The Contributor.

Southern Cross, Volume 8, Issue 34, 15 December 1900, Page 5

The Contributor.

DENIS DISCOURSES. Dear Mb Editor, Sure it has \been a grate week entoirely. The • excitemint began lashfc Saturday uiwht, when a barrel organ man was seen to lave his sthand forninst the ■Club Hotel an’ rush like wan possessed over to the Clothin’ Factory corner. The crowd followed, an’ he stharted to grind out tunes at a grate rate, but the Salvation Army on the opposite corner stbruck up louder than ivir, an’ afther tin minutes the organist wus bate aff the ground wid ■drum an’ tambourines an’ retired. They do be sayin' that some av the shopkeepers gave him a few shillins’ wid the hope that he’d make the Army shift to the rotunda as requested by the Council, but they’re not called soldiers for nothin’ an’ they mane ~to sthay till they get. advice from mead quarters. * * * Me owld frind Sergt. Fleming, of <rore, also had to bate a retrate wan ■day lasht wake. He’s brave enough to face a Boer commando singlehanded, but a bit av a wake wumman made him luk foolish an’ sint him ilyin’. She was singin’ in the strate, an’ me frind towld her ’twas aginst the law, an’ advised her to move on. She declined, an’ towld him that not even J. G. Ward, who cud move post affices where he liked in spite av Beattie an’ the rest av thim, cud shift her. The Sargint axed her name. ‘ Rose, ’ ses she. Thin he towld her he’d see her later on. ‘ Plase don’t Sargint dear,’ ses she, ‘ for me husband’s a jealous man, an’ moight be angry.’ The ■crowd laffed, an’ me frind lukt rosier than ivir as he departed, an’ left her -wid the honours av war. * * * Talkin av policemen, I see that Or. Thomson has been callin’ attintion to the larrikinism that goes on in the Park, an’ will have the backin’ av the whole community in his efforts to dacency an’ order. Ivirybody that wus at the show on Widnesday wus delighted wid the appearance av the place, an’ ’tis a grate pity to let jroung Goths an’ Vandals bring it into •disrepute. =* * * The Park has always bin more or Hess av a rendezvous for the larrikins. T daresay me frind Thomson will rimimber the grate excitemint that wus caused through a ghost ®ppearin’ an’ disappearin’ there, an’ frightnin’ the wits out av women an’ childer. That wus in the days whin the place wus a bit av a wilderness, wid deep ditches an’ clumps av scrub. Two min in blue were towld aff to catch the ghost, an’ wan dark night -ache heard the other movin’ through the shrubbery from opposite dirt cfcions. Prisintly they sprang at ache other, wan sayin— ‘ I’ve got ye at lasht, ye "villain,’ an’ the other ‘ Surrender in the Quane’s name, ye masqueradin’ scoundrel.’ It tuk some time before the situation explained itsilf. It Ilappened a long time ago, but I’m not sure that Constable Joyce av Otautau doesn’t renumber it to this day. * * * 1 don’t seem able to get out av the way ar the police at all at all. The other day I saw wan av our ould ex-magistrates in the person av Mr McCulloch goin’ along Dee street. Tis said by the man in the street that be has taken a house at Riverton, an’ intinds to live in that ■beautiful marine resort. # * * The sight av him brought some old memories back to me, an’ I remimher bow an ould idintity wance made a facetious remark in the Invercargill ooort, an’ tha man on the binch, whose good qualities included a bigger sinse av dignity than humor, thundered out —‘You have been drinkin’, air!’ ‘ Yes,’ ses the .ould fellow, T bad two cups av coffee this mornin’,’ an' will ye belave it, the magistrate sint him to gaol for contimpt av ®oort.

