SNEAKS.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 1120, 19 September 1871, Page 3

SNEAKS.

♦— ■ — (Fr»m the Liberal Review.') When the sneak attains mature years he is doubly dangerous because he is doubly cautious and has had larger experience. If he is engaged in business he will go about talking away the credit of that firm or person which may chance to be his particular rival. He will confidentially cay that he has heard that the firm is in difficulties, and that it is going to be wound up, or that his rival is incompetent, not altogether straightforward, or something equally unsatisfactory. He will insidiously draw a comparison between himself and his unfortunate rival of courseto the unequivocal disadvantage of thelatter. Orhewillhintthathis rival has openly triumphed because he has outwitted, or is going to outwit, the person to whom he (the sneak) is talking. In fact, he will do all he can to injuriously malign the absent wight, and he will do this in such a way that you cannot flatly contradict him, or make him, in any way, legally answerable for the slanders he has been

uttering, were you disposed to do so. He does so much by inference, expresses such an infinitude of meaning by a look, a grimace, or a sigh. If he is more than usually clever he will " damn with faint praise." In his sneaking way he will be so pitying' and yet, withal, so condemnatory. la conversation he affects the gushing style. But, with all his "gush," he tells you very little, and when you have finished a conversation of an hour's duration with him you find that you know just as much as you did before about hia affairs, and no more. You also find, however, that you have told him many things which you had no intention of doing. He has learned that you are hard-up,. and how you managed to form a business connection with a remarkably good firm. This is, of all things, the last you desired to tell him ; for you know that it is quite within the bounds of possibility that he may adopt the very course pursued by you, and succeed in working you out and himself in, which, to say the least, would be decidedly unpleasant. He has, also, drawn from you many of the semisecrets of your past life, that is to say, things which you only tell to your most truited friends. You have told that once upon a time you ware foolish and inclined to be " fast ; " that you carried on a flirtation with a pretty little barmaid, and were once caught in the act of kissing her ; and that once at aa up per given by a friend who was leaving England, you drank more champagne than you ought have done. He deftly prompts you to tell more, and, depend upon it, if he remains long enough with you, and, unless you openly quarrel with him, you will tell him more. You will tell him things for which afterwards, you will be very sorry. It is a great art is that of being " gushing " and yet telling nothing, but, at the same time, drawing from your companion all that which he has to tell. Yes, it is a very great art, and only a sneak can practise it successfully. Anyone who has ever been subjected to this " pumping " process has ample time to regret his misplaced confidence. The sneak is always, more or less, busy. Your admission, that you were hard up, is construed into a tacit declaration of insolvency, and, for the rest, you are set down as a blackleg, a rout, and a sot. So much for your simple admissions anent the barmaid and the champagne. Take good advice and beware of those individuals who learn everything about you and tell nothing about themselves in return ; who, in fact, only repay your confidence by whispering scandal about your friends. The sneak is very great at inciting working men to disaffection. He is the mover in most strikes, for by taking up the working man's cause, he may, perhaps, be appointed secretary, committee-man, or elected to fill some other equally easy and lucrative post, and that is much better than being a mere labourer. But for him half the disputes between master and men would be settled amicably. And what a lot of sneaks there are in the world. What a comparative paradise it would be could they be instantly crushed out of existence. Friends could remain friends, then, and there would not be so many disagreeable stories, reflecting on one's credit and reputation, floating about. The lovers of scandal might regret this, but then they would still find enough to talk about. But sneaks cannot be crushed out of existence. We have to tolerate them. They are careful rarely to give us absolute cause of offence. They stab us and we cannot tell who has stabbed us. What is to be done, then ? Let them, as far as possible, be avoided. If you do not feel yourself sufficiently strong) to encounter one in a verbal encounter, without committing yourself, when you see him bearing down upon you in the street, turn down a by-lane, an entry, or even pop into a pub — ; no, don't do that, for if you do he will repo/ 1 that you are a confirmed drunkard, and frequent publichouses at all hi-urs of the day. 3ut do get out of his path. He will do you no good — he may do you harm ; at any rate, he will try to do so, for it is his policy to raise himself by pulling down other people. If he mil persist in getting in your way — why, cut him dead.