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Otago Witness, Issue 980, 10 September 1870, Page 13

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get Canterbury by paying he* debts, if she have any (I'm not quite clear on that point, and since Vogel, who by the way, knows everything, and I, had a few words about the mail service question, 1 don't care about asking him), why she's blind to her own interests. Thus, you perceive, without the terrible cry of centralism being ever heard, we get centralism in the South Island, and more than that, we make the whole Island into Otago. Clever, isn't it ? And now, if after that exposition of my views, any one says I'm not suitable for a place in the Executive, or a lunatic asylum, I should like to hear from him.

My friend Vogel appears to have been making an exhibition of himself. The fact is, I am afraid that, like many a better man, he is somewhat spoiled by prosperity. That's not an uncommon circumstance by any means, for after all prosperity is the real touchstone of a man's character. Nobody knew thia better than Charles Dickens, and if his "Golden Dustman" had not really had a heart of gold, the character he assumed would have been a real one. 1 should like to be spoiled by prosperity very much, although I object to it in other people. That's only natural, you know. But, aB I was saying, Mr Vogel has been having rather too much of his own "way of late. He begins to think he ought always to have it, and if he doesn't get it, foolishly grows angry and rudely personal. He ought to know better ; I thought he did. But Mr Bunny amuses me. He defends the institution known as " log rolling "—" — or what the Scotch mean when they say, " Ca' me, and I'll ca' thee " — and says that without it nothing could be done in the House. Perhaps not. At least that may be Mr Bunny's experience. That it is a great institution there can be no doubt, and, like Yankee grab, may be quite fair, but then you see it's not supposed to be the correct thing. At all events, I don't think that a system of barter is the correct thing for our legislators to indulge in when dealing with the affairs of the public. If they can't leave the shop outside the doors of the legislative chamber, I think they'd better stop at home, and sell their wool, or their groceries, or slops, or law, or physic, or whatever other commodity they gain a living by, I don't profess to know much about it, but that's my opinion. Of course everybody has read Hans Andersen's fairy tale about the ugly duck, that was driven from the farm yard by the other ducks, gobbled at by the turkeys, crowed over by the cock, beaten by the children, and scorned by all ocher birds for its ugliness, until it grew into a beautiful swan. Well, the Wellington paper compares Wellington to that ugly duck. I don't see the analogy at all, except with regard to the ugliness. That's correct. With regard to the other portion of the comparison I rather think the boot is on the other leg. Wellington is not the meek little duckling spurned and ill-treated by the other denizens of the colonial farm yard. Wellington is rather the arrogant turkey threatening to gobble all up, and doing it to the best of its ability. What does not Wellington want to gobble up ? Can any one tell me that? Has not Wellington gobbled up a nice piece of fat in the way of being the seat of Government ? Did not Wellington gobble up the Panama service (which, by the way, Wellington kad to disgorge). Does not Wellington want to gobble up the Californian service? Then again, Wellington is the cock on hia own dunghill, never omitting an opportunity of sending forth his own shrill cock-a-doodle-doo, to his own glorification and the disparagement of all the other poultry. No, except with regard to the ugliness, Wellington is not the duckling of the story, but a duckling pure and simple, which may one day grow up to be a large duck, and say "Quack." Talking of Wellington, I must congratulate that windy city on having about the tallest talker, or rather writer, I have met with for a long time. 1 used to think ,that " high falutiu'," pure and aimple, was only to be met with on Broadway, New York, or in Montgomery street, 'Frisco. I was mistaken. A new star has arisen in Wellington, before whom the "high-faluters" of America may hide their diminished heads, may " pale their ineffectual fires." His description of the ball given to Commodore Lambert, as it appears in the Independent, is great ; great ! it's stupendous. None of your common English. No statement that "it was getting late." No, we won't have that ; we must have " the hoary headed scythe man sweeping inexorably along." No matter of fact "morning came at last." Oh, no, not exactly. We must have "chanticleer pouring forth his salutation to the awakening," &c. We should advise the Government to retain the gentleman who penned the effusion t© write their official letters. If there was nothing in them, they would at least be amusing. And that reminds me. Mr Domett has a grievance. He has been misre-

ported in Hansard, and he complains of it. It doesn't matter to him that other hon. members are of opinion that the reporting is excellent, and deserving of the highest commendation, he says that he does object to being gibbeted as a donkey. By the way, do they gibbet donkeys where he comes from ? lam afraid that if Mr Domett's complaint be a specimen of his average speeches, the oftener he is misreported the better for himself.