The Contributor.

Southern Cross, Volume 17, Issue 16, 31 July 1909, Page 5

The Contributor.

Denis Discourses. Dear Mr Editor,—At the risk av makin’ an inimy av ye for life,. I want to ax ye this question : “Have ye seen the airship ?” If ye haven’t, ye’re a back number —a man av no account ! Until ye’ve seen the airship ye needn’t thry to get into the police, or anny other other position makin’ anny demand on yer powers av mind or body. Ye needn’t thry the bank for an overdraft, or ax a man to back a bill, or lind ye five bob to pay yer thrain fare to Orepuki—in short, very soon life won t be worth livin’ till ye’ve seen something beyant the common. 'Tis the day av uncommon things, in the hivens above an’ the earth beneath.

.An’ talkin’ av the earth an platinum an’ quartz an suchlike, a man landed in the other day wid a lump av shtone as big as his fisht, an’ shparklin’ wid mica an’ mundic an’ several other things. “Look at that, Denis,’’ ses he, “isn’t it a beauty?’’ as Mr Wragge says whin he flings a planet on the screen. “It is,” ses I. “Yes,” ses he “luk at the marks av the wather on it—it’s watherworn, ah’ that’s a good sign, anny way.” “ 'Tis the grate miner ye are,” ses I, an’ I belaved in him wid a faith that nivir faltered till I met another miner an’ showed him the shtone. “.Why,” ses he, “that’s wan av the pieces av quartz that’s been lyin’ at Brown's —we’ll call him Brown! —gate for years, an’ that’s how it came to get watherxnarked !” Well, Mr Editor, I felt mad, an’ whin Katie axed me about it later in the day, ses I—“If ye value yer life don’t mintion quartz to me agin—l'm tired av the subject—l don’t want to have annything more to do wid it —I’m like the girl in the house where the mishtress invited a Jewish rabbi to dinner. She wint into her kitchen to give some final orders. Incidentally she added to the servant, “ We are to have a Jewish rabbi for dinner today.” For a moment the maid surveyed her mistress in grim silence. Thin she spoke, wid decision, “Alb I have to say is if you have a Jewish labbi for dinner, you’ll cook it yourself.”

“Well,” ses C.orney, “I’m towld that the very lasht luk at the wonderful flyin’ machine was got in East 'lnvercargill at his own gate, about 3 a.m. on Widnesday, 28th inst,, by a w r ell-known resident av longshtandin’. Jusht as he was returnin’ home from Willie Martin’s successful Caledonian concert an’ bail. He w r as noticed by some others who were returnin’ from the function to be steadily gazin’ skywmrds in the direction av the Blue Mountains, an’ so intint was he in thryin’ to locate the exact shpot where this wonderful cruiser wsfc to land that he had no time to talk av annything on the solid planet. He was not even like the young man who had attinded a scientific lecture where the shpeaker explained to him that the world was round. He was sittin’ on the kerb-shtone w T id a bunch av keys in his hand whin a! conshtable axed him what he was doin’ sittin’ there. He x'eplied, ‘As I know the world is round I am just waiting till the keyhole of my door comes opposite. and then I will open it.’ ”

There’s wan thing- we can thank the airship epidemic for, an’ that’s the re-armearance av Angus McGregor. He came to our place on Tuesday night to go to Willie Martin’s social an concert, as he calls it. If it had not been for Willie he ses he wud not have come to town. “In the name av all that’s good, Angus,’’ ses I, “where have ye been this bit back?’’ Wid that he was like to go into a fit wid laffin’. “Weel, Denis,’’ ses he, “Mum’s the word, mind, an’ I’ll tell ye the lark I has been playin’. Ye’d see by the papers the report o’ the airship bein’ seen. Weel, Denis, I wis readin’ a report about Count Zeppilin, a German aeronaut, an’ ses I tae masel’, ' Weel, let nae German laddie beat a McGregor,’ so knowin' that Bob Murie wad no be needin’ his balloon for a while I got it oot, an' I rigged it as an airship, wi' the mast o’ Pascoe’s Garribaldi. Then I got twa new lanterns frae Mr Moir, the tinsmith, in Esk street, an' twa new billys tae tak’ tae the Longwood. I took the ship doon tae the Otatara train, got it on a truck, an’ off I went like a bird. As I cam’ up frae the jetty, little Jimmy Lloyd an' a bobby were stannin’ at the Bank corner , an’ by the look on Lloyd’s face he must hae thocht somebuddy had lifted yin o’ his cottages on, the Bluff Road. As I got tae East Invercargill

an’ saw Roope’s brewery closed ye micht hae heard me doon here siugin’— ‘ There's queer folks i’ the shaws,’ But the win’ headed 1 me,, an’ I had. tae brace up sharp, an' the firsht place I -sighted was doon at Gatlins. .' Then I crossed tae Kelso, doon tae the Longwood ; an’ oh, Denis, what a sicht men in their shirt-sleeves peggin’ oot claims. Jack Moffett an Kingsland were shovellin’ up black sand in barrowloads !

