TITS BITS AND TWADDLE Delicately Put.

Observer, Volume XVI, Issue 960, 22 May 1897, Page 11

TITS BITS AND TWADDLE

Delicately Put.

They were discussing a mutual acquaintance at the Choral Hall concert. One lady said, ' I believe Mrs P. can read her husband like a book,' ' Yea,' said the other lady, ' and shut him up like one, too.' Just at that inatant somebody behind was seized with a fit of coughing, and they* both turned round to find it was merely Mr P. j trying to look pleasant. He had heard all. He had got home at one a.m., rather the worse for wear and in a decidedly top-heavy condition. The wife of his bosom administered the usual curtain lecture, and in the midst of it she took care to remind him . that ' You're poor because you're drunk half the time.' But he could not subscribe to that idea. ' That'sh not it, Maria,' he hiccoughed ; ' I'm only drunk half the time 'cause I'm poor.' He had just arrived at Paeroa f rom the back-blocks, and was a bit mellow. But he never winced as he said to the landlord, ' Please bring in my portmanteau.' Boniface hastened out to execute the commission. But he returned in double-quick time and snapped out, 'There's no portmanteau there ; only a flonr-bag.' ♦ That's it,' calmly replied the miner, as he held a longsleever up to the light and prepared to gulp it down ; ' it's a Waitekauri portmanteau.' A Mangamahoe man put up a record performance the other night. He was driving some ladies home along a cliff road, and, being overtaken by darkness, he got out of the trap and walked in front, striking matches in order to see the road. At one place he missed his footing and dropped a sheer 20ft, and then slipped a few more slopes, in all about 80ft, into the bed of the Wangaehu River. Withont turning a hair, he scrambled up the slope to the shelf on which he first fell, and was rescued by one of the ladies lowering down the reins, fastened to the whip. It was a Mangamahoe cow that sometime ago fell down the same cliff and bounded into the river, scrambling out unhurt. Mangamahoe is evidently determined to force itself into public notoriety. A story comes from New Plymouth of a well-known citizen there who was invited out along with his son to dinner the other night. The father set out in advance, George, his son and heir, not being quite finished with his toilet. On arrival at his host's, the elderly gentleman, apologised for his son's lateness, but was sure he would be along directly. Half-an-haur passed slowly — as it always does to a hungry man — and then it was decided to start feasting withont the young fellow. Dinner came to an end, and the missing man had not arrived. The evening passed away, and still he was non est. It was only whfii the old gentleman picked up his hat to go home that a clue to the mystery j presented itself to his mind. The tile sat on the top of his head like a button on a pumpkin. He had irrigated his throat pretty freely that night, and was prepared for some enlargement of the head, but not so much as tha€~ blooming hat suggested. George had not gone to bed when the father returned. He was wrathful at having missed the social festivity, and when reminded that he might have used the paternal hat, he bibuously remarked, ' Yes, and have all the boys laughing at me for a stray candle with the extinguisher on.' A country parson had preached a beautiful sermon. He had pointed out that the Bible provided comfort for every Sossible kind of trouble. The next day a ebt collector called upon him. ' I heard your sermon yesterday,' said he, ' and I don't exactly follow you. I can't, for instance, find any text in the Bible that will bring me any comfort.' ' "What is your trouble my friend ?' asked the parson. ' You are,' retorted the dun, with a gleam of anger in his pale blue eyes ; • you're the worst pay I know. I've called upon you hundreds of times for a settlement of my ' account and I've never been able to touch any of your oof yet. Now tell me where the Bible provides any comfort for me ' ' Oh,' said the minister, quick as lightning, ' I have a text which I think will meet the case. It is, "Be not weary in well dunning." ' The collector let out one yell and disappeared in the direction of the nearest pub. The parson Bat down and composed his next Sunday's sermon. It was entitled, ' I have fought the good fight.'

