee a fieri- 1- ocean roarin’ above the bill .W-* «V diai-.air in the nithcrmoat rigiona sin • I heho'tl'l a sh.ml ay’ horrid-lookin’ mon-tucra plungin'in the seethin’ N'lim. I sev him thryin’ ioraic.i the ahor», ‘••■it a glorio"8 army o’ Maori warriors ape r th* accursed varh.inta before they get to the surf. Tney are d«*ad f ~dead, dead ; and I • bchould in big brass kar-tuHliera on aich o’their foreheads the magic word, Land* ■hark, and the first Tndi!sth*r that led ths shoal haira the potent monogram FW, , , on his doyen fins, whilst the word Piako ise graved undher his hungry gills. An* • now, now I. behould a noble Pakeha night : on a white steed, plungin’ throngh ; the briny broikers where the warriors are •ihraggin’ the landshsrks ashore. He raises his phiz-sir or hilmit, and I ray-cog-nine Sir George—Sir George an* the Dhraggin. The mysthery is cleared, an’ me vision fades, ses he, lookin’, ws ; ry, and robbin* Ids eyes, for all the world like Misther W dkef, the mayjimu. ' The Maoris are a noble racy, ©aider than Adam, an’ sprung from anshint history an ivolu-hun, but the Pakeyha, kem over the says—says I. ‘ Silent he thy tongue, 0 Pakeyha, for I feel me collar risin’. ses ho. 1 may mlnshing ong. passong (Friuch) that 1 made him a prisint av a box o’ paper collars the pravious night. Silent be thy tongue, O son av a say-cook, and heat, file spaik, see ho, looking mighty fierce,wW- Hia two eyes roitlin’ like a mad bull in a chaney shop. The Pakeyhss kem over the says to says our land ; hut the land is all covered wid my blankit, so It is, na* there is no room for any judge of conimishun to sit upon it—do ye mind that now I The Guvmint must knni to my wharry, for I shall not go to theil Hall, bad luck to the step, st» he. They’ve thriel to do widout me, therefore I shall do away wid thim, an* they shall he as naught. I’m tuuld that they have a mighty priest and profit named Tommydick. who has the infnrnal impudince to pray for my convarshun ; but I’m a graiter prulit than he. I, Tay Whitty, am abeer, while your Toinmydick is gettiu’ into the seer and yallow laif, s<*s he. Go back, O Pakeyha, and tell the Guvmint that I've had a vision and a dhraime, which, be yer lave, I’ll give ye in varse. The profit then proeftided to chant the following tangi I’m a profit wid a gre« big P, Au’ ruler av the whole counthry | • I snap me finger at Guvmint taunts, An' so do me sisthers; me cousins and me aunts I had a dhraime, a pleasant dhraime, Whin iverythin r was still j ' I dhreamt I saw Sir George bring in A party Native bill j He stood up in the House an* spoke, In tones both loud an’ high. An* Wakefield cried aloud, ‘‘.Bosh! smoke An’ r Pyke sed “ All me ©ye." - Oh Sir George and Johnny, don't ye cry for me, I’m gwine to laugh at Guvmint, an’ rule the hole counthry I dhreamt that I got at the dodge* of Hall’s Though Rplleston stood at his side, An' all wor met in the Parliame* t walls - Had broken their pledges an’ ■ lied | The whips wor all ready to count, an’ most Wor purchased without any shame; . An' I also dhreamt that the-Pakeyh* host Wor diddled an gulled jist the same I dhreamt that the people wor. robb’d o’ lands, An’ night* wor all wasted in sprees, An' vows that no kon-stit-u-ints could withstand Wor broken for tips an'.for foea; An T thought that I saw an avb gin’ gho«t Stand forth the hind to claim ; An’ ji-t as Sir George had ray gained his post, 1 vijke an* ’twaa all the same While Die profit wos singing, he danced and twisted himself about like an ourang-outang,-iin’ begprra I w.ns mighty glul to get away fn m the korero wid a hob* akin, for afth. r he’d finished the tangi he remarked that he felt peckish an ud loike some nice baked Murphies. But I wpsn t . to be caught, an’ here I am in Auckland Safe and sound, so I am. —Your*, etc., PADDY MURPHY. - Saturday Advertiser.