THE LOAFER IN THE STREET.

Press, Volume XVIII, Issue 2703, 29 December 1871, Page 3

THE LOAFER IN THE STREET.

There is a difference between Christmas here at the Antipodes and in England (a remark which has, I believe, been, made before). Are there any families here who spend this festive season in the orthodox way, as represented in the illustrated papers ' and periodicals? If so, Where are they? j We sit down and eat pudding with the thermometer at eighty degrees in the shade; we wish each other the compliments of the season in a feeble manner, and this is Christmas. Where are the grandfathers sitting by yule logs? Where are the prodigal sons returning from foreign climes with gold galore, just in time for the Christmas gathering?. Where oh, where are the men that come in so opportunely (in the periodicals) to help 'omeless fellows like myself to a Christmas dinner and anew start in the world? Christmas is a sell here, except in the matter of bills. They are in reality, the compliments of this festive season; when my landlady presents mc with what she facetiously calls " her little account," I take it as a personal compliment. She must think I have money, or she would , not ask for it. If you, my dear reader, have bills, unpaid of course, on your table on this moment to the amount of (say) £30, you should look upon ! them as so many compliments from your ! respective creditors to your monetary position : and if you only think the matter over long enough you may, perhaps, if possessed of imaginative powers, come to the conclusion that you have the money to pay. 1 have never got so far as this myself, but I can believe it possible. If creditors would only meet one half-way, and imagine they were paid, what a sweet thing in worlds this would be 1

This is a world of change. We shall get honest some day, only I don't see the good of hurrying too much about it. ' Years ago, when we were boys together, you know, whitewashing—l allude to becoming insel-

vent—was not looked upon as anything very serious ; indeed I have known men not only emerge with flying colors from the Commissioners', but gain additional credit from every successive whitewashing. They always had money, these fellows ; they lived respected, and, what's a sight better, trusted by their fellowmen, and business flourished. But the beginning of the end is at hand. Judge Arney does not approve of this sort of thing. He has decided that after passing through the Court and declaring yourself unable to pay. the creditors may come down upon you at any future time for their respective amounts. Can anything be more shortsighted than such a policy as this ? In a business point of view, Auckland is done for. A commercial town without a properly-conducted insolvency business is like a steam-engine without a safety valve. Can anything be more unbusinesslike than a debtor declaring that he has no money to pay, and having to pay after all? The case, of course, only becomes harder when the man has the money in his pocket to pay if he chooses. If this sort of thing goes on, there will be no credit in honesty at all, and the benefit of the Act will be no benefit at all.

The C.V.C. Band play on Saturday afternoon now. Igo and hear them, mostly I do. In common with many more, I get my music on the cheap, and I take credit to myself that I think none the less of it on that account. Most fellows do. These growlers, a very considerable and influential body of the Anglo-Saxon race, are composed mainly of men who don't pay. You mark my words, the growlers will growl about that band until we shan't have it all. One man wants it to play in the gardens, another wants Latimer square : one man wants it to play at five, another at seven. In such cases where all agree to differ, it is best not to try to please anyone. I advise Captain Brett, or whoever has the management of the military musicianers, to let them play where and when they please; and if the British public don't come and hear them let them stop away. If the band try and suit all, they will have to play at Addington before they have finished. In the interest of the Christchurch nursemaids (and I assure you some of them are perfect ladies,) I should advocate the gardens, myself.

There is a movement in some of the adjacent colonies to allow women to vote for the Permissive Bill. If this be allowed we shall all be Rechabites in less than no time, which might suit Mr Hale, but not the licensed victuallers. A correspondent (I presume of the fair sex) of an Auckland paper who signs herself T. (Total she should have added) remarks that "thousands of helpless women and children are fainting under a too heavy cross, and good men are willing to take it from their shoulders and put wife and mother upon a more righteous footing with her husband, her children, aud society at large." After making all allowance, for (i .j. » —j mean the correspondent, not the beverage which cheers but don't intoxicate— I'm afraid she wants to rob a poor man of his beer. No, don't you think I'm advocating intemperance, its bad form and expensive, particularly when you have to interview Mr Bowen in the morning, but I do not think women should vote on the question. They would be non-permittists to a woman. They would so. Or else it would lead to Jane holding a threat over her husband that unless he bought the long-talked-of bonnet she would vote for the Bill. " T." suggests "purifying the tone of the now despised herd by sweeping out of existence the grog shop or by treating him as a maniac." Pleasant for the herds. "In exchange for his now grimy surroundings," says T., in conclusion, "give him (the herd, I suppose,) something of the Christ-blessed reality of this Godtrodden earth." Let the herd knock off beer, and give his wife a bonnet, that's what T. means I expect. T. commands my sympathy, but not my support.