“Then I went doon tae oor auld freen at Billy Boat Park, but Mr Howard had gone to the rush, so I got a bottle o’ goat’s milk an’ went up tae Bald Hill. Then I took a fly across the Waiau tae the Hump. There were men prospectin’ everywhere.” “Well, Angus,” ses I. “ye musht have seen some quare sights up aloft.” “Ye may -weel say that, Denis,” ses he. “Turnin’ tae town tae get my headlicht trimmed for a nicht or twa, at Wallacetown I saw Joe Whales an’ Willie Gray disputin’ over sauce-bottles. Joe said Willie took mair than he should, an’ they put me in min’ o’ the darkies’ division. This is hoo it goes, Denis : Twa little darkies had gone walnuttin’ thegither, an’ aifter fillin’ their pockets an’ everything else aboot them that wad hold nuts, they started for hame. Palssin’ g cemetery, yin suggested that they should go inside an’ share the walnuts equally. To this the other agreed, an’ thereupon the twa lads climbed the fence, droppin’ twa walnuts ootsido as they were doin’ so. Pilin’- the w r alnuts. in a heap they proceeded tae mak’ a division. While they were thus engaged a negro came along the road, an’ bearin’ voices in the cemetery, stopped tae listen, an’ this is what he heard ;— ‘ AhTl take this one. AhTl take that one. AhTl take this one. AhTl take‘that one.’ The darkey’s eyes began tae bulge. ‘Poh de Lawd’s sake,’ he suddenly exclaimed, ‘de debbil an’ de Lawd’s dividin’ up de folk,’ an’ takin’ to his heels he fled doon the road. Aboot a mile awa’ a white man rushed oot an’ checked him, as he sped. ‘ Hold on, there !’ he shouted, ‘ what’s the matter ? what are you running like that for ?’ ‘ Oh, don’t stop me, boss, don’t stop me ! I must get away from heah,’ wailed the frightened negro. ‘ But what’s the matter ?’ pursued the white man. ‘ Oh, de debbil an’ de Lawd’s back in de cemetery up dar, dividin’ up de folk ! Lemme go ! Lemme go ! ’ ‘Here, that won’t do ; you wall have to come back with me and see what is going on,’ said the white man, takin’ him by the collar an’ forcin’ the darkey tae retrace his steps. When the twa reached the cemetery the voices were still goin’ on—‘ AhTl take this one” ; “AhTl take that one.” Then suddenly yin said— ‘ Now we’ll get the two • outside and then we’ll be done,’ an’ they do say,” ses Angus, “that the whiteman beat the nigger at rinnin’, an' I think Willie Gray beat Joe for the bottles.”

“Well, Angus, ye say that ye will thry an’ take another fly, an’ I hope ye’ll get a cup or a medal, an’ not forgit all about it like Mary whin the minishter said —‘ Well, Mary, have you given thought to that most vital of all subjects—the life hereafter ?’ ‘ Indeed, no, sir ; no young man has asked me yet.’ In anny case, Angus, ye might call yer airship what Pat called Mr Bromley’s motor car. ‘ls Mr Bromley in ?’ axed the caller. 'He is not, sir,’ Pat answered politely. ' Sure, he won’t be in till four o’clock —or maybe afther.’ 'Where has he gone ?’ 'He wint to ride in his interim, sir.’ ' His what !’ ‘His interim ; ’tis a new name for his mother car, I’m thinkin’. Half an hour ago, Mishter, Bromley ses to me — ' Pat,’ ses he, ‘ I’m expictm’ Mister Dobbs here some time this afthernoon, but I reckon that he won’t be afther gettin’ here yit awhile, so I’ll go to town in the interim, an' wid that he drove aff in his car.’ Well, Angus, you musht shtop yer larks, or ye will get into the hands av the police, like the ould woman that applied for the ould-age pinsion, answerin’ questions put to her. ‘Were you ever in the hahds of the police.” “Sure, sir, that’s a long time ago, whin I was a cook, an the-bobby was a sergeant then.”

