JONATHAN ROBERTS.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7238, 26 October 1901, Page 7

JONATHAN ROBERTS.

tIOW HE BECAME A CGRYIQT. * SEU-COMMUNINGS. ■■"••■■•. . > FRIENDS ITT PETTICOATS. XCorrwGHT.] VIII. I liave very little more to add. Once only after my encounter' with the pig ■have Iliad to go for supplies dh a dark night. It tras very slippery, and i fell often.. -Swearing, they say, relieves your feelings, but I fe'.l so often and swor&'sc. often that I got tired of it. and eiroply picked myself up when I fell. Coming back I ha<* a gwtt long spell at the loot of the «teep _hill. I had been thinking all alpng of my situation. What a, pesition'for a niau! "lo sneak down at night for food 1 ; and keep out of sight by day! Why (had I fallen like this? Very lew know -how I caaw to commit that forgery. Let me give mv side of " how Egberts became ft convict.. Those who have given me their sympathy will then think aSittle bjtt« of me, while those who think I deserve what lihave got may lave some kinder feeling. , 1 could not get a situation anywhere. It setmed useless to apply, and I got weary and sick of looking out for one. I had spent every penny I -possessed, and a nttle more. As a last resource I went to one of thes© Loan Companies and negotiated for a- loan on. the trophies I bad won -at sports and boating. Yes! they would give me £20 on them. The interest wag esorbiUnti and a«I-4W not want it all I said I would take £10 then, and if I wanted/the balance later I could come for it. I received the £10. Part went home; part to pay some debts, the balance gradually dwindled down to nil. I tried to get a; post under the Education Bda^'fand applied for Barry's Bity School. "It rests with the committee down there. \\ c have sent the applications to them to decide 1 ; if you, think you can get them to appoint you, well and gcod !" was what I received from the Education Office. I went to "Barry's Bay— l had to (pawn my watch to <lo it— and saw five out of th* seven committaenran, some of whom I knew, personally. • "Oh, yes, if it rested -with, them they'd put me in," so I returned satisfied. . . , • , On tie strength of it I ordered a fewarticles of clothing, but why I was. not appointed I know not, and never sliall. No one- was, and " the Board advertised: again. I "was advised to apply again. No, thanks', that "sort of banging-oft wouldn't do for .me. "I must g**''*]^* other £10 and dear out," was all tiCat^l could think or say. I went to tlitfioaMi office and told .my business. All right; but com© in the* morning, please ; it is too lats- now (it was 4.30 p.m.). Not doubting that the morning would maker it all right, I gave a cheque for tie things^ l ordered, intending next morning to go to' the bank and get one of the clerks I knew to take it up; In idue time I went next day, but instead of getting the £10 I was told that they could not let me have any more. I threatened and begged, but it was of no use. I even told them I had' committed a criminal' offence and must havß it, but nothing would move the monejfcgrabbing Jewess. What to do I knew not. To borrow was the only way out of tie difficulty, and I tried those I thought most likely/ to help me; bufc not telling them ■what 'it was exactly for, I 4ld not succeed. I would just as Boon bay« committed suicide , in those days as admit such a transaction iss I bad been compelled to. negotiate '" But now! Well,' never mind, I may reach ttiat point of pride again yet. When that cheque was presented it was of course dishonoured, and I got due notice. For six Sveeks; I"^vent io various tradespeople" in Christclauich, and. bought somfe trifling article giving mv cheque, which no one ever hesitated to cash, and receiving sufficient change to take up the preceding dishonoured one. This went on nntiL the amount reached £10. I could not go away, and to stay only made matters worse. What was Ito do? At last I got a threatening letter giving jnft-a^few hours to anaks tne last cheque right. I went to a bootmaker, got Hs cheque for a small amount, and imitated it, filling the amount in for £10. I ceuld not tell bis signature from mine, but no, I would not go.- so far as toj commit forgftiy, and 4or& it up- However, I eotrid do nothing, and should foe taken up for issuing -valueless cheques unless' I got money Bomewhere: What I did then is too well known to be gone over again. It was riy fate, arid I -'had gdnij straight into it. I had fallen, and though I tried afterwards to live ifdbwn and stayed in Christchurch, it was no good. I was don& for. Bank clerks kn*w me not. AH 'the crowd" of footibaH and -boating men I knew pas*eu and' did not recognise me. There wsa-ime exception, and he puf himself out'of ilfe way to coxae awd speak to me, askediiine how I was, etc^i and when -he- left said 1 , M Jf you stay J hen» through the coming winter, mind you don the yellow and black jersey." I went to the church meetings— all very nice th*re— but there it ended. I spoka to one I had «een several times. Before I did so -the second time she. was duly informed who and what I was by one of their best members.: Just imagine my feelings the next, time she spoke to me. The first words she said ! to me were, " Have you ever been yi gaol?" Then, it all cameout how Miss „ had told her, and cautioned her not to have anything to do with me. Well, she didn't tak« the advice given her, but the caution choked ma off church meetings. I had to give up all hopes of getting any,; thing to do in town, and turned to the country. I got on at £1 per week for a month. Then I got the wool-pressing r-n Mounts Possession station, at "Mount Somers. - I had just got fairly started when the bpss of the shed thought proper to give me the sack, because the (•hearers decided to take a holiday on Boxing Day. I had no redress, so tried to' g«b on. somflwfrere else. Miles I walked, but met dozens of men coming from the places that I was going to. What to do I knew not. " More than, once in downright misery have I walked away in the evening, and didn't come back until morning, sitting under a fen«e all night, or squatting in the tussocks wherever I happened" to wander. Here I felt lonely and wretched in thd extreme. Do you wonder that men commit crime ? I had fine weather ■when I slept ©wt, but many a poor devil has ito stay out in the wet. Do you wonder at them drinking to drown their misery, though it be but for a few hours? You cant blame the employers of labour, you can blame no one. Because a man is eimpiy driven, in sheer desperation to commit a crime, he has the sympathies of those who never do wrong (?), and gets fire years. *• Why five years?" " Because it is no v t^.e first time you have done wrong!" "But I paid the penalty for that wrongdoing! "That doesn't matter, you'll get five times ths> usual sentence, whether the attempt succeeded or not." And I got it,, but wfcn't do it I fancy. The past with all its misery crowded upon me as "I sat at the foot of the bill that night. How long I sab there I couldn''t tell, -it must have been hours, for when I awok« the next morning, judgin.tr by the sun it was about eleven o'clock. I frequently got into this low despondent start*, and then seem to remember nothing that took place while it lasted. During mv exile and branded with the name of " Escaped Convict," I have heard of many strangers expressing their sympathy for me ; more than on* has done some small thing to cheer me, when they found out where I •was. Several came to see me. One bringing this paper for me to amuse myself with. I have had all, a. man oan want to make him comfortable ; so that those who have pictured '-me- wandering in misery surd- dirt can now' say Ihave oeea treated too well. I must admit, tihat I have often forgotten

