[By Sinecure.] Sparrow Clubs are springing up in all directions, and the feathered depredators will lead a lively time of it if things result as appearances promise. Recently, at a meeting of a Sparrow Club situate some few miles from here, a prominent and apparently well versed member of the Club submitted a resolution wherein it was proposed, “that all poison supplied to the Club should go through the Chairman.” The Chairman, however, did not see it, or rather, I should have said, was the only person who “ did see it,” and he declined to “play sparrow.”
They’re not particular, those miner fellows in Victoria, if I may judge by an item which appeared in the correspondence columns of the Australasian, and which stated that “at a recent shire election one of the candidates died before the election came off; acting on the advice of counsel, the poll was proceeded with, and singular to say ,tho dead man was elected.” This was complimentary to No. 2on the list. The correspondent doesn’t say so, but I expect those electors must have been, as is usual at elections, spiritually inclined.
It is amusing to note the answers sometimes published in the leading colonial journals to questions put by correspondents to the editor. Recently the following appeared in the Wellington Post in answer to a Carterton correspondent who sought information as to the method of administering by-sulphate of carbon for the destruction of rabbits in their burrows, viz.; ‘ ‘ Make a small ball about the size of a small stick. r ’ Whether that enquirer succeeded in following out this lucid instruction must, I suppose, for ever remain a myth. I may be curious, but I’d like to know how he progressed.
That was a “merry” time of it (old King) Cole had during his four days’ “ putting up ” at a certain little hostelry over the water. Well, “ a fool and his money are soon parted,” but its time this colonial system of “lambing down” was put a stop to by the law.
There are some owners of horses in the North Island who are, I should judge, inveterate enemies of the knights of the pencil and book. The man who christened his moke Parikorangaranga must surely have had in view the indirect destruction of a few bookmakers, tor I’m certain some cases of lockjaw will ensue if that horse ever occupies first favorite’s place. Fancy having to shout out—“ I’ll lay 2tol on Parikor
Perhaps some of your readers have wondered why ere this a lengthy reply to “ A Roman Catholic’s ” contribution has not appeared in your paper with my nom de plume attached thereto. Well, Mr Editor, the reason is that I never answer .anonymous correspondents who display their vituperance over a matter in no way intended to call forth the ire of any particular body. This, I think, will be deemed sufficient explanation of my heretofore silence. I certainly was somewhat surprised to see that one of my last batch had acted on the bilious organs of one of your readers, and was still more surprised at the charges of little-miudedness, bigotry, and a number of other choice expletives applied to me in your correspondent’s amusing production. Was it a case of measuring another’s corn by his own bushel ? Don’t you think the color of the glass through which my remarks were perused had a great deal to do with it ?
“ Uneasy is the head that wears a crown,” but how much more so must be the head that bears a coronet and the following selection of names viz : George William Christain Albert Edward Alexander Frederick Walderaar Ernest Adolph ; which I learn is the revised and correct list prefixed to the family name borne by the infant son of Princess Thyra and the Duke of Cumberland. Only a total of 71 letters, ten of which are capitals. Rather rough, too, I should imagine, on the younger sons. Where will they raise names to gratify the demand in this direction in the future ?
I notice that, notwithstanding the disclosures made in connection with the Rodanow Watch swindle, some of the country journals still publish the advertisement of the bogus company. The Inangahua Herald is one of these.
Who has not come across instances of the “ dignity of labor ” ? But I heard of an instance in point this week which I think puts in the shade any I ever before heard of. The scene was one of our leading hotels, and the time (as the playbills say) the present. A generally-useful—re-markable for nothing but laziness, and hair of as fiery a red as you might discover in the course of a pretty long day’s travel —had been summarily dismissed by his employer, and being apparently somewhat loth to leave a comfortable home, a little force had to be used to induce him to quit the premises. The necessary power was applied, and the hot-headed one seemingly took his departure, and calm once more reigned over the shrine devoted to Bacchus. A quiet half-hour was allowed to elapse, and then enter to mine host the discharged rouse-about, and requested to bo re-instated, you say. Not so. What recked he of the loss of place ! of pay ! ! of power !! ! His modest request to his late was not even for a character ; only a demand, couched in the politest of language, for the restoration of the handful of auburn locks which had been abstracted from his shock head in the powerful melee consequent on his summary ejectment.
And now let me put aside my motley, let me doff my cap and bells, and give me space to pay a tribute of respect to the memory of the many brave men who undauntedly met death, fearlessly battling with the elements on board the ill-fated Tararua. Of all the accounts which I have read of the scenes on the fast-sink-ing vessel, I can find scarcely one that does not tell of personal bravery on the part of some of those who have now stepped across that line which separates the known from the Great Unknown. Personally, I knew but few of the lost ones, but amongst that few I number the late Captain Garrard. And when I read the narrative of the sailor Dcnz, published by you this morning [This portion of our contributor’s article appears to have been written yesterday.—Ed. O. ], and came to that part where lie tells of the gallant joung captain holding thesailor’s infant child in the fore rigging high above the seething billows, seeming ingly anxious for their prey—well, I think I felt a touch of that “nature which makes the world kin.” Now, feeling the utmost for those who are gone, let ns not forget those who are left behind to mourn them ; and, while wo know that no help of ours can bring solace to many a sorrowing fireside, let us do the best we can to alleviate the sudden sufferings of the many unfortunate widows and orphans bei-eft of the one they held so dear—the one who, under Providence, was their mainstay and support.
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JOTTINGS., Ashburton Guardian, Volume 2, Issue 338, 7 May 1881
JOTTINGS. Ashburton Guardian, Volume 2, Issue 338, 7 May 1881
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