Jottings in Queen Street.

Thames Star, Volume VII, Issue 2136, 8 November 1875, Page 2

Jottings in Queen Street.

FROM OUB AUCKXAND COBBESPONBBNTv '■■-

Pour o'clock in the morning Las pealed in a disjointed, unmusical way from thm clock tower in Queen street. At the last" 1 stroke I take my stand to watch the " early birds," who arc proverbially sup* posed to catch night-prowling worms who have not hurried to bed on the break-of day. The first bird I see is a tall, hand* some Policeman, walking with a regulation pace quietly up and down his beat. I know all '-Jus worms have been caught and safely housed in the lock-up, to afford a meal for the. Beaks— I mean Justices. lean-teli (because his clothes are clean), that no howling brother or screaming sister has "unprettied" him for the last few hours, or, if one was caught, he or she must, hare been led a willing prisoner to a bed preferable to the lee side of a fence, or the chilly archways under many of the hotels. By the time I have noted Mr Policeman, he has " pegged me off/ so strides up practising that " professional stare" so much written about lately; he tries to " fix me with his glittering eye," as Coleridge's Ancient Mariner did the young fellow that was. going to get married ; but he can't, for « his eye wont glitter at such an., hour; so after an effort that produces temporary. strabismus—which means a squint—h» gives it up, breathes a sigh, and passes on to give way for the ue*l bird —thp Shoe«

black^Wh^e s;^s"birdTrb6stsr iSSver can discover. I*know it is ; not on the banks of a purling brook, but more likely in among the coals on the wharf. He knows all about coals, and likes Bay of Island coal to sleep on better than those of Newcastle — the latter is hard and pointy even though it is dearer; while the former crumbles away nicely into the shape of the body; but this is a luxury only gained by escaping the clutches of the watchman, and not to be taken every night. He looks first at Mr Policeman respectfully, spitting deprecatingly on his brush. Then his bleared, blood-shot eyes take me in their' focus; he looks at my boots only to be disappointed of a job. Then his toilet begins. He brushes his hair carefully^thviugli I ,£a.ncy the shaky hand sometimes inflicts hard knocks about the head. Then he mends himself in places with bits of string; which is easy work and soon finished, so he fills his pipe and starts,,to clean his own boots. . This breiki the spell, for but; strolls from—-well. anywhere, a young fellow, smoking the half batt of a* filthy ci^'ar, more "than half sober—which you know is far worse than half driink-rrl don't -see him because, he does not want to be seen, so I reflect over Young :Men's Christian Associations, and lailors' bills,-and other unpleasant things that must be in that young man's mind w-hile he gdts his boots "cleaned.: I. fancy the lies he has to invent and tell twhen he goes to his lodgings—lies that HfcgJiHEbbl enough to think are believed. He"iteps> jauntily away, passing the many fishmongers' who are thronging to\ the wharf in ■ search of fish. : These are a queerlo<rOf ; felloes, rand only tip be^ seen initSe^atlythprhing. 7 'They nfever wash; they swear;"smoke, drink rum, "pints of ale,'',and v .wearJbasketS;as receptacles for theirVa^es^king toullett aid scjhnapper aii. yet'areraltogetfer 'ajstoujti deceit-look-ing I^6rfe\lows.; Now. a gradual change takes^l^ce. i ■ It is half-past; four, and the glonouis ,^un. is tingeing with: ; thousands of r'.^pgM,',hues' i i i,tbe; taper masts of the. *, ijes|els;. : lying' at : the - /wharf or idly swinging in the stream; :the bright day of a New Zealand summer has arisen again, etlie "clouds; afid sky biushing at their own ''beauty.;i The rugged fishermen pause to give & long and a^hiHringlookHd the east, i say this is real poetry, but it isn'tras far as the fishermen ar^e. concerned, ( for-do T I not Keaf ma^finTße^o£pinyi6ngii6s at the laziness of landlords who won't open beforefive Vcibck to supply cooling Seccombe anid she-oak to the parched throats yet burnirtg irbm yesterday's rum and tobaccp., A general emptying of the street leaves the meditative policeman and myself alone. This tells me some bars are open;; and while the clock peals out five in mournful numbers; Mr Policeman "paints the lily" by pirating a cheap brush froml Blacky, who has fled for his beer, leaving his stock-in-trade entirely •unprotected. - I contiriue ray perigrenations with the pleasing: knowledge that I am aware of the time of day, which is more than a good many folks can say. Eanghtoto.