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The Contributor., Southern Cross, Volume 14, Issue 50, 16 February 1907
DENIS DISCOURSES, Dear Mr Editor,—The O’Shea family’s had a council av war over the throoperp’ monumint. “It s l arrived at the Bind,” ser Corney. “It has,” ses 1, “an’ by the same token there's been far too much bluff about the business all along. Firsht av all we had to reduce the memorial because the money didn’t conic in well enough, thin there was a dishputo about the site, thin, came a row about the material to be used, an’ how the work was to be ’done, an’ thin it was ordered from Home, an’ thin it came to the Bluff, an’ ivirybody thought a few weeks Tid see the whole thing finished, whin along comes Mr Hatch an’ knocks the whole affair down again wid his Hatchet in the shape ay a motion against puttin’ the monumint at the intersection av Tay an’ Dee streets, although a public meetin’ decided more than a year ago that it was to go there. Now Mr Hatch wants it in the Hospital grounds or the gar-d----ens.” .“Well,” ses Katie, “I nivir saw the like av it. We call ourselves the fifth city in the colony, but little Riverton, Oamaru, an’ other places have had their monumints up long ago. It makes me mad to think about it, Denis, afther the way we used to fuss over the poor chaps that were killed in the war.” 4- 4* 4“I'm wid ye there, Katie,” ses I, “an’ by the way things are go in’ I’d not be surprised to see the committee axin’ Mr Perrin to tender for the purchase a v the monumint for removal —they don’t seem to want it, Katie ; the whole business reminds me av the boar in the Western district.” “I don’t undershtand what connection there is betwano the monumint an’ a boar,” ses Corney. “You’re not over brilliant, Corney,” ses I, ‘'‘you’re not a bit like the little boy at school- Ses the teaichcr ;■ —‘Supposing in a family there are five children, and mother has only four potatoes between them. Now, she wants to give every child an equal share. What is she going to do ?■’ Silenco reigned in the room. Tvirybody calculated very hard, till a little boy stud up a u’ gave, to the surprise av the school mashter, the followin’ unexpected answer ; ‘Mash the potatoes, sir.’ ” “But lit me till ye the shtory av
the boar, an’ ye’ll sec how it resimibles the monumint that nobody seems anxious to have. Ye musht know that wan day a butcher came to a man an’ axed the loan av a rifle to shoot a boar. “What do yc want to shoot him for ?’ scs the man. ‘Oh,’ scs the butcher, ‘I want to get rid of him, and you can have him if you like to take him away. ’ .Well, the boar was sint for, an’ whin he arrived the man saw why the butcher was tired av him. He was as* big as a calf, oukl an’ vicious, an’ if our inshpector, Kenny Cameron, ■had seen him he'd have condemned him straight aff, for the hide av him .was like corrugated iron wdd flightin’ an’ disease. Well, the same evenin’ a commercial thraveller wid a keen scent for a bargain arrived, an’
was offered the pig for 10s, ‘ Why,’ ses he, ‘it must be very small for that money.’ ‘lt’s oyer a hundredweight,’ ses the owner. ‘Done,’ ses the t'hraveller, an’ he was that placed that he insisted on shoutin' for all hands. Nixt mornin' whin he saw the boar ’twas the wild man ho was, but he thought he saw, his way out av the difficulty, so he tiligraphed to the nearest-town an’ s owl d the boar to an acquaintance. Thu craytur was put in a big crate an lodged in a van full av sheepskins an’ hides’ On the way down he broke out an’ ripped into the hides, an’ whin the guard thried to put him into the crate he ripped into him too, an’ nearly frightened the life out av him. At lasht the thrain rached the town an hour late, but whin the boar’s new owner saw Ids bargain he refused to take delivery or pay the freight, an’ he was lift on the loadin’ bank. fi’he railway paple thried to collect from the man at the other ind. but widout success, an thin they threatened the latest owner av the pig, an’ he paid six min to hil]-) to cart the craythur home. -4" “Whin ho got there he lit the baste out into a paddock", an’ the firsht thing it did was to kill a pet lamb. The man’s father ran out to see what the row was about, an’ the boar chased him into an out house an’ kept him there four hours. Thin the neighbours complained, an’ the authorities ordered the boar to be deshtroyed. The owner had a happy thought. He called in a Chinaman. ‘lota,’ ses he, ‘l’ve gdt a fine boar that I want to sell.’ ‘How muchee?’ ses John. ‘Thirty shillings.’ ses the other. John inshpected the boar. ‘Me no wanteo.’ ses he. Well, they palavered away for a long time, an’ at lasht the man paid John 5s to take the boar away, an’ he did. an’ that was the lasht av -him. ’ 4- 4- 4‘■‘Wcll.” ses Corney, “I sec your drift now, dad ; ye mean that ivirybody’s fight in’ shy av the monumint ?” “It Inks like it,” ses I, “but there’s always a lot av throuble about pigs an monumints.” “Well,” ses Bedalia. “before ye lave the subject I think I cud bate your yarn, dad, wid this wan that I found in a Home paper lasht wake— Edward l Meeker, a Susses farmer, an’ his sion were ashleep, whin- a loud knockin’ woke thim. A stranger stud at the door. ‘What do you want around here at this time of night walchT everybody up ?’ axed Meeker. T’m sorry to disturb you,’ ses the.man, ‘but I was driving from up the country to market with a nice fat pig, and as I was passing’ your house he Jumped out of the waggon and ran towards your barn. I didn’t know what you might do if you saw me running out there, and, besides, I can’t catch the hog alone. Can’t you give me a hand ?’
<s> 4“Fanner Meeker called his son and the three caught the hog, after chasin’ it for half-an-hour. It weighed 300 pounds, an’ was hoisted into the waggon afther a shtrugigle. The stranger thanked the Meekers, an’ drove aff. ‘l’ll bet that hog is almost as big as our’n,’ ses the son to his father as they went upstairs to bed. In the mornin’ young Meeker ran into his father’s room. ‘Fa-
ther/ he exclaimed, ‘the hog’s gone! That follow stole our . pig - , an’ he made us help to catch it.’ ‘Well, by hen !- sos Farmer Meeker.” 4- 4*
Ye needn’t be surprised, Mr Editor, if I till ye wan av these days that I’m goin’ .to .shake the dusht av Invercargill aff mo feet, an’ 'the perfume av Puni Creek out av me nostrils, an’ the tashto av Davie Roche’s O.T. Punch out av me mouth. To till ye. the truth I’m beginnin to tale lonely. Ail the grate min seem to, be lavin’ Invercargill. Detective Mcllveney has lift us, an’ begorra it wud have brought teal's to your eyes to have lish toned to him as I did lasht Tuesday night whin he was summin' up the virtues av our local Sherlock Holmes. Av course, yc- know that Mr Todd is the author av the Alabaster Box' av Sympathy, wan av the finest rliscoorsos on the subject ivir written, an’ he poured nearly the whole av it on the devoted head av Mr Mcllveney on Tuesday night. “Was he excited ?’’ ses Katie. ‘’.Excited ! That was no name for it. He reminded me av the old man Tom . Crab be who cleaned hoots an’ ran messages at a university. Wan mornin' he came into the room av wan av the students, an’ sc-s he —‘My daughter, sir, has 1 a little, ba.by—(a ■ fine child. Twelve pounds in weight.’ ‘When was it born ? ses the student. ‘This morning.’ answered Tom. Ms it a boy or a girl ?’ ‘Do you sir.’ I forgot, in the excitement, to find out whether I was a grandfather or a grandmother !’ ’’ -4* Twas a shame.” ses Katie, “that the citizens didn’t get a presintation.