FROM MR. PUNCH'S PORTFOLIO.

New Zealand Herald, Volume V, Issue 1516, 3 October 1868, Page 6

FROM MR. PUNCH'S PORTFOLIO.

pai/rriOAii dtaksbs. We have reeciced from a correspou'lc./it, who professes to understand the Alaori litiiyuaye, the folioiciwj report of theproendinr/s at a dinner r/ieen by the Superintendent of Haiv/cn s J3<'y to the Jfaori representatives t on &'atimlar, evening lust : Sce:,-e. Tho lodginsg of D. .*Te!>ao, IJjq. Tiroo five p.m. Tho table l'a laid for sis, •■>. itcLean is II pipe. i'vtr. OrmonJ is reading the Independent -with firoit rolUli. 'i'areha ia o"n the sof-i, discussing his eiith rum-hot, as a whet before dinner. Mr. .McLean.—What can have becoma] of John Patterson ; X toid him five punctually. Mr. Okiiokd. —Soma of that Princesses' mob have got hold of him. Thoy shepherd him very close. Russell, confound him, ho haa got opinions of his own.

T aiik HA.—7sugli! Kaipai. (Licks the sugar out of the bottom of his tumbler ) Mr. McLSan.—(ln aboriginal language). You can't h".re any more. Ball's coming ; voa "knsw him, great Pakeha, brought military settlers out; eh, to pUnt potatoes, eh, for Maori to dig, ah, great chief.

'Par kit a—More rum—kaipai—'l'areha thirsty. Enter JMr. Sell in evening costume. Mr. Bell: Ho islei ean how are you ? Ormond, cold better? What a tplcndid speech that was of youre the other night, ne sr heard a better in the House of Commons j quite crushed them, they must go out. Ho 'l'areha, how are you, how is Mrs. Taroha ?

Taheha—(with a fiendish laugh.) You go now, to 08k mo about wifej, Maori no medile with Pakeha's wifes, eugh ! (prepares to take off his coat.) Mr. McLean-—Shut upTareha! It's only Bell's politeness (aside) which be hanged. "We'll have in dinner ?

Tareha—Eugh! Kaipai—(smacks his lips) (Enter Mem Kingi and John Patterson ? ZTeti dames round table and rubs noses with company ? John looks glum ?) Mr. McLean-—Where have you two besn, at the pah,eh ?

Meti Kingi—Grout shark fine—have bought him, only la. fid.—took home in ca*>—oh, —he smells fine, yah ! ( Wants to dance again, but is restrained ?) John Pattersox—Why you make me promise vot9 ? vou humbug John you, and you Bell,—you say give back confiscated lauds to Maoris, no intend to do so ?

Mr. Bell—Thehon. gertleman must be under a grievous misapprehension—what I said was, when asking for his vote, that the Government would not give back the confiscated lands, not that our revered host, Mt. McLean, intended to do eo—we are so groud of your joining our party as the representative of the noble chieftains of the South, that we wouH strain any point, oven a point of vemcity, to suit your views (smiles benignly *nd places hand on John's shoulder.)

JOHN P.—Georgy G-rah.am said, you bad, Government bad, all bad. Mr. McLean friend of mine—give him vote—any rum ?

Mr. McLean-—(ln English)— Bell, what a confounded nuisancp these niggers are, here's that beast Tareha been lushing on my sofa all day, and swears he won't wear clothes any longer, but attend the House in a.blanket and war paint; Meti is not much better —as for Pattorson he is a poor miserable creature, easily led but never safo. Mr. Bell.—A vote's a vote ! It may bo a nuisance for you to shepherd the Maories, but look at me — look at the confounded thick-headed idiots I have got to deal with. Somebody has gone and blabbed, by the way, what I said in the Lavatory the other day, about the country party. I can see that confounded Hnughton has hold of it. Some of the "Tooraloorals" won't even l->ok at mo now. Mr. McLeajt.—You will he such an oily humbug! Why not try the hearty jovial style, like me? The " bluff Highlander" is not such a bad lay I era tell you. jMy native policy has piii me very well. Me. Oiiiroxi).—Hear, hear.

[The dinner arrives,preceded by a\ strong odour. It consists of three dog fish, and a dish of putrid maize. Shark cutlets, served with train oil, form the cntret.)

Mr. Bell—(imploringly in English"]—McLean, must I eat unv of this ? lam quite sick already.

Mb. illustrious senator—''A vote's a vote!" What is train oil to one's country's good ? ( Confidentially)—You'll find the dog-fish the least nasty. Mr 1 . Bell (plaintively)—l havej eaten dirt enough! but never this. Mr. OiiiloND —iVb chance of turning out Stafford must bo l;st. Talk of "d>g Gsh," I'd eat a dog to do it! Mr. Mclbax—Bell, how shall we stand? Mr. Uell—lt's all goosed. There will bo a majority against us, unless we can got over three or four of tho other side. Wo are trying everything possible and impossible. The particular bait considered suitable has beon carefully dangled before the nose of every member, but they are too fiy.

{The conversation is here interrupted hy Tareha choking himself with a dog-fish bone, which was being cxtractcd by Mr. Bell when our reporter left. N.JB. —Be was •planted outside the window). —New Zealand Advertiser.

[The Government- looked with a very different e e upou Mr. McLean's shepherding of the ri l 'tiro members when tho latter voted with ministers. It ia a liors3 of another colour nw.]