SHINGLE. THE FIFTH—" YOUR MONEY OR YOUR LIFE!"

Otago Witness, Issue 659, 16 July 1864, Page 9

SHINGLE. THE FIFTH — " YOUR MONEY OR YOUR LIFE!"

We are a highly moral people, and plume ourselves accordingly. We point with a permissible decree of self-compla-cency to New South Wales, and congratulate ourselves with no little unction, that we are better than our n i^hbors. Crime is scarcn in Otauo, and life and property are tolerably secure. Bushrangers <lo not often present revolvers at our hods, anO burglars seldom rifle our dwellings When they do break out in a fresh place, they are pri-try crrtain to be caught And m> we travel abroad as we list, and when at home we ensconce our beads in our peaceful nightcaps— pull the warm bankets round our shoulders— and sleep the sleep of the just, un ler the guardian shadow of Mr Commissioner Branigan and his bluecoat bo}s.

We are a well-to-do people. Goldmines and poverty can have no possible c( nneoti in with each other. Beggars— it is the vaunt of aU colonies— are unknown in our happy El Dorado, Mumpers set no mark— indicative of generosity or close-fisfedne-s — on our prosperous doors, as they do in the old country. Strolling vagabonds do not tkcorate our pavements wit»v inscriptions in iiidescent chalks, significant of un exhausted < pigastrium and an empty exchequer; and s'tabby-gentpel vendors of ludf.r matches do not mutely solicit our pence and invoke our sympathy. No ; everything is cohur tie rose, and the young cocks of" the Southern hemisphere crow iustily on their happy middens.

As a faithful Shingler, I am bound to say that all this is mere bunkum. Of dis"tress and want, Ileiven knows there is plenty around us m this city of ours (we have but one city, and that is like a child in a dangerously hydrocephalic condition) — and on our gold fields mmy there be who are doomed, like Tantalus, to sec untold wealth gathered within an inch of their hands, whilst unable to grasu a pennyweight themselves. Every oue must I? now something of such ca-es; and if he or she be true man or woman, will do something to relieve the sufferers. But to tell the British public that there are neither beggars nor bushrangers in the land )3 a monstrous attempt to blind the eyes of Her Majesty's subjects to a most obvious and incontrovertible fact.. Beggars there are in droves— bushrangers in such multitudes that the imagination sickens a£ thy thought of them. They waylay us in the streets, attack us in our homes, stick us up in our shops and offices, and compel us to stand and deliver on the Queen's highway. Not vulgar beggars in distempered rags, my dear sir, or madam, but beggars in silken gowns and superfine broadcloth. Not beggira with the tainted breath of poverty

upon them, but beggars with the odour of sancity. and redolent of frangipani. Not j blood-thirsty-bushrangers with murderous pi tols in their hands, " Full of strange oaths, and bewlel like a pard," but genteel and soft-spoken brigands, with subscription lists in their well-gloved di^'i'al^, with persuasive accents and insinuaMnv nuuners. These are the marauders who disturb our serenity, who force us to surrender at discretion, find cozen us of our hard cash. Ttiere is the philanthrophie bushranger, for iintince — a sort ■if hybrid between John Howard and Robin Hood,— who in the plenitude of his zeal for suuVrintr hutmnity, assails you with the most unblushing effrontery, and without so much as a "By your leave," or " With your leave," eases you of all the loose coins in your pouch, for the benefit of the " Decayed Oysterwoman's Asylum," or the support of the " Orphan Gumsucker's Home." Both are no doubt very excellent institutions in their way ; but why should I be compelled, nolens volens, to contribute to their maintenance, and that too, at a time when, possibly, I really cannot afford it. '* First be just, arid then be generous" — is a sound maxim and rule of conduct. Wherefore, then, I ask, should I be entrapped into voluntary donations (joolunfary^ indeed ! — Heaven save the mark ! — what a mockery), of money which is due to my yrocer, or my tailor? ''Charity begins at home." Yet the wife of my bcom has just intimated her desire for a new gown, or a shawl it may be, or a new bonnet ; and I have hardened my heart asrainst her, because I cannot very well spure the cash just now. And Tom sadly wants new inexpressibles, does he? — that last rent took an hour to darn, you know. And Dick needs a warm coat for winter, and dear little Nelly — God bless her! — a new pjiir of boots. Ah, well! they must wait till I can sell that stack of oats, or find a market for my cattle ; or, hotter still, till my ship comes in. And so I refuse each and nil of these pretty petitions, and thrust my I.at upon my brows and walk out, not over comfortable in mind, and half inclined to go back and to^ say — " My dears, you shall have the gown, and the coat, and the boots, and the bretks; and so come and kiss me all of you, this in3tant !" When, lo !I am stuck up by some peripatetic fieebooter, and, after a brief struggle, I yield. With more than a passing sii>h, I behold my few spare pounds invested in enforced charity, and the gown, and the coat, and the hreeks, and the boots are lost to my darling., for ever. Then there is the clerical beirgar, who meekly solicits my mite towards the building ot a new church, or a school -house, or, more probabty, a manse ; or invites me to participate iti the ghvious woric of providing muslin drawers for the female Gorillas. There is no cnauce of escaping scatheless from such appeals as these. I have already given the coats from the backs ot my famiiy. So the good man takes my own cloak, or the wherewithal to purcha-e it, and I must rough it as I may through the rainy season ; and when I sit beside the inele-nook shivering with ague, or tortured with rheumatism, I shall feel that I have laid up treasure where probably it will not be half as Well employed as it would have been if invested in a frieze cape for my aching limbs.