“ ’Twas his own fault,” ses 1. “How do yon make that out ?” ses Ivatie. “Wily,’’ ses I, “the paple intinded to give him a beautiful gowld watch, but the regulations say- that police officers mustn’t accept gifts, an he had to go away imptyTiandod, whereas, Katie, me darlint, if he’d been a married man the public ’ud have got round the relations, as they’ve often done before, by pre.sintin' the watch to his wife.” “Well,” ses Bedalia, “Mr Mcllveney may he a clivlr man, hut he’s got to make the mosht important capture av his life yet in the person av a betther half.” “Good luck to him in his quest,” ses I. Well, jusht as I was get tin’ over the goin’ away av the detective in came the news- that Mr Macgregor was lavin' us for a thrip Home—not Angus, but Mir J amos Macgregor, av the Pipe Band, Begorra, what the town’ll do widoirt his cheery shmilo an’ imposin’ figure it bates mo to see. We’ve losht our firsht line av defnee, for the band’ll nivir seem the same widout Macgregor, an’ I don’t suppose they’ll care to turn out till ho returns aigain. “I hope ho won’t get losht in London,” ses Corney. “No fear av that,’- ses I, ‘'‘he’ll vnow his way about jushl as well as the bald Scotchman that was Inkin’ at a hair tonic in a chemist.s shop windy in the grate city. The chemist, him si If a bald man, came out an’ tapped the Scot upon the shoulder. ‘The very thing for you, my man/ ses he. ‘Let me sell you a bottle of this tonic. It is the greatest medical discovery of the age.’- Tt is
guid, eh ?’ ses the Caledonian. ‘lt’s marvellous ! I guarantee it to pren duce hair on a bald head in twenty-! four hours.’ ‘Aweel,’ ses the Scot, in his dry cautious way. ‘Aweel, ye can gie the top o’ yer heid a rub wi’ it, an’ I’ll look back the morn an’ see if ye’re tollin’ the truth.’ -• .4- 4-
The followin’ epistle comes from the Bluff, an’ shpakes tor itself : Bear Denis,—l see by yer wee bit discourses every week that ye’re aye thrang spoutin’. Ye’ll be wonnerin* what’s cam’ ower me this while back, but I’ve aye been expectin-’ tae see ye, an’ thocht 1 micht meet ye the time ye were doon wi’ the Governor, an’ I wad hae telt ye some lino wee bit tales. I canna pit sae muckle on paper as I wad like tae say, but there’s taw or three bit things I micht write aboot. Hae ye heard aboot oor wee bit bowlin’club ? Ma certes ! ye should see it ! It’s naething- muckle tae hear aboot, but it’s awfu’ tae see antics on the greed. The fowk here hae gotten some awfu’ savin’s aboot it. I canna tell ye them a’, but some o’ them are like this-
If .ye want tae see the Mayor, g-ang tac the bowlin’ green. If ye want the town clegl-g, gang tae the bowlin’ green. If ye want the toon cooncil, hae a look at the bowlin’ green.
Were ye wantin’ the dochtor. He’s maybe at the bowlin’ green. Did ye want ony spiritual advice ? The parson’s at the bowlin’ green. If ye want yer boots mended, the shoemaker will be at the bowlin’igTeen. Dkl ye want the schoolmaistcr ? He’s at the bowlin’ green. The blaofasmith, was it ? He’s at the bowlin’ green. If ye want tae see the publicans, they’ll pe at the bowlin’ green. The postmaister ? At the bowlin’ green. Maybe ye want some o’ the Harbour Board At the bowlin’ green. If j-e want the choirmaister on choir practice nichts—At the bowlin’green ye’ll find him. <s> Noo, Deniis, ye’ll no be sayin’ that we havena a bolin’ club. Man, but ony yin’s prood tae get intae the bowlin’ club, but oor wee bit green canna hand them ah An’, Denis', dinna fash yees-el’ tryin’ tae join oor club, but whin ye’re doon this way again just gte us a wee bit ca’ —only cam’ roon the back way, an’ we’ll show ye hoc tae play bowls. I maun bid ye guid bye the noo, an’ thank ye for a’ yer kind speerin:. Still yer ould freen, McSPURKLE. "Why,” sos' Katie, "‘they musht be as nnwillin’ to shtop playin’ bowls at the Bluff as the Irish soldier was to lave the hole that , ho got into whih the fight-in’ began. His commandin’ affleer came along, an’ ses he —‘Come out av that hole.’- ‘ I won’t,’ ses the soldier. ‘Ye may bo me superior afficer, but I’m the man that found this hole firsht !’ DENIS.
The Contributor., Southern Cross, Volume 14, Issue 50, 16 February 1907
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