The Contributor.

Southern Cross, Volume 13, Issue 44, 27 January 1906, Page 5

The Contributor.

DENIS DISCOURSES, Dear Mr Editor, —I hope you are a Scotchman, or if you haven’t that honour, thin for goodness sake assume a virtue if ye have it not. For this wake at lashte, life isn’t worth livin’ if you are not Scotch ,to the backbone an’ spinal marrow av your anatomy. Is it axing why that ye are ? Sure, man, don’t ye know that Thursday lasht was the anniversary av the birthday av Robbie Burns, the poet that Angus McGregor an’ thousands more av his counthrymin swear by. “Well,” ses Katie, “I don’t see why they shud be axther makin’ such a fuss. It makes ye think that grate min are mighty scarce in a nation, whin they make such a fuss about wan av thim.” “ ’Tis the good excuse they have,” ses I, “sure, if Scotland had nivir .produced annything but the bagpipes an’ Bobbie Burns she has earned great claims to our undying - gratitude. They may well fale conceited whin they’ve got the pick av the basket in the matter av grate min, to use the expression av me ould irind Willie Waddell, av Waikaka Valley, whin I met him cornin’ from the sale av prime stock at Mr Heaven’s farm. Afther axin’ me to remimber him kindly to Mr Thomas Middleton for ould acquaintance sake, ses he —“Man, Denis, yon man Beaven had some bonnie beasts, an’ I think I hae gotten the pick o’ the basket. Wait till show time comes round again, Denis, an’ I’ll show folks something worth seeing.” * * * “I’ll be glad to see thim,” ses I; “I’m as anxious to see ivirything that is worth seein’ as Mr Adams was to see what Mr Hosking was goin’ to be up to in the grate election petition case that’s been goin’ on in Invercargill this wake. “I want to see all your cards,” ses he to Mr Hosking, an’ thin they both 1 ailed, as much as to say that they enjoyed the game, and were playing it for all it was worth, an’ by the same token, Mr Editor, twas a pleasure to see the way the lawyers on both sides worked for their clients there wasn’t a point missed. If Mr Hosking—wan av the jolliest ould gintlemin I have ivir lishtened to —seemed to be forgetting annything, Mr Sim was there to remind hint av it, to say nothin’ av Mr R. W. Hall an Miss Benjamin.” “That was a very shtrong bar,” ses Katie. “Bar, ses I, “ ’twas more than a bar, ’twas a barricade, so it was! It reminded me av what the shtreet Arab in London said whin his mate came out in a new suit. “How do ye like it) ses he, dancin’ up an’ down in front av him: “Its a good fit.” “A fit?’ ses the other, “why, its a hapopletic seizure—that’s wot it is.” ■» * * “An’ who was on the no-license side?” axed Katie. “Well,” ses I’ •“there was Mr Adams, av Dunedin, a fine-lukin’ chap, wan that ud be called dark-aviced in the ould cotmthry, an’ he was supported by Mr ,W. Macalister, who fired the openin’ shot in the campaign a few weeks back, an’ was as determined on hatin’ specific grounds to shtand on as Mr Strang, the merchant, is on .havin’ thim kept out av his codec. Thin there was Mr Nicholls, the secretary av the N.Z. Alliance,, kaping wan eye on Mr Adams an’ the other on the witnesses that were to be called. An’ thin there was the Rev. F. W. Isitt (that used to be preachin’ here) wid note-book an’ pincil in hand ton 11 see it all in the Rrohibitionist, I H be bound. Thin there, was the three min on the binch, an’ a policeman in the background to kape the doors shut an’ the windows open.”

“It musht have been very interestin’, Denis,’’ ses Katie. “It was all that,’.’ ses I, “sure the trial av Warren Hastings was as poor compared wid it as a tallow candle is to wan av Stewart’s lights. But a lot av paple got a grate disappointmint,” ses I. “What was that, Denis?” axed Katie. “The womin as usual,” ses I “How do ye make that out?” ses she. “Why,” ses I, “wan side published the names av a lot av woinin that they said weie undei age whin they voted, an’ everybody was anxious to get a luk at the swate young things, but up jumped Counsellor Hosking, an’ ses he, wid a merry twinkle in his eye, “My friend needn’t think that we are going to try to prove that a number of old ladies were under age,” so we losht that sensation, Katie.” * * * “Well,” ses Katie, “ye seem to have had some interesting witnesses