That ’shows ye that ye can’t take liberties wid some av our judicial min widout losin’ your own liberty. They’re not so free an’ aisy as they are in the States, where I’m tould they dispinse justice in their shirt sleeves, an’ shmoke most av the time. They say that the followin’ scane actually occurred in wan timple av justice:— : Magistrate (to prisoner before him for begging)—What makes you beg ? Prisoner—Because I can’t get any work, your honour. Magistrate—Would you do work if you could get any P Prisoner—Gladly, your honour. Magistrate—What work P Prisoner—Anything, your honour. Magistrate (rather stingy, with an eye to business! —I have a heap of weeds I want taken out of my ground —Avould you do that ? Prisoner—Yes, your honour ; only too glad of the job. Magistrate —You are discharged. Prisoner —Did you say I was discharged, your honour ? Magistrate—• Yes, yon are discharged. Prisoner—Then weed your garden yourself. * * * Och, but Widnesday was the day av days. They say that the country is the backbone av the towns, an’ begorra iviry bit came to Invercargill that day. Parts av it rolled in by ordinary and extraordinary trains, an’ parts by traps along the Horth and East Roads, and thin, like the butther at the show, it milted away in various directions, the mane strame stretcbin’ away from McGrner’s corner to the Quane’s Park. ’Twas the biggest an’ finest an’ best dressed an’ happiest lukin’ backbone that ivir was, an’ I thought at wan time that the secretary av the show, Mr Cuthbertson, wud be puzzled to find room for it in his spacious grounds, but he managed it- The only drawback was that wance in there was some difficulty in gettin’ out again. At wan period the min at-the gate ran out av passes, an’ if ye wint out ye wud have to pay to get in agin. Ses I to wan man, ‘ haven’t I a right to get out.’ ‘ Yes,’ ses be. ‘ An’ to come ip again,’ ses I. ‘ Not widout a pass,’ Sea he. ‘ Why,’ ses I, ‘ Ye’d think ’twas a lodge av masons or plasterers,’ an’ I lift. * * * Sphakin’ av passes, Angus, who was on the ground tryin’ to forget all about St. Paul’s church new organ, towld a good story av a Good Templar who had fallen from grace an’ tried wan night to get into the lodge-room. He gave the password, but the inside guardian towld him he cudn’t get in. ‘ Why not ?’ sea he. ‘ Haven’t I got the right password ?’ ‘ Oh yes,’ ses the other, ‘ but ye’ve gob the wrong smell.’ But that was wan grate fature av the show —there a man there wid the wrong shmell. Whin I met me ould frind Dayie Roche, ’twas the pleased man he was. ‘ Denis,’ ses he, ‘ did ye ivir see a sight the equal av this wan ? Luk at the beautiful belts av trees in the distance, the green sward, an’ the crowds av gud-lukin’ girls wid the sun kissin’ the cheeks av thim, an’ the sthrappin’ young fellows from the back-blocks, an’ the horses, an’ the cows, an’ the sheep, an’ the implements —.sure ’tis God’s own country we’re livin’ in.’ # * * t ‘ True for ye,’ ses I, ‘ an’ I believe ye’re a man afther the heart av me ould frind Oapt, Gardner, av Birchwood. That’s the rale ould Eagliah gintleman if ivir there was wan.’ ‘ Sure,’ ses he at the prisentation av a pair av gee-gees to J.G., ‘ there are three things I’d go a hundred miles to see—a good woman, a good horse, an’ a good frind.’ ‘ Wellj’ ses Davie, wid that readiness av repartee that’s wan av his characteristics, ‘ no wan need go that distance to see all three this day. But what’s up there F’ ses he, and aff he wint. * * * Och. but’’twas the sight av the! wurrold. There was me ft ini Tom i Ryden sittin’ on a horse labelled i

