A FEW REMARKS

New Zealand Times, Volume XXX, Issue 6623, 12 September 1908, Page 5

A FEW REMARKS

(By '■H9.”) “‘Nothing,' is a barrolless bung-hold with tho bung loft, mu’—and I 'have nothing to write about. Said this cipher to one of his dearest friends “Anything IrtVhr” Replied he. "Nothing." Thou ho launched out into columns of stories o: tho gruesome past. Said he’d read something about Von Tempsky.in tho “Times’* lately, and got; to talking about bowio knives, and scimitars, and chopped off arms, and things like that. Said ho was a reporter once on a southern paper and hml to call at tho hospital in order to gather up tho latest nows about deaths that had happened and inquests that were to bo hold. Tho wardman was im obi soldier—a Von Tompskyile. Tho ancient said that the late. Prussian was a wonder with a bowio knife, and Urn reporter, like all reporters, didn't believe him. Tho old follow told how the Into Von taught ills men to throw the knife, and the writing man was still incredulous. "Can you throw a knife," asked the reporter. “Stand against; tho wall, and ]TI show -on/’ replied tho old chap, who was cutting tobacco with a butcher's knife. The reporter did not stand to bo thrown at. There were two skulls on a shelf at tho far end of the room. Onewas wearing a smoking-cap and the other had a pipe in its jaw. Thu ancient heaved his knife and it sped to tho cyo socket of the skull with tho pipe in it and quavered malevolently. Then the old soldier rascal told how the heads had come along on tho shoulders of patients; how he had heou interested in the one because it had a couplu of bullet holes and a sabre slash in it, and how the other had a small scratch that had "let out loved life," The in an with tho bullet holes and the .sabre slash, Lad come along with his brains oozing on to Ills boots and the doctor had said that it was no good disturbing tho poor ehapp who would be dead in no time. They left him to die in comfort. When they went back to put a meo clean shoot over tho corpse, the owner of tho head, was silting up iu lied smoking furiously. A week or two afterwards ho was discharged cured. He wont out on a dog-killing lour, for the loss of brains had disturbed his equilibrium. lie was charged with killing several hundred pounds worth of dogs,, examined, and found “wanting.” Anyhow, he came back to the hospital todie of phthybis. Said he. one day, to the old-soldier wardman: “Look here, if you. will keep me in tobacco until I lose tho number of my mess, you can have my head —and the builds in it." Tho bargain was made, tho man died, and the body wna comfortably laid nut in tho morgue. Tho old soldier didn’t know how to get his bargain, but ultimately stole into tho morgue and chopped it off witli a knife, lie buried it for a bit, tied a weighted pillow ou tho deceased’s shoulders, and got through tho burial ceremony by sheer good luck.. Then lie felt nervous about that head, end one day, in a lit of courage, dug it up. He boiled it nice and clean, and as he look it out of the saucepan, tho bullets fell out. Without a blush tho reporter tolls how he stuck his linger in the bullet holes of that cleaned skull, and how proud the old soldier was of it.-

Then there was another story of tho same old wardman and sonic more reporters. A man had hod his arm crushed in a sawmill ami he had been brought into the hospital to have it removed. jk was duly severed. One reporter called to get the latest stories of blood and surgery, and tho old wardman, in answer to a question as to where the severed limb was, removed e. sheet of newspaper in the grate and showed it to the inquirer. The inquirer, as in duty bound, shuddered. But there came along a reporter from a rival paper also on tho inquiry business. Ho stood talking to the old wnrdmau with Ida back to the grate. The other newspaper person stole up behind him and hooked his arm friendlily in the aim of tho newcomer. Then he substituted for his own arm tho limb that hud lain in tho fireplace. The- newchum reporter knew nothing for above an hour after this, for lie fell fainting. Naturally the old. soldier laughed.

But cheer up! There arc other pracjokes that are not so, gruesome. For instance, this number was onco shovelling coal for tho chief engineer of a big irrigation plant. Tho (J.U. wasn’t popular, ami it wus "up to” his slaves to get even with him. Tho country whero this small pale event happened was intensely snnkey and the slaves simply went out with large sticks and slew a long black snake beside the calm, weedy billabong. Then they placed (he dead serpent on tho chief engineer's lied and hid behind the boxtrccs until he went oil shift, lie entered his gunyah slowly, and emerged with rapidity, wearing u candle-coloured appearance and making madly for the scrub with ; his largo frontal protuberance finding it hard to keep up with his hinder anatomy. Courage returned and he picked up a'juvenile log, returned to his dwelling, and slew the dead snake.

, Then ho brought it out bent round a stick and showed it to us, boosting about his courage. “See the snake I killed," he asked, holding tho specimen towards Hughio Henderson, six feet four ii> might and terribly sinful and muscular. "No," said Hughie, "that’s the snako I stiffened and put on yer bunk.” With a screech the chief engineer hurled his stomach and all that followed it at Hughio—and the way tho C.B.’s stomach hit the ground as "Hughio mot him iff north-west Victorian history of tho early nineties.

Here’s another yarn that Edgar Allan Poo could have told several thousand times better, and for which he would have got quite a lot of drinks. It iff rather comic too. Boundary rider and hia son in a backcountry humpy in South Australia. There is a well quarter of a mile away with a weighed lover to draw the water for the sheep. There are among: other things in Die malice scrub surrounding tho humpy—hlackfellows, One day some blacks arrived and asked the old bounrtarv rider for food. The old man refused, for tucker was scarce. Tho blacks faded away. It is a nice, hot evening, with the sun streaming level across tho broad salt lake, which tho mountain ducks arc leaving for homo. The old man has put a leg of mutton in the camp oven and is sitting reading a ncrap of newspaper—say six months old. The boy is tent to the well with, a bucket to get some writer for tea. Ilf takes tho dogs. While ho is drawing tho water, the dogs whimper and nose in tho direction of the hut. The boy wonders whv and hurries back with the water. When he gets to the hut, hia father is not there. He finds that iiia father's old snider ride is absent from the corner by the bark shelf,’ and concludes he has gone out to shoot a wallaby. A smell of burning remind? him that the mutton his father put in the camp oven may bs aooked. He lifts the lid with a wire > ook—drops the, lid and screams. There is no mutton ia the oven—but his fail ?r’s bead is there. When the great driv of blacks took place in a certain small corner of South Australia, that boy, grown to manhood was in it. lie is very fond of the rifle with which he tried to get even with n couple of doxen blackfellows on that day.. He toid me last week that he has hated' tho smoli of singed hair ever since ho was fourteen years of age. ■