DENIS DISCOURSES^ Dear Mr Editor, —It’s been that hot lately that I was fair bate what to write about this wake. Inshtead av discoursin’ I felt more like me ould frind Tom Hood, that wanted to jump out av his skin an’ luk at himsilf. Whin I got this far along came the poshtman, an’ sure enough he had a letther in his fisht from an ould crony in Dublin. Ye see, I’ve not written to him for a long time, an’ he shtarts aft’ by sayin’ he won’t write, again unless I reply by return posht, if not sooner, a n’ I know he’ll kape his word, for he's as determined a s the ozdd Duke av Wellington. Ye musht know, Mr Editor, that the Honourable Henry Packenham, brother av the grate duke, was Dean av St. Patrick’s, Dublin, an’ the See av Cork becomin’ vacant, the Dean wrote to the Duke ;—‘Dear Arthur, — One word from you and I am a Dishup.—Yours, etc.” In return came the characteristic reply :—‘‘Dear Henry,—Not one word if it made you the Pope.—Yours, etc., Arthur.” 4- -s>• 4- 4-;
■Now for the letther from Dublin, begori’a ’tis mesiif is wishin’ I cud go back there as quickly an’ as aisily an’ as chapely as the letther came from there. "Dear Denis,’- ses the writer, "I want ye to be sure an’ hear Mr Devlin whin ho comes to Invercargill. He’s the fine shtamp av a bhoy, an’ we’re all proud av him. But I wanted to till ye av the grate doin’s in the north av Ireland. Av coorse ye see that Colonel Saunderson, the grate leader av the Orangemin, has gone the way we’ll all have to thravel sooner or later, an’ och ! but ’tis the fight av fights they have had since over the eliction for North 'Armagh. The Independent Orangemin pul up wan Mr Crawford, an’ the other variety, the rale ouUan'outers, nominated Mr Moore, who’s a King’s Counsellor, an’ has been in Parliamint before. Well, Denis, the night before the eliction there was grate excitemint, an’ this is how wan av the papers tills the shtory—■'At a late hour a number of boys were parading Kurgan streets carrying a large board on which was inscribed : 'Vote for Moore.’- The boys were suddenly raided by a number of men, who captured the board and bore it off in triumph. The inevitable collision between Nationalists and Unionists ensued, and turmoil prevailed. Extra police were on duty, but were unable to cope with the outbreak, and reserves were called out. '•& “ 'They ignored their personal political differences, and, combining forces, made an attack on the constables. Showers of stones were rained upon the police, and amid great excitement a baton charge was made. The crowd melted away before the onslaught. Later, the attack was renewed, and the constables hard pressed, again drew their batons, some of which were applied with vigour. At intervals there were regular showers of stones. One ugly missile struck the helmet of g constable, smashing it into smithereens.
“ ‘District Inspector Mahoney and another inspector were also struck. When the poll opened there was a tremendous rush of voters, many of ’whom had been in waiting for over an hour to record their votes. Mr Moore had a battalion of motor cars while his opponent was poorly served. During the day it was found that the roads in many districts had been Jittered with broken bottles and nails, so as to put the motors out of action. Many punctures were susr tained before the trick was discovered. The roads had to be swept here and there to clear away the debris. “ ‘At the court house a large number of farmers assembled, eager to register their votes. Great interest w a s evinced in the arrival of a farmer o. over ninety. He was brought from Seymour Hill on one of Mr Moore’s motors,' and was greeted with loud cheers. Reports were received of attacks upon voters, particularly in the Derzytrasna direction, and several cars bore signs of rough treatment, _ “ ‘The following telegram was received from Garvagh ; —‘‘The County Londonderry Grand Orange Lodge send fraternal greetings to their brethren of Armagh, and call upon them in memory of the gallant Saunders on and for the cause of the Union and Protestant liberty, to give Moore a sweeping majority. No surrender,” The Nationalist vole was cast in favour of Mr Lindsay Crawford, the Independant Orange candidate.' -- 4^ ‘■‘Well, Denis,” continued me ould Irind,- -‘whin the papers were counted it was found that Mr Moore had a majority av 2795, but wid Mr Devlin an’ Mr Donovan cornin’ home wid £20,000 av colonial money in their pockets for the good av the cause, we’ll survive the loss av a seat, an’ all the more aisily, seein’ that we nivir had it.” ‘■‘Well,” ses Katie, ‘‘that was hot work.” ‘‘lt was,” ses I, “an’ for the life av me I don’t see what they want self-govornmint or Home Rule for. Sure, if they had they’d not have as much liberty as they’ve got now —they’d nivir be allowed to carry on like that. “No,” ses Corney, “I’m thinkin’ that if they get all tlxey want it’ll be like matrimony. 