lin the box.” “We did that,” ses I, “but the wan that tuk the cake was me janial ould frind Mr Allen. Begorra, he ought to have been a sailor, so he ought, for the way he let the lawyers have his answers made ye think he had been used to spakin’ in a hurricane all his life through a spakin’ trumpet. Whin he spoke, ye cud almost fancy ye cud hear the wind whistlin’ through the riggin’, an’ the lawyers trated him wid grate respect, an’ let him go as soon as possible. ”- * * * I’m towld there’s been grate goin’s on at the south part av the town — that wan night a shtone was put through a window, an’ the next night . a lot av things were missin’. Well, they sint for the local policeman, an’ he axed the man av the house to name some av the articles shtolen. “Well,” ses his wife, ‘.'there’s a sil-ver-back hair brush, a beautiful silk tea-gown, a lamp shade and a frame, a lot of tinware, a rug, a box of golf balls, a pile of croquet hoops, and a bunch of bananas.” Well, whin she mentioned bananas, the conshtable drew his hand across his brow, an’ ses he, “The case is quite clear —you keep a goat.” “That’s not bad,” ses Corney, “it reminds me av - a shtory that the same policeman tells about another policeman in Glasgow that was in the kitchen bein’ fed up by Bridget wid cowld mutton an’ bread. Whin he was in full swing, the mishtress .sung out from the top av the stairs ; “Bridget, how are you getting on with the washing ?” Oh, fine, mum,” ses Bridget, “I’m filling the copper.” * * * “Well,” ses Katie, “talkin’ av fillin’ reminds me that Angus McGregor is fillin’ the posht av wan av the unemployed. The lasht time he was here he hadn’t done a hand’s turn since the New Year, an’ it luks as though he won’t do annything till the next year.” “How is that?” ses I. “Well,” ses she, “he towld Mrs McGregor he’d got a job as nightwatchman at the gas works, but that musht have been an excuse for bein’ out all night. Annyway, whin his wife said she was plascd to hear it, he towld her he’d been sacked in the mornin’. “Ye see,” ses he, “ I was telt no tae let onything oot o’ the yaird through the nicht, an’ the manager askit me in the morn if all was right through the nicht. “No,” ses I. “What was the matter?” he askit me. “Weel,” ses I, “whaun I took chairg'e there were throe o’ thac big things (pointing to the gasometer) an’ noo there’s only yin. Hoo the thieves got time big things through a narrow gate like this I canna mak’ oot. Wi’ that he telt me that if I let things gang cot like that I needna come back, an’ I dinna wonner that lie should hae telt. me. ”

“If Angus talks like that,” ses I, "he’s in a bad way—he’ll be mixing things up like the Highlander whin a steamer put in at a landing place an’ put off a wringing machine. Donald and Dougal took charge of it. Donald lukt it over am’ ses he —“Hi, Dougal, will she pe a sewing machine?” Dougall— ‘'Deed, no ; she’ll pe a laundry.” * * * That cool customer Corney (not our Corney, but the Bluff Corney) is in trouble again. I’m towld that a fresh cask av beer was procured, an’ ses the mistress —"Corney, will you go an’ get the tap out of that ginger beer cask?” "All right,” ses Corney. The mistress, bearin’ a hammerin’ noise goin’ on, had a look out av the kitchen door, an’ here was Corney hammerin’ at the tap in the water tank. “What are you doing there, Corney?” “Sure, it’s all right, mum,” ses he. “Til be able to get the tap off aisy when the water is all run out.” Apparently this was the first tap Corney had seen, but poor Corney has now got what is commonly known as the "sack.” The trouble arose at breakfasht wan mornin’ whin the maid brought in Corney’s meal. The breakfasht included a plate av mince meat. Corney looked at it an’ ses he, "What’s the manin’ av this?” "What’s the matter, Corney.” "Matter !” ses Corney, "what do ye call this ; are ye tryin’ to make a fool av me ?” "That’s mince meat, Corney.” "Oh, mince meat, do ye call it? Thin ye can mince it back to the man that chewed it lasht, an’ tell him to eat it, for I won’t eat army man’s chewin’s.” An’ now Corney is out av a job, but begorra, a man like Corney won’t be long out av an engagemint, for wherever he is there’s sure to be lots av fun. He’s got as keen a sinse av humour as the man that was helpin’ another to move some kegs av powder, whin he noticed that the other was smoking, and the following conversation ensued : "Look

here!” ses wan, “haven’t ye got any better sinse than to be smokin’ while ye’re handlin’ these kegs av powder? Don’t ye know that there was an explosion yesterday which blew up a dozen men!” “Faith, but that cud never happen here!” ses the other “Why not?” “Because tffere’s only two of us on this job.” DENIS.