THE LIFE OF BISHOP POMPALLIER

Otago Daily Times, Issue 23109, 8 February 1937, Page 11

THE LIFE OF BISHOP POMPALLIER

TO ITIE EDITOR Sir,—lt appears that “ Koroko’s ” persistent pen, and the unrevealing efforts of Mr Geo. C. Thomson, are destined to prolong this unfruitful controversy upon a subject of which little authentic knowledge is known. From the letter by the Rev. T. A. Pybus, of January 29, one is inclined to gather that this correspondent has something up his sleeve, which, when revealed, may change the face of things, and which “Koroko" is vainly endeavouring to draw. The origin of this argument, it will be remembered,” was headed “A Mission Centenary.” Since Mr Pybus claims that the Rev. Mr Watkin was at Otakou before the Roman Catholic bishop, the adherents of both claims have still to prove beyond doubt that both men were at Otakou before each other, and at the same date, nevertheless—quite a simple matter. Now, however, your correspondent, Mr Thomson, drags some Anglican preachers on the scene—a point which “ Koroko ” fails to challenge—and which further adds to the merry mix-up. Mr Pybus, however, is to be commended on his tactful reply to “Koroko,” while the substance of his letter bears out the opinion which the majority of your readers must have, Sir—namely, that it is yet too early to discuss such matters, and that if the correspondence continues much further, that appreciative spirit desired by Mr Thomson in his first letter would be likely to wane.—l am, etc., February 4. C. D. M.

TO THE EDITOR Sir, —“ Bishop Pompallier did not arrive at Otakau in a ship.” So says your correspondent, Mr G. C. Thomson, in your issue of the sth instant, without informing your readers how the bishop did arrive. The worse avarice is that of sense, says Pope, and it occurs to me that Mr Thomson might have spared your readers a little of his sense without a great loss to himself. After re-reading Mr Thomson’s letter on Friday night, I got my Bible and read a chapter, then went to bed, and during the night I dreamed a dream. I saw Captain Cherry and John Muir pushing a punt, at high tide, up the Waikouaiti River to Paget’s roadside receiving store. I saw a waggoner on the Main North road drive a horse shoe nail into a beer barrel to relieve its high blood pi’essure, which is a very prevalent disease with beer barrels

in road wagons in hot weather. I have seen a good half-bucket of beer squirt from a nail hole when a waggoner has drawn che nail from the barrel with his horse shoeing pincers. I saw two dead whales at the mouth of the river and some Maoris shaving slabs of blubber off one of them with what appeared to be very sharp spades, then putting the blubber into trying pots. Suddenly a strange, foreign-looking man stepped out of the belly of the whale and swam across the river to the beach; he staggered along the beach for a distance then over the sand hills and across the mud flat to Oxley’s big store. There he rested for a while, and, seeing no one about, staggered on to Pearson’s red store near the Weslyan Church. Pearson seemed surprised, and gave him • a tin of salmon, at the same time pointing in the direction of the York Hotel near the Catholic Church. This hotel was kept by a Frenchman named Dubois (usually pronounced " dough boy”). Here the stranger found a French priest named Father Royer and two medical men who had been Edinburgh University chums, and many others who were having a good time. When he told them that he had just come out of a whale’s belly, where he had been for three days and three nights they seemed incredulous. He referred the company to a Maori named Parahu who, he said, could verify his story, as he was the first friend to offer him a drink when he gained dry land. What will you have? asked one of the doctors. “A ginger wine, thanks,” replied the stranger. “ but you must first take this tin of salmon. I have had more than enough fish to do me for the remainder of my life.” Subsequently it was found that the tin of salmon gave the medical men also enough fish to do them for the remainder of (heir lives, as some Waikouaiti old timers will be sure to remember. I heard a revolver shot at the Golden Fleece Hotel on the next hill that woke me with a start, and a voice said, “Sergeant Naden.” It is said of some dreams that they are divinely inspired. I certainly do not think that, (he spirit that inspires my dreams is divine.—l am. etc., Joseph 11. February 8.