It was a smart boy in the Bereefordstreet school who defined- the word ' demagogue ' the 'other day as a ' vessel that holds beer, wine, gin,' whisky, or any other kind of intoxicating liquor/ He knew a thing or two. They were old acquaintances, and when he spied her up in the stand at Potter's on Saturday afternoon, it was not his fault that he believed her still to be single, for he had just arrived from the South. ' What an odd-looking fellow,' he said, ' that is at the end of the seat. Strikes me as about the most commonplace artist here.' ' Hush,' she said, ' that's my husband.' Just at that instant he saw a man, and with hurried apologies he decamped. They were discussing at the Dive the other day a young man who is wellknown about town: The stout old gentleman who was dining off roast pheasant remarked, ' He seems to be very friendly with everyone all of a sudden.' * Yes,' drily answered the thin man, who was loading up with stewed tripe, 'he is going to get married soon, and he wants to have as many friends as he can to invite and get presents from.' The thin man is married himself, and knows how the thing is done. The country comp. will have his little joke, let who will suffer. They had a meeting the other day in a certain country town not far south of Auckland, to decide how they would celebrate the Queen's Diamond Jubilee. And at the close of the meeting the magnate received the usual vote of thanks for presiding. But the comp. saw his chance, and it went into print as a vote of tanks. His "Worship is not yet sure that it waß not done out of malice prepense, as he has been tanked more than once or twice in the coarse of his career.

Father : You had better open one of the windows, Maud. Datjohtee (as they untwine themselves) : "Why— er— what for, father ? Father : It's entirely too close in this room 1

It is a dangerous thing to pretend to be aristocratic when you are not. At afternoon tea in one of our suburbs last week, they were discussing a certain estimable man, when a fashionable belle lisped, ' Ah 1 he's something to do with trade, isn't he? 'Yes,' said an old lady who detests | shams of every description, ' and I've often heard your late father say that it was that young man'B father who gave him his first start in life. It was driving a cart for orders, I believe ' Then the suburban damsel remarked that it was late, and she mnst be going home. There was only one investor on Lady Agnes at the Blaßterton races when she paid the thumping dividend of £144, and he was a Maori, who, when he went up to the tote to receive hia money, was surrounded by the üßual crowd of disappointed backers of ' wrong 'uns,' who filled up the time by telling each other, how nearly they came to putting a bit on Lady Agnes. One man said he had looked in vain for somebody to ' go ten bob on ' the winner ; another sadly related how, getting the straight tip at the eleventh hour, he rushed up to the machine just in time to be too late, and a third declared he knew the blanky mare was going to do the trick and was going to pop his pound on when so-and so put him off it by telling him that Lady Agnes would ' rnn stiff.' 'Twas ever thus. The only satisfied party there was the Maori, whose broad grin of delight as he pocketed his big bundle of notes lit up the entire course like a gleam of sunshine on a cloudy day.

They were arguing, about the difference between '.hope ' and ' expect ' at the dining-table of a Wanganui hotel the other day.. Suddenly, a little man recently widowed, whose vixenish wife had been a scourge to him during his life-time, spoke up. . ' I will tell you the difference,' he said ; 'I hope to' meet my wife in the next world, and yet I hardly expect to.' They understood. ' For marriage choose your opposite. 1 At first I thought that rash, Bnt 1 shall choose my opposite — I want a girl with cash. An ex-resident of Napier has set up as a debt collector in Wellington, and this is an extract from his circular soliciting custom: — 'In order to make bad marks come to the scratch, a collector will do sentinel in front of their residence, and bear the following sign on his hat: — "Collector of bad debts" Accounts collected in any part of the colony. "He who hesitates is lost." Therefore, to save such a proceeding, look up yonr books, .cull out the bad ana doubtful accounts, and forward them immediately to us. We want your business ' They say that dogs with a good bite in them are now in great request about Cook Strait. It happened only the other day on the Waikato down train. In one of the first-class compartments sett a stylish tourist "from Botorua and his even more stylish better-half. At one of the stations between Hamilton and Ngatuawahia, a Maori entered with two little Maori girls, dumped them down on the seat nearest the tourists, and then betook himself to the, smoking carriage, quite unconscious of the offended dignity of the tourists. Just as he had departed, an elderly matron entered and at once fastened her attention

npon the fashionable lady tourist and the unkempt little Maori girls. For some few mi nates she remained absolutely silent, evidently solving in her mind some great myetery. Then she suddenly addressed the lady in a tone of voice easily heard above the rattle and din of the train. ' I say, missus, is them little gurls any relations of yours ?' The lady, with rising colour, pretended not to hear. However our Irish friend was not to be denied. Again hhe yelled, ' I say, missus, is them little gurls any relation to you ?' This time the male tourist took it upon himself to expJain the situation. The other passengers smiled a bashful smile, excepting the nasty man in the corner, who, with a | far-away look in his eye commenced to whistle 'Way down upon the Suwanee River.' . He is a man of impulse, and given to a bluntness of speech which wins him many enemies. It was at a card party in Ponsonby the other night that he was greatly annoyed by his lady partner paying more attention to conversation than she did to the game. • I see no reason,' she was saying, • why a woman should not assume just as much importance in all affairs as men do.' • I see none, myself,' replied the impulsive man, with unusual gentleness, ' provided she is intellectually qualified to do so.' ' And what would you suggest as the test of her mental fitness ?' queried the lady. 'As good a test as any would be I her ability to remember "what are trumps,' he arily replied. She said no more, but thought a lot. .

