UMBRELLAS.

Tuapeka Times, Volume III, Issue 110, 17 March 1870, Page 7

UMBRELLAS.

(From CasselTa Magazine for December.) It is, we believe, still an unsolved problem as to where the pins go when they have terminated their career of usefulness. Poor Eichard, in his "Almanack and Way to Wealth," tells us that " a pin a day is fourpence a year ;" but although he wrote more than a hundred years ago, we doubt very much whether the four pennyworth was ever fairly collected by the most persevering of his disciples. " To seek is to find," is a very good proverb in its way, but it is one which we haye not found to " work " in connection with a much more important object than a pin, although it is one quite as often lost. We italicise the word lost, because by it we meant to express the idea of j loss in its abstract sense — an unintentional, undesigned, and entirely fortuitous abandonment of possession. The article to which we refer is our own — shall we say, in general terms, man's ? — indispensable bore, nuisance, call it what you will — an umbrella. The limbo of departed umbrellas is as undiscoverable as that of pins. "Is there a man with soul so dead Who never to himself hath said " " Bother it ! What have I done with my umbrella? Where can it be?" To these questions Echo alone too frequently replies, in her usual imper- j tinent manner, " Where ?" | We have heard of " settled " pro- j perty of various kinds ; but who would dare to pretend to settled pro- J perty in an umbrella ? We have seen the feather cloak of Montezuma, which covered his sacred person when he was seized in his own palace by the adventurer Cortez; a coat of the miserable James the Second, of inglorious memory, in the museum of Bruxelles, and personalia of the most unimportant description of the fir;t Napoleon, and other illustrious or notorious persons, at Madame Tussaud's and elsewhere ; but we do not remember anywhere to have seen an umbrella of historic interest, so transitive, and at the same time so intransmissible, as it in its nature. As Manfred observes — "Surrow is knowledge. They who know the most Must mourn the deepest o'er the fatal truth " if they have been the possessors of many of these articles. If the Quaker maxim, like other yer J good ones, could be carried out in its integrity — "When it is fine, always take thy umbre^a ;• when it rains, do as thee likes " — all would be well. But no infallible rule is given for bringing it back again. How many, like ourselves, who do " like " to take one when it rains, have done so, but, having laid it aside for a few minutes during a short cessation, have so lost sight of it for ever { " Though lost to sight " — in a pecuniaiy point of view — " to. memory dear." A case -of this kind, in which we were the sufferer, which recently occurred, enables us to throvr a little light upon the mystery ; we therefore submit it to our readers. We do not wish to be understood to have solved the entire mystery, as with the knowledge to which we haye attained of human nature, we are aware that the subject ia inseparably connected .with a low degree of morality, from which, in this regard, we fear that some of the noblest minds are not entirely exempt. Custom in some cases-, as is well known, is superior to law, and it is, we presume, upon this principle thafe the appropriation of an umbrella which has been accidentally left, is generally made without any very anxious inquiries after its former owner, by persons who are altogether above suspicion of meanness or wrong in relation to any other matter whatever. In those instances, the application of the lex talionis is held by not a few to be not only justifiable but laudable. We seldom feel more embarrassed and annoyed than when we seem to know exactly where we must have left our last, and go to demand it with an air of the blaadesfc assurance, and look upon a brow upon which a cloud of the severest virtue seems to. settle, and listen to a voice tremulous with an emotion which we would fain believe to be generated ,by the consciousness of innocence, as its utterance clothe: a denial of all knowledge of the delinquent, at the same time firm but gentle. As we ,turn away — our better nature struggling, probably, with suspicions which we wish to suppress as unworthy — we feel our humanity to some extent degraded by its connection with such a " confounded -thi&g." That these suspicions are very frequently unworthy, and that the mystery which has formed the foregoing observation can be- partially explained, will appear from the following little atory,. for the truth of which we can vouch of our , personal knowledge. In the month of February, within the last decade, we had- occasion to meet a gentleman at the Hotel, in the Strand. The hour was about eleven in the morning, and we found our friend in. the coffee-room alone, engaged in letter-writing. He is one of those men who think that by their umbrellas men should be known, and is generally armed with one of Sangster's best, and was so, as he- declared, when he entered the room, upon, that occasion ; but when he arose to leave, no trace of it could be found.