I hate your new chums. They are nearly as bad as your, very old colonist. The latter, because he has been here twenty-one years, appears to find special cause for thankfulness that he is not as other men are. Your new chum, on the strength of having heard the great Vance, of wearing the last new thing in ties, of having £20 in his pocket, and being totally unfitted for colonial life in any shape except billiard marking, thinks anyone who has been here more than a year must be a savage, or next door to it. I like borrowing 2s 6d from a new chum without any thought of ever repaying it. In putting him through in this manner I feel as if I were doing my duty to my adopted country. What a fuss we make over emigrants. The Zealand ias, I see by your columns, at orice found suitable employment and that a much larger number of single men and women accustomed to farm work or domestic service could have found places. I wish I was a single woman accustomed to domestic service t they appear scarce everywhere : they are all ladies out here, and have very fine times of it. lam very pleased to hear the wages gave general satisfaction to the new comers. Where ignorance is bliss, &c. —they'll know better soon, these stalwart ploughmen and comely abigails, than to be satisfied with anything.

Talking of immigrants, I see Colonel Fielding is on a mission to the colonies in connection with the society for the promotion of emigration from England, under the patronage of the Duke of Manchester. He wants to buy land, I understand. How favoured some people are. Fancy emigrating under the patronage of a Duke, and having land purchased for you. I wish some Dook would buy land for some of us poor unemployed people here ; but charitable aid nearly always goes to the wrong people. Charity flies openhanded to supply missionaries and pocket handerchiefs to the Zooloos, in preference to supplying bread and cheese to its next door neighbour. Charity prefers going to Jericho with its two-pence-half-penny to giving it to the man by the roadside. If any Dook wants to help the colonies I can put him in the way to do it.

The loss of the Rangoon didn't do mc so much good as it did certain members of the fraternity to which I have the honor to belong, who inhabit the neighboring colonies of Australia. A correspondent has published elsewhere certain interesting illustrations upon this point, relative to two personal acquaintances of his for whom I have already begun to entertain feelings of the most intense admiration. He says that the loss of the English mail has been a great relief to his friend Sponge. He had exhausted his credit everywhere, and wearied his friends with applications for half-crowns, until he got out " that remittance from the old countiy,".which he had beeolooking for

so long and patiently. The remittance was "coming" out by the "Rangoon this trip. n;id in order to save trouble on t'. ; « side, tlu- •■ old man" had sent it in goKi. as ji p.-wvVl,'in-stead of. sending a bank draft. The correspondent remarks that as it is of course irretrievably lost, Sponge can make a fresh start in life relieved of all his old responsibilities. The other friend was the Hon. Tom Fuddleandmuddle. who had also got a respite by the sinking of the mail. His "governor" took the precaution to send out a bank draft, " a stunner, by jove, enough to square off everybody, and leave mc warm for another month," and, of course, it has gone down with the rest. The consequence was that " his creditors could'nt deny him tick, otherwise they wonld lose the old debts. It was rather annoying to them, because Tom had been under *a cloud for some time, and the governor had only just relented, and had made up his mind once more to pay off his old debts." I can tell you, my dear readers. I envy Sponge and The Hon. T. F., the exquisite feelings of relief they must have experienced upon this occasion : far more exquisite than those experienced by the fellow that gave a three months' promissory note for a very pressing claim, and leant back upon his chair exulting in the thought that " thank goodness, that's settled."