Intelligent Vagrant.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 242, 8 July 1876, Page 13

Intelligent Vagrant.

Quis scit an adjiciant hodiernse crastina summie Tempora Di Superi.— Horace. About the most novel compliment I have heard was paid in my presence on Tuesday night. The Colonial Treasurer had just finished delivering his Financial Statement. Says A to B, “ Why Vogel is only going to borrow a million and a quarter, though Mendax some time ago said he was going to borrow six millions.” Says Bto A, “ You can’t complain after all, Mendax told nearly a quarter of truth, a percentage hitherto unprecedented in his utterances.”

A concert was recently given in Wairarapa on behalf of a church. The admittance charge was five shillings. One person who paid his money and attended went out during the evening for a drink. On returning he found that the concert had terminated and a dance was going on. He presented his ticket, but was told that the saltatory portion of the entertainment was intended solely for the enjoyment of “ the gentry” of the district, and that the preceding concert had been intended for the amusement of the vulgar, and in full satisfaction of their several five shillings. He was refused admittance, and is now looking out for the gentry, but, alas, is like the Scriptural gentleman, seeking rest and finding none. Sir George Grey’s eloquence occasionally merges into bathos. On Thursday evening he told how the Maori Kingites had recently sent him an embassage in the shape of one old woman, “ and, Mr. Speaker,” said Sir George, “so impressed, sir, was I with the importance of the occasion, so much did I feel the vast consequences to the human race and posterity that were pending, that, sir, I was afraid to meet her alone.” He should have added “ and unprotected.” An eminent historian, now in Wellington, has been attending the sittings of Parliament since the session opened, in the hope of improving himself. The result has not been perfectly satisfactory, I fancy, for the other night I asked what he thought of the debates. “ Well,” he made answer, “my reading has told of the existence once on a time of a Barebone3 Parliament. My personal experience has brought me in contact with one that may be well termed a Jawbones Parliament.”

In a supplement to a paper published this week I notice an advertisement from the Education Board of the province of Wellington notifying an approaching examination of teachers. With refined irony, the printer has placed the advertisement under the appropriate heading “ Coaches.”

I hear from Auckland that a statue of Sir George Grey is about to be erected there by public subscription. Mr. Andrew, M.H.R., has kindly supplied an appropriate inscription, taken from Tacitus, and running as follows : “ In nullum reipublicse usum ambitiosa loquela inclaruit or, translated, “He became celebrated for an affected and ambitious verbosity, attended with no advantage whatever to the State.” If Mr. Valentine had been a certain friend of mine he would not have fallen so easily into the snare set for him by Mr. Delahunty. My friend was recently granted a license for a new hotel in a small township. The granting of the license had been unsuccessfully opposed, and some of the opposers thought to trap the landlord into a breach of the law by inducing him to sell liquors before the Ist July. So on the 30th June they procured certain thirsty souls, and having provided them with sixpences, sent them to the hotel, which the landlord was busily stocking and fitting up, and made no doubt but that he would be eager to commence business, and would not hesitate to serve them, even though the legal day had not arrived. Even should he refuse, one object would be gained—he would make himself unpopular with the topers. But the landlord was a man of resources, and prevented both catastrophes. He served the drinks in all instances, but refused payment, stating that each drink was a loan which could be easily repaid the next day.