" Here, waiter, where the "Where is my umbrella ? I put it into the stand when I came in, that I can declare most positively, not twenty minutes ago." Umbrella, sir ? Don't know, sir. Think you must be mistaken, sir. Only one gentleman been since you came in, sir, and he on?y ar.ked for a glass of bitter and a Bradshaw, and did not stop two minutes, sir. Seemed a perfect gentleman, and I shouldn't think he took it, sir," ect., ect. Suffice it to say that it was not found, and so evidently hopeless was the case that it was speedily replaced by another. In the month of April following, my friend was again seated alone in the same room, at about the same hour of the morning, busied with his correspondence, with his umbrella duly deposited in the stand, when an exceedingly well-dressed gentleman, from his garb a clergyman, entered, in a brisk and apparently somewhat hurried manner, and asked the waiter if he could favour him with a Bradshaw, and for a glass of ale. There was something about the request, tone of voice, and manner of the individual which immediately associated itself with the circumstance of his former loss, and gave rise to the following sotto voce rapid dialogue :—: — "I say, P ," addressing the waiter by his patronymic, "I verily believe that's the fellow who had my umbrella." " Well, sir, now I come to look at him, 'pon ray life I almost think it is, although he isn't dressed quite as he was before." " Well, suppose you station yourself in the passage " — which, by the way, is a very narrow one — " and see whether he tries to walk off with this one." " Eight, sir. I'}l attend to it immediately," said Mr. P aloud, and he took up his station out of sight of his guests accordingly. He had only left the room a few seconds when the stranger tossed off his ale, threw down the book as though he had not a moment to spare to save his train, and rushed away, gently lifting the umbrella from the stand, and taking it with him. Before P could get out more than, " Beg your pardon, sir, but " he became sensible of a by- no means light grasp from behind, including most impartially his very white neckerchief and the collar of his very- well-made clerically-cut coat, with the vocal accompaniment of — " What are you going to do with my umbrella ? ** " I really beg your pardon, but I so seldom travel without one" — which was no doubt pex-fectly true — " that I took it up quite unthinkingly, and — " ! " Who are jo\\ r and what are you 1 Quick ! w " How dare you seize me in this rude manner, sir 1 Let me go instantly, sir, or " " Not if I know it. Who are you, and what are you ? I ask you again, and only once more before I hand you over to the police." By this time all parties were enabled to realise the situation. The one found himself in the grip, every moment tightening, instead, as he fondly hoped, of relaxing, of a gentleman standing just six feet four in his stockings, and about as powerfully built as he might expect to encounter in his morning's walk, and saw that a personal struggle, for which he at first seemed partially inclined, would be hopeless, without counting- the waiter,, who still remained, prepared for eventualities, between him j and the street. Our friend, findinghimself" absolute master of the situation, half inclined to relax into a smile at the success o$ tl>e manoeuvre. Scanning each other without changing their relative positions, for a second or two, both reassumed their habitual coolness, and the stranger took up the talking. "Well, my dear sir, I can easily show you who I anx Here is my name and address," producing- from a handsome card-case that of a highly respectable clergyman in E Square. "The fact is, that I am a literary man, and am so absorbed in my studies and subject to absent fits, that I sometimes forget what I am doing, as I did now ; but it is quite a mistake,. I assure you. You can. easily convince yourself that I am the last person in the world to steal an umbrella or anything else." " Weiy said our friend, " J. should 'be sorry to visit a mistake through. al> I sence of mind upon anybody; therefore, to clear up. the matter, you shall just call a cab and take* me. to this address. If I find it all right, there will be an end of the mattej\" "Oh, certainly, with the greatest pleasure. But I must go first to my ' publishers, in Fleet-street ; and if you will wait for me here a very few mm- j utes, I will call for you and take you there." "Well, that is a tolerably' cool arrangement, but I shall put up with.no more nonsense. lam quite satisfied now that you are a pi'ofessional thief ; but, as I am busy, and do not wish tobe bothered with you* more than, I can help, I tell you. how we will settle it." Thei'e was an. attempt at a rush and a bolt, which proved futile, on the one part, and a shake up on the other, so vigorous that the waiter told us that he really thought either the wall or the fellow's head would have been seriously damaged. When the shake had come to, an end, the parley was resumed.

" Well, what do you " What I propose is this — and, mind, I do not wish to force either of them upon you. You shall make your choice of three alternatives. I will either give you as good a thrashing as I can administer and let you go free, I will hand you over to the police, or you shall deposit a sovereign in the hands of P hore as security for the return of the fellow-article to this, which you stole from me in February from this place, by three o'clock tomorrow " Expostulations, protestations, and oajolery were all in vain, and the sovereign remedy for the difficulty was that ultimately chosen; and he disappeared with amazing alacrity. Mora out of curiosity th.au with any idea of again seeing his property, our friend was at his post nearly half an hour before the time appointed, and so, very soon afterwards, was the pseudo-clergyman, with it in his hand. Throwing it upon the table in the most impudent manner, he said — " Grive me my sovereign." " Oh, it's all right ! This is mine, sure enough. lam glad you found it," said W , taking possession of it. " That will do !" " G-e me my sovereign, I say." " Well, I cannot do that exactly, because, do you see, I made a present of it to the waiter yesterday, when you handed it to him. You can go, and the sooner the better for your health !" " All right, sir. That is quite right, sir, I assure you, sir. Just as Mr. W says, sir ; and whenever you like to do a little more in the same lina upon the same terms, I hope you will think of this establishment, sir. Much obliged, sir. Thank vod, sir." Mr. X did not remain to take his accustomed glass of " bitter," nor did he ask for Bradshavv, to ascertain the exact time of starting of whatever train he might have selected for his departure ; but with the air of a man who had made an unsatisfactory bargain, disappeared. Strict moralists may feel disposed to say that, thief though he was, faith should have been kept with him ; but then it must be remembered that it was a transaction in which au umbrella was concerned, an article the most subversive of faith and morality in the world. If no moral can be drawn from the story, a useful hint, at least, may — 'namely, whenever a stranger comes in your way in odd places and makes trivial inquiries — especially if you be in an hotel,and he sho uld inquirefor Bradshaw and a glass of ale — keep a sharp lookout upon your umbrella. We wonder what is a fair day's collection, and the average income of an active practitioner ? We should like to know.