Very .few men possessed of moral courage cnukl cope with such assailants as these, or the adroitness to come off uninjured in the tenderest part of a man — his packet But if any such there be, let Ivm not imagine that be shall finally escape. No — a thousand times, No! "For a more remorseless and formidable force will be bi ought to bear upon him. The most ctnrming beggars in creation will he*et him ; he will be subjected to the influences of basilisk eyes and syren voices ; and if he looks and listens but for one second of time, he will be a lest man. Oh ! Jones— Jones !— ray dearest friend and pitcher— turn away your head and behold not, and resolutely close jour ears to the voice of the charmer, charm she never so wisely ; or I would not give a brass button for all the metal in your purse.

For these fair auxiliaries are the most dangerous and rapacious of spoliators — the most saucy and subtle of bandits. The male cadger I may perhap9 out-manoeuvre, and send away empty-handed ; the clerical moss-troopers I may possibly elude or avoid ; but who shall withstand beauty arrayed in all its awful panoply ? Not the old Shingler, for one. Radiant eyes and luscious lips are too much for ma. I am besieged, invested, taken by storm, and only too glad to capitulate on any terms. Irresistible in Balmorals, and invincible in many- hooped crinolines, the triumphant foe swoops down upon me like a whirlwind In vain 1 implore mercy for the sake of my little Shinglers' at home. My feeble defences are scattered to the winds; and behold me seized, stripped, and plundered, before I can recover sufficient breath to thank Heaven that I have not fceen bor ne

away captive in the train of ray tyrannical persecutors

Wherefore are these things ? Why are ringletted Turpins, and pstticoated Gardiner allowed to levy blackmail with impunity? Why does not that man in buttons — that very well got-up emblem of authority, who solemnly paces the corncompeliingfootpaths—why, I demand, does he not order, all and sundry such beggars to "move on"? What ho ! St. John to the rescue! Bring out your tight cavalry, and charge these bold bushrangers home. Ah, no ! Mr Commissioner dares not do that in the nineteenth century. Talk of s\ mpathy with crime !v! v Why if only one of these fair invaders of our peace was to be taken into custody for dipping her taper fingers into our pockets, what a hue and cry there would be! All the "crinoline in Otago would rise en masse; and we, the outraged, the robbed, the humbugged, the victims of their arts, should be compelled, at point of tongue, to march to the delivery of our beloved and lovely, but relentless tormentors.

As I write, there is a knock at the door, and I catch a glimpse of two scarlet petticoats and one black booic. Ila ! I know them. They always hunt in couples, seeking whom they may devour. Let me quickly fly to the only refuge where they dare not follow, and grin defiance from between the sheets of my bed.