(By Sinecure.) Should any of your readers want to visit the Exhibition at the Town Hall, I should advise them not to go at a time when nocturnal vagabonds take their rambles. I walked in the other evening with a friend, and began examining some things, when, suddenly, wo were interrupted by a cry of “Elston ! Thieves !” We had hardly time to breathe a reply, in order to vindicate our character, to the custodian, before a figure appeared with a lighted candle in one hand and a “shooting iron” in the other. “I am here,” cried the figure, at the same time pointing the butt end of the gun at myself and the candle at my friend. “Shed no blood,” I replied, not wishing just yet to step across that line which separates the known from the unknown, and don’t look at me in that tone of voice until I—l make a—suggestion. “Right—make it,” replied the warlike figure. “ One, only one, small short sip out of that flask which we see in your coat pocket before we die.” We imbibed, and were let peacefully out, and for ever will remember gratefully our friends in Good Templary for the staunch support they allow their members in time of need. A friend of mine living near the sea writes as follows ; The heaviest soldier in the British army, Roberts, is an Irishman. The champion
pedestrian of the world, O’Leary, is an Irishman. The champion oarsman of the world, Haitian, is an Irishman. The champion swimmer of Ihe world, Boynton, is an Irishman. Further comment is unnecessary. My friend forgets to mention that the originator of the Ashburton Idustrial Exhibition was an Irishman also.
Mr S d was a bachelor, and he lived near Kaiapoi. He used to think a great deal of himself, and took particular care that his household, which consisted of a boy in buttons, should always understand how to attend when company was present. Ho gave a party one night, and in a proud moment asked his servant in livery to “replenish the decanters.” The lackey was astonished for the moment, but replied quite respectfully—“ Do you mean fill ’em, sir ?” There was a slight titter amongst the guests when the}' heard the reply, but S d did the work himself, and never forgave that poor boy—but sailed for England shortly afterwards.
A country farmer was looking at some of the exhibits in the upper room of the Hall yesterday, and was told it was Malachite. “ Gracious me!” he exclaimed ; “I thought Malachite was one of the Prophets ; how many changes take place in a few years.”
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JOTTINGS., Ashburton Guardian, Volume 2, Issue 303, 26 March 1881
JOTTINGS. Ashburton Guardian, Volume 2, Issue 303, 26 March 1881
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