'Yes, mamage is indeed a lottery,’ ses Mr Brown, ‘one gets a prize, another gets a blank.' ‘Very true, dear,’ remarked Mrs Brown, ‘you got me and I got you.’ ”- “Welf,”- ses I, “Home Rule or not, I was wishing I was in Ireland yesterday aftilernoon whin I met Mr Fleming the flourmiller.” ‘‘What has he to do wid Ireland,” ses Katie, “an’ him a Scotchman?” “Sure,”- ses- I, “he's jusht back from a thrip to the Ould Counthry, and he was showin' mo the mosht illigant bit av a blackthorn shtiok that I've ivir set mo eyes on. He ses he got it at the Giant’s Causeway, an’ begori-a. he only wanted a hole in the crown av his hat, an’ a dhudeen botwane his teeth to pass for a rale son av the sod. ” <k' '■& 'Tia the plazed man I am to see the way the Athletic Union are goin’ about the business av tryin’’ to provide the public wid clean shport.
Corney ses he can’t make out how annywan cud think av not givin’ correct accounts av their performnces, an’ ses there'd have been no throuble if the runners had given as straight answers to questions as the young chap that was examined in coort as to his means. Whin he was called, this is what happened : Mr Sutton (for the plaintiff) : You ive at Higiiam Hill.—Correct. Big house ? —Fairly. Rent paid ?—Four months owing. 'Any means ?—None.^ But you earn £2 a Week ? —lt melts. Who melts it ? —The wife. (Laughter) . What do you get ?—The leavings. (Laughter). Much in that ?—Bob a week. (Renewed laughter)'. When can you pay ?—Never. Will you try ?—No use. Speak nicely to your wife.—That’s worn out. (Renewed laughter). The publichouse melts- your money, too ?—Teetotal. (Laughter). And don’t smoke —Haven’t a vice. His Honour : It sounds like horsedealing. (Loud laughter). Mr, Sutton : Well, what offer ? None. Don’t trifle,—l haven’t one. (Laughter).
This is an old 'tale.—lt is. (Laughter) . I mean you often say the- same.— You say so. And you agree ?—Why not? (Roars of laughter). Who lives out of your £2 a week? — Wife, four children, and myself. Will you pay 10s a month SE have 11 judgments. Are you paying them ? —No. (Roars of laughter). Do you intend paying them ! —lf I am pressed. (Renewed laughter). Well, I press you now.—So have others. His Honour ; Pay 6s a month. Defendant ; Thank you. (Laughter),. '■& *s’■ "O' “He was plain enough at all events,’’ ses Ivatie, “an’, that’s what I like about our -magistrate,. Mr McCarthy'. He nivir bates about the bush. If he thinks a man deserves to bo hit hard, he hits him. Luk at what he towld the young chap that used bad language in the presence av ladies. He as good as towld him he was worse than a beast, an’ thin whin the defindant explained that he’d got drink at Riverton afther ho was the worse av drink the magistrate towld the police to luk afther the publicans.’’ ‘‘‘Well,'- ses I, “The Rev. Mr Thomson ’ull be wantin' to shake hands, wid Mr McCarthy, for he’s always professin’ to be anxious to reform, the liquor trade. ” “He'll nivir do it, dad,’’ ses Corney, ‘‘its pasht refoxmin’f” “That’s a long time, me bhoy,’- ses I. “It is,’- ses Corney, ‘'‘but I’ve got the same falin’ about the drink traffic that Mrs Mulcahy had about her husband. Ses wan av her cronies : —‘An’ what makes ye luk so sad, Mrs Mulcahy ?’ 'Sure, haven’t ye heard ?’ ses the second, wid an air av surprise. ‘Me husband’s bin sint to prison for six months.’ ‘Well, well, don’t worry, me dear ; six months will soon pass ‘Sure ! An’ that’s what’s worryin’ me,’ was the reply. ’- DENIS.
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The Contributor., Southern Cross, Volume 14, Issue 46, 12 January 1907
The Contributor. Southern Cross, Volume 14, Issue 46, 12 January 1907
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