THE CONTRIBUTOR.

Otago Witness, Issue 1602, 12 August 1882, Page 26

THE CONTRIBUTOR.

CHABAOTER SKETCHES.

By ROLANDO MAX.

"No. I.— "Worrytown.

Many years ago, in the palmy days of my youth, when my locks were thicker and of a darker hue, it was my lot to pass, at intervals, a considerable portion of my time in the important district of Worrytown, situated about sixty-three miles south of the metropolis, and lying in the basin of that mighty river whose waters, flowing still and deep, are said to carry a larger volume to the ocean than any other of the rivers of Australasia.

There was little attractive about Worrytown ; it was dreary, dull, and agricultural, and lay exposed to the south-west winds, which during winter and the early spring came sweeping through the gorges, chilling to the bone. The Burface generally was undulating, and the soil rather poor. The subsoil was of a very stiff clay, so that when_ rain fell copiously, as was often the case in Worrytown, it was long before the moisture left the ground. There is no question about the matter — Wovrytown was a dreary-looking place.

But, just as we sometimes see a human face redeemed from ugliness by the beauty of one solitary feature, so the aspect of the district was rescued from complete monotony and insignificance by its bush, which clothed the slopes of a hill on the southern border, and was a land-mark for miles around. It was decidedly pretty, and in places even picturesque, more by contrast with the tameness of bluegum and tussock and cultivated land than from any remarkable beauty of its own. Worrytown was glad of its bush, as Jonah was of his gourd. Let us pass the dwellings which nestle in its shelter, and begin the ascent of the hill. An old man approaches us. His hair is gray, his face is rugged in outline, and he carries a stout stick cut from the grass-tree. We are evidently looked upon as trespassers, and regarded with no favourable eye. ' Shust you look here now ! What ta teevil are you tooin 1 on my kround ? '

We apologise and explain, and he seems satisfied, not only allowing us to pass through his property, but courteously pointing out the best means of reaching the hill-top. Arriving there, we have the district at our feet. Before us, on the high road, stands the church, a huge, ungainly building, awkwardly placed on the fork at the junction of two roads ; beyond it the parsonage, and behind it the school and master's residence ; while to the right, on a knoll of rising ground, is the premier store of Worrytown, owned and kept by Mr Whitelaugh, a gentleman of Highland blood. About two miles along the road to the left is the second store Of the district, the property of Mr Merryboy, farmer and storekeeper, also hailing from the Land o5o 5 Cakes— the auld toon o' Ayr, where Robbie Burns was born.

The character of the people of Worrytown was worthy of special note, and full of interest to the student of human nature. There were Highlanders and Lowlanders of Scotland— the latter rather in the minority, and here and there an Englishman. Taken as a whole, they were a hardy and intelligent lot ; good-natured, too, in the extreme — easy to lead, but hard to drive.

With a few exceptions they lived a quiet and humdrum life, stayed at home, and looked after their own affairs. The exceptions consisted of a few old ladies of both sexes, who had banded themselves into a club of special reporters, aa they were called, making it their business to collect, suggest, or, at a pinch, to create news, and thus provide intellectual excitement sufficient to keep the settlers from entire mental stagnation. If one of the club got hold of a nice little bit of gossip, off he or she would run to the nearest neighbour to retail the same with infinite gusto, and occasionally with no little exaggeration. At stated periods, too— weekly, it is said— they met in private, to dispose of the country generally and settle their neighbours' affairs ; or, if the weather and roads were good, they would walk arm in arm, holding sweet converse on the same topics, improving at one and the same time their legs and their minds. At odd times two or more might be seen under one umbrella or one shawl, when it was generally supposed that some poor unfortunate was getting it ' hot.' At the same time, one and all of these reporting characters cordially ' hated scandal ' — a fact which must be borne in mind.

But if a Worrytonian got his arm broken, had twins, or did anything out of the common, the intelligence, by means of the reporters, spread through the district like wildfire, and the subject of such news became popular— the hero of the hour. Hitherto he had been nobody ; now he found himself famous. It was unanimously decided that there was something in him.' They criticised him, magnified his deeds, his faults, his abilities ; picked sides, and fought for him and over him, and only stopped short at presenting him with an address and a purse of sovereigns.

Those who declined to respond to the call of the reporters, or join in the ferment on such occasions, were looked upon by them with a kind of condescending pity, which, however, did not seem to distress them much, for they held the opinion— and did not hesitate to give expression to it— that the district would be greatly improved by the absence of gossips and scandal-mongers. Such a term was, of course, too severe, to apply to people actuated by such benevolent motives, and who possessed so much mental activity that they were obliged to find some such channel for running off their surplus stock. In addition to those of the reporting class — who, it will be seen, were comparatively harmless, and indeed rather a boon to the district than otherwise, inasmuch as they kept the place lively, and in a manner made it famous —there were others of a much more objectionable type. _ These were the Worrytown spies. If an individual on an occasion of merrymaking had been indiscreet enough to imbibe rather freely of the cup which both cheers and inebriates, the spies would put themselves to no end of trouble to note the circumstance, in order that they might report it to the spiritual adviser of the district. Such characters are sometimes found even among good-natured and well-disposed communities such as Worrytown ; but perhaps the less said about them the better. They have a taste for carrion, and, like the vulture, can scent it from afar. Happily for the credit of human nature, their number was very small. Taken altogether, Worrytown was very like a human being— not by any_ means perfect, nor by any means bad, but with much good and some evil. We never yet have seen a perfect man ; and if that gentleman were to put in an appearance, it is questionable if one would care to cultivate his acquaintance. For myself, I prefer something human, and therefore often think with no little pleasure of the days I epQnt m wp»'ytpwn,