“Well,” ses Bedalia, “some paple are makin’ grate fun av us because this is a no-license dishtrict, but thin the airship’s been seen at Orepuki, where they drink a little whin they’re not findin nuggets av gowld ; an’ at Wairio, where the shmell av whisky’s not altogether unknown, to say nothin’ av Dunedin.” “Sure,” ses Corney, “we ought to be thankful to the man that’s responsible for all the excitemint. He’s given a new interest to life, an’ whin wan man meets an-

j 1 other now. he nivir thinks av sayin’ j ‘ Fine day 'or‘ Do you think it’ll < lain?’ No ! His firsht question is —\ ; ‘ Seen the airship ?’ an’ if ye haven’t , ‘he drops ye like a hot potato to luk for a’ man that has. ‘ He’s got no more use for a man that hasn’t seen the airship than a pig ha's for sidepockets.” “Yes,” ses Katie, ‘‘l am beginnin’ to wonder what we’d do widout it. It’s like the ould man’s bread an’ bacon. The youthful wife av a new vicali in a counthry village was wan day catechisin’ an ould man as to his diet. * What do you have J for breakfast ?’ she demanded av j

him. ‘Bread and bacon, mum,’ was she aoswer. ‘ And for dinner ? ’ ‘Bread and bacon, mum.’ ‘Don’t you get sick of bread and bacon ?’ the lady asked. The old man thought deeply for a moment or two. ‘Well, mum,’ ses he, ‘ I think I’d be a lot sicker if I couldn't get none..”

“Well,” ses I, ‘‘New Zealand’s not the only place where they see airships. They’ve had a visitation av thim at Home, an’ wan paper was badly hoaxed. This is how it was done : —Although reliable evidence concerning the mysterious airship which has been flying over the Eastern Counties at night continues to accumulate, the mystery of its home remains unsolved. Among the most important statements regarding the airship is that supplied by Major Mayfield, of The House, Pinchbeck Road, Spalding, who writes that he has seen it near Crowland. His letter runs : —‘ While motoring home from Crowlands along the banks of Cowbit Walsh I was surprised and somewhat alarmed to hear a peculiar whirring in the air—very low down.. I thought it was a flock of the wild ducks which frequent this part of the fens. But, but this illusion was very quickly disposed, as I then saw- a strong, powerful light, and a big black oblong object just overhead, and distinctly heard men talking in a strong o-uttural tone. It passed over Cowbit Wash, and then across the shipping in the W'ella'nd in a line for Cowhirne. towards the Wash. My object in writing is to ask if some inquiry could not be made by the Government.’ Subsequent enquiries proved —1. There is No Major Mayfield at Spalding. 2. The House, Pinchbeck Road, is the workhouse. S. One of its occupants is Samuel Mayfield, a well-known character in the district, accustomed to go by the name of the General, but nobody who knows him would suggest that he was able to write the letter in question. 4. No airship has been seen in the district.”

“Wei]/' scs I, “there’s only wan thing more wonderful than the airships, an’ that’s the theories that some av the papers are buildin’. The Southland Times, wid that fine air av superiority that sits so well on it, shpeaks av lights in the sky, but the News; —nothin’ if not bowld an’ original, declares that the airship ha's some connection wid the fact that there’s a German warship in New Zealand wathers. Sure a more ridiculous suggestion nivir appeared in print. Why, if the .Germans wanted information about the Dominion does annywan think they go meandevn’ about the backblocks in that fashion, whin they can thravel up an down the counthry a's distinguished scientists or commercial thravellers, or singers or players. The thing won’t ho wid wather, but there is some sinse in what a retired British Admiral ses—that there’s thousands av ex-German soldiers servin as waiters in hotels in London an’ other cities in Britain.’’ “Well,’’ ses Katie. “I suppose the nixt thing we’ll hear av the News has cabled home to vSir Joseph Ward to sind out the British Fleet to protect the Dominion till he gits bhek again.” “I’d not put it pasht thim,” ses I, “but I musht ring aff now or I’ll be as much puzzled as the ould gintlemah in the thrain. At wan place the engine was uncoupled, an’ another wa's attached to the rear. Whin the ould gintleman found himsilf facin’ the engine, whereas a few minutes previously he had been sittin’ wid his back to it, he seemed somewhat confused. ‘ I’m fairly confused,’ he ses to his son, ‘ for when the train entered the station I sat opposite you, but since it left you a're sitting opposite me.’ ” DENIS.