There is a little rht within"? the lute at St. Mary-a Cathedral, Wellington." The administrator of the- church 'ventured to interfere in choir matters, and the condoctor, organist, and a number of other prominent members at .once .resigned. Sunday week's musical Bervices had to be carried out by the Sißtera of the Convent, and the choir is now passing through a procesß of reconstruction. A party of Wairarapa sportsmen received a rude and sndden shock to their feelings the other day somewhere in the vicinity of <3breytown. They were having a lively time with ' wild ' turkeys, and having laid low- about a dozen bean ties, they bagged and left them in a convenient spot so as to secure them on their return journey. lis the meantime, however, the owner of the property pounced upon the spoil, and not only claimed, but successfully maintained, the right of ownership. The sportißts were obliged, in order to sustain their reputations as shooting men, to buy the lot from him at his own price. They could not endure the mortification of returning home through the town with empty bags. ' Darling, 1 the local singer cried, ' I never loved but thee.' ' Then we mast part,' the maid replied, . 'No amateurs for me.' We are not exactly sure whether it was the Town Clerk, but at. any rate he was an old gentleman and wore giglamps, and was busily puffing away at a cigar as he stood outside the Opera House ou Saturday night between the acts. He was not so shortsighted but that he saw a small boy stoop for something on the asphalt. That's why he remarked, quite loudly and cheerfully, ' That's right, my little man ; see a pin and pick it-up, and some day you'll have good luck.' But he felt sorry for having spoken when that little boy provoked the laughter of the crowd of bystanders by replying. ' It's a cigar end, sir. Have yer got alight on yef?' A Wellington cabman was badly taken down with a very neat but oldfashioned trick a few afternoons ago. He j was hired by an aristocratic-looking indi7idual, and drove him around the town. The cabman was not paid, as the hirer had not change, being only possessed of a bank draft. The following day the cabman waß again engaged to drive the stranger to various places in the city. On arrival at one of the principal hotels in the city the distinguished-looking individual asked the. cabman for the loan of a shilling, as he had not cashed his bank draft. The cabman pulled some money out of his pocket, including a sovereign, which the j stranger immediately pounced upon, and said, ' This will do ; come in and have a drink.' The cabman declined, but was pressed, and went into the hotel. Some people were standing at the bar, and they were also invited to have a drink. The change was handed to the stranger, who pocketed it, and, asking the cabman to 'wait a minute,' went out 'of the bar, and forgot to retnrn. That cabman is still waiting, and the stranger is. travelling with the sovereign. | Who apes the men in all they do, And, in her thirst to pose as ' New,' Sneaks all my nicest things ? Ah, who ? My sister t Who ' borrows,' unbeknown to me, My '. bike ' and breeches to the knee, And with them plays the very D ? My sister ! Who always manages to find My smokeß (the most expensive kind), And leaves the empty box behind ? My Bister ! Who shows at pyramids an aim That puts my boasted form to shame, And will have something on the game ? My sister I She was a country belle, and it was her first visit to the sinful town. And her female relations had loaded her up with awful stories about the bad men who infested the place. She was to keep her weather eye lifting and freeze down all male advances. It so happened that when she left the train at the Queen-street station she, all unknowingly, left upon the seat her pocketbook containing her money. A fellow passenger, a horrid yoang man, noting the loss, promptly exclaimed, 'Excuse me, miss, you've dropped eomething.' ' Goodness gracious,' thought the damsel, 'they're beginning already, and I'm not yet really in the city.' So she • stiffened her neck and walked on, turning neither to the right nor to the left. The male person pursued her, renewing his cries, but Bhe turned a deaf ear to him. When she had reached the street the persistent man was at her side, and at last, evidently taking her for a lunatic or an escapee from a deaf and dumb asylum, he pressed the pocketbook in her hand and fled. Then the maiden from the country blushed and shrieked a ' thank you ' after a pair of disappearing coat-tails. She is now very strongly of opinion that the character of man has been somewhat shamefully traduced in the country.