‘ Ist prize,’ an’ a man (wan Cameron av Winton) standin’ a little way aff an’ aimin’ a camera at the pair av thim. Tom sat like a statue av stone, wid his classic fafcures wreathed in a smile av supreme'contintment, but bis steed was restive, Ye’ve seen how a photographer will get someone to hold a toy or a pup or a kitten in front av a restless child. Well Tom had two min in front av the horse wavin’ their pocketh and kerchiefs for all the wurruld like Boers wid white flags, but the baste mistrusted their intintions, an’ in the ind I think Cameron had to give the job best. * * * ’Twas the brave show the Garrison Band made wid their kharki suits an’ their slouch hats. They lukt for all the wurruld like returned throopers, an’l wasn’t a bit surprised whin a man met Lieut. Siddall, and ses?— ■ How are ye, Jim Fahey ?* * * * The day was full av ivints, but Katie an’ I got quite a sthart on the way to the show whin we saw 40 boys marcbin’ along the street carryin’ what lukt like hymn books. ‘ Sure,’ says Katie, ‘ ’tis a Sunday school picnic,’ but whin wan av thim gave me a letther marked, ‘ don’t let your wife read this,’ I knew different. ‘ Sure,’ ses Katie, ‘ what’s yours is mine, an’ vice versa,’ an’ helped herself to the document. Her face fell when she found it was all about Irapey’s May Apple for indigestion. 4 Tuts,’ ses she, ‘’tis just like the min to be always remindin’ ns av Eve an’ the apple. ’Tis an impish trick.’ * * * I was sorry for the judge av horses at thfe show. He had a power av work to get through. Exhibitors are not all child-like an’ bland. There was wan at Thornbury the other day that played his cirds well. His horse had a down hip, but he kept that side away from the judge, an’ whin he was towld to go the reverse way he nivir heeded, an’ kept matin’ the other herses. An’ begorrav he got first prize. But he met a reverse at Invercargill,' for he had to go round, an’ he wasn’t placed at all at all, an’ wan av the horses he bate before got second prize. * * * # Ye must be careful av the company ye kape at holiday time, Mr Editor. A frind av Katie’s was watin* at the trane whin two ladies sat down, wan on ache side av her, an’ talked about the weather. Prisintly she felt a little tug at wan side, an’ the ladies wint away. ’Twas thin Katie’s frind found she’d been relaved ava valuable gowld chain. The gowld watch at the ind av it wud have gone, too, if the chain hadn’t give way. ... * * Sure ’tis the smart min the fire brigade are gettin’. Whin the bell rang on Thursday afternoon for a fire in Spey street they were there in a twinklin’. ‘By Jove ! ’ ses wan man, £ the brigade are the boys for being on the spot in time —why, wan av thim has actually got his trousers on,’ referring av coorse to the regulation pants, ‘ Well,’ ses another, ‘ ye’d not like to see thim cornin’ to a fire" widout thim, wud ye ?’ Whin I got near the scane wan fireman hild up his arrums, ‘ an’ Denis,’ ses he, ‘ luk at that.’ An’ there was a grate riot under ache arrum pit, indade the slaves av the tunic were just hangin’ by a thread, an’ he wud have passed for wan av the scarecrows that me ould frind Mr Preston" used to frighten the birds wid at the Retrate in the Waikiwi. Sure ’tis too bad not to give the men decent uniforms. Afther all the excitement the fire proved to be only some rubbish—as wan little gyrull said to another—- ‘ Don’t go any further, Polly—its nothin’ but some timber, an’ its out.’ * * . * But the crowning sensation av the week came on Friday, when the Pipe Band left for the North by the express. Whin they were manoeuvring in Dee strate, a big crowd gathered, an’ Lewis an’ Co.’s windows were filled wit faces, an’ avin Walker Bo} 7 ce, that I always thought was a County Down man, was dashin’ about wid a 1

Glengarry bonnet on his head, an* whin I sphoke to him he said:— ‘ Come a rash.’ Whin we got thim into a carriage the Mayor got us to give thim three cheers, thin Kenny Cameron an’ the pipers cheered us back agm. Thin Mr Watson axed us to give the Drum-Major cheers, an’ we did, an’ sict thira away wid cheers an’ the sthrains av Aald Lang Syne ringing in their ears. Sure, they’ll set all Sydney talkin’. There’s some big fellows amongst thim, an' the wan that bates the big drum Inks like a small wather tower, an’ the years av him only nineteen. The min lukt splindidin their white helmets, an’ the young’ women fairly beamed on thim. ‘ Sura,’ ses Katie, ‘ there was no need for the Hon. J.G. tohopeMacgregor ’ud come back wid a wife. The Sydney gyrull.a ’ll have no chance at all, at all. •How’s that, Katie,’ses I. ‘Where’s your eyes, Denis,’ says she, ‘ luk at the carriage windows —they’re all ‘engaged ’ already. Denis.