STREET VENDOR'S ROMANCE.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1749, 13 September 1905, Page 24

STREET VENDOR'S ROMANCE.

A strange, romantic story is told by a little, white-bearded, old man, who peers shrewdly from behind spectacles, and, in spite of his 84 years, is as mentally alert as he must have been in his prime. John W. Burt is his name, native of Ringwood, in Hampshire, ex-colonial farmer, and until recently a seller of newspapers in the streets of London, who lives in a County Council lodginghouse, but takes his meals at the Hotel Cecil, and can recall the.piping times when he was “mate” at the Ballarat /gold diggings to the Hon. Richard Seddon, nenv Premier of New Zealand. Mr Burt came to London chiefly in connection with a law suit, which has involved the complete loss of the competence he made m the colonies —'but that, as a certain distinguished novelist is fond. of saying, “is another story.” And Mr Burt has other stories that are full of a deep human interest. Sitting at a common deal table in Parker Street lodging-house, he tells these tales sometimes with a quiet chuckle of enjoyment, and occasionally with a shuddering recollection of their peril. “I was with the first Government escort of gold from Ballarat,” he says, “when the bushrangers stuck us up, and Mr Seddon was there too. They took all our gold, and I lost £760 worth, but that was nothing,” he adds, with a philosophical shrug of his shoulders. “I soon made up for it. .1 was always one of the luckiest of men out there. Mr Seddon used to ask for some of my ‘wash-dirt,’ until my mate —Charley Knight was his name —left me, and then Mr Seddon joined me, and he and I worked as mates, and he was as good a mate, and no mistake about it, as any man could find. “Had wou luck when you and. Mr Seddon were mates?” “Oh yes,” was the laughing answer. “Mr Seddon used to say it was all my luck, but.l didn’t believe it.” Some of Mr Burt’s most exciting experiences were connected with the bushrangers. He remembers the stoiipy days which inspired “Robbery Under Arms.” “I was never nervous or timid,” says Mr Burt, “but when I met Rocky Whelan I admit my heart went into my mouth. I was taking some money into Hobart for a Mi James Vigor, and was riding his horse with the money strapped in front or the saddle. T “Whelan stuck me up, but I said l had lost the money, and asked him to take the horse. Whelan said, Ihe horse is no good to me; give me some tobacco.’ I gave him some tobacco; we sat down and smoked a pipe together and had a chat. In the end I got on with Vigor’s money, but it was trie-narrowest-escape I ever had.” |

[The above extract, from an English paper is probably “romantic” onough, but is reprinted for what it i» worth. /