THE SHEPHERD KNOCKING DOWN HIS CHEQUE.

Waikato Times, Volume VII, Issue 341, 21 July 1874, Page 2

THE SHEPHERD KNOCKING DOWN HIS CHEQUE.

(Town asj> Couktey.) The above is a phrase of colonial life, with which, unfoitunately, many of our up-country readers must be familiar. From its earliest days it has been one of the institutions of the country. In the very old times when the shepherd followed his flock from dawn till dark, through the long summer days, or the cold pitiless stoims of winter, and the hut keeper having cooked the humble fare of the shepherd, and shifted the hurdles, took possession of his watch-box alongside the yard to repel the attacks of the wild dingo during the night— this was the fashion. The cheque earned through six long dreary months, went then as it does (though not so often) now. The custom is happily becoming a thing of the past, but in noticing this peculiar feature of colonial life it will be interesting to trace the orign and cause of such a deplorable usage ; and only fair to put on record at the same time what extenuating circumstances there may be. These old shepherds and hut keepers from their solitary life— rarely seeing a strange face— very frequently become more or less insane, indeed it was almost a rule that they were more or less Cranky according to the number of years they had been so occupied. The monotony of their life induces an unconquerable desire for excitement, and in the stimulant of ardent spirits. This excitement is most readily found. Solitary confinement is said to be the most terrible of inflictions, and though the shepherd has had solitude and freedom, yet his mind becomes enfeebled, if not his body, and when he returns to the haunts of men he has not nerve enough to resist the craving for stimulants. He thinks a glass of grog would do him good and perhaps it would, if taken in very small quantities at fiist ; but being unaccustomed to it, the effect is so much greater under the influence of a single glass. Everything looks rose color. He says " that did me good, I'll take another, and perhaps you and your friends will join me." They do it "with pleasure," and listen with breathless interest to the stories which, with suddenly loosened ton<me he soon begins to relate « I never heard anything so wonderful! You must take a glass with me now?" says the landlord, "just for friendship, and then sing us a song. It is a poor heart never rejoices." He sings of a maiden most wonderous fair, <ire. The others are enraptured. " Your good health and song," is drunk from the bottle of brandy the poor shepherd has ordered in. More songs of the same tender nature follow (for it is stronge the charm these simple ballads have for them) ; more toasts follow, and soon the gentle shepherd is snoring on his back, and his mouth full of flies. "Now he is right," says one of his newly-found friends— "it won't take much to lamb him down." When he awakes with aching head and trembling limbs, the rosy tinge of existence is restored by " a hair of the dog that bit him," or another glass of " Oh, be joyful." Each glass of course involves a " shout all round for the company— such is the custom— and these " shouts " recurring pretty often,— as the score goes up, the funds go down ; the game goes on perhaps for two or three days or a week, according to the amount — until the cheque is melted." Many of these old fellows have been pugilists in j their younger days, and in the quarrels that naturally arise, their science often more than balances for youth in a combat with an unskilled man. Some of these, after two or three glasses, instead of singing of gentle maidens, will ask the landlord if he can fight, and as each glass excites his pugnacity, the more and all declare they are no match for him, his cheque affords him for the moment the pleasant delusion that he is a gallant young warrior again. With these men, indeed with all bushmen, the fiddle is all powerful ; at its cheerful strains animosities vanish; the glass goes merrily round ; jigs, hornpipes, and dances without name, engross their faculties, and the din and tumult constitute their ide* of Elysium. The cheque being thus duly "knocked down, the rosy dram soon fades into the sad reality that there is nothing for them but the road again ; and sad enough it is to see them start on their cheerless path with a swag— their only possession— and nerves unstrung, oiten to a state of delirium treniens. In former days these swagmen were always sure of a night's quarters at every station, for it was convenient to the squatter to bo able to replace a man afc once when his time was up. At the present time, in districts where the runs are fenced in, and shepherds and hut-keepers arc no longer required, this hospitality is discontinued, with a few exceptions, and these for the most part aro where the poor old fellows have made their way to the back eounl rv, vheva tho sliefcp are still shcphculed. . * There is a fine field for the missionary, for per-

haps in no part of the world is there greater menta and spiritual destitution. The wealthy philanthropist, looking where in all the world he could best bestow his means, could not find a better way of serving his fellow creatures, than by sending ministers to rescue if possible, the remaining tew of these wretched beings from their otherwise inevitable fate. This system of " knocking down the cheque," initiated by the old shepherds, is still practised, although to a less extent by the present generation of bushmen, who have not been shepherd's generally, require greater inducements, and where Bacchus alone could not sneceed, Cupid's assistance in the shape of pretty barmaids serve to seduce the youth from his sobriety. Should she smile on him he drinks to every charm she possesses ; and as these multiply with each succseding glass, he soon gets into a helpless state. Should she frown he drowns his disappointment in the flowing bowl, and tells her she drove him to drink. Horse racing, gambling, as well as quoits, skittles, billiards, and other games played for drinks, all assist at times to bring about the same result. Drunkenness is common enough in every country, bxit it is in Australia alone that the system prevails of men going deliberately to a public-house, to spend, indeed, every shilling they have in the world — the result of months, perhaps of years, of toil and privation — in "knocking down the cheque."