I- — .■■- .: ] -$W!PQ^§B.<Js# not alw a yB. All 'the com- " forts a^nfcftpaies in the world canvfle-verj bjiot out from my memory the two (hvk 1 years that 'Lave 'just passed. Just two i years. Should this ever be put in print, j let me by that means thank those whitf hava been my ?well-wiehcre, and have- so j openly expressed their sympathy, and those who have thought I simply got my deserts, i if you want to know -wli-at causes a man to fall, put a swag upon y° uv bacl i and trySind. get work for <a fortnight, you will perhaps then think more kindly of the swagger and those who, rather than *beg day after day and be treated like a dog, would 'commit crime, or perhaps commit crime.©, order that they may get bread. And now,, jn conclusion, in order to give honor/iQ V .v?ldm'it is due. I will explain how it wag found out where I had gob to when I, .escaped the first time. At Killinchy' no- cii^'seemed to know anyt'ibki-g of Jonathan Roberts, and had never bothered their beads nbout him. Thiaf made me somewhat careless, urnd I went anywhere, even to the Public Library. Still no one gave the information. I then wrote ai letter fa a relative, .addressing it " The Hinds, Christchurch," instead of "The Hinds, Ashburton." Wiben sorting the letters in the morning Christchuroh ones were put to one side, and those for outside places sent to their destination. In looking for the final address of -Christ church letters, one -for the Hinds was aimoiug them. Thus the letter was brought prominently under nouoe, and the 'name would immediately catch, the eye. So that i'i> is quite evident that as that letter never reached it<3 destination the Post Offioa clerk tended it over to the authorises, I hope the reward lias been of much use to him, si© has my good wishes with it. The police, of course, make cut that they traced me- up from tie south, but -that is perfectly uatrae, for I never saw a soul aftei* I had crossed the Rangitata tintil I reached Killinchy, and had they followed! m«, they wouldn't have made ifiqiiifres at the Pos€ Omce : and searched all the plantations, churchyards, etc., around there, which they did do. -I must now do some cooking. Farewell New Zealand. - » There is a slight hiatus in the MS. here, ! and the story seems to be taken up after all arrangements for Jonathan's departure from these shores had been made. "In fact I might. say everything for the. time has simply to come for the arrangements to be. carried out." "Is he very glad the lime is near?" asked Kate. . " Kqvt does ke seem, to taka.it?" j - "I •don.'t know what io eay~ ii\ answer i to those questions. When I asked him he said no, he didn't feel much I'elief at tho thought, for he had no anxiet}-- where lit> | was. He would be glad to be once more j doitfg something for himself, bufc the thought of leaving the country in which he had spent all his life, and in which were ,the only relatives and friends he knew, did j not add touch/to his pleasure.. I didn't say j 'any rt'ore^for'J saw that he felt more tnan he'wis&efd 'nie, to see. But once he makes 9." lot bl'neAV 1 'friends he will forget this ■^.■<^ ■ . - J A ':" He'll do nothing of 'the kind, unless I am much" mistaken an him," was Kates reply. "He's too fond of his mother and sisters to ever forget them, to. say nothing of other friends." "What friends can he call friends now, Kate? You forget what he is, and although, I told him he had the sympathies of nearly everyone, he sadd very emphatically, "Sympathy does- a man in my position little good" A man's conscience is his greatest pomforter and -his purse his greatest friend. In New Zealand I have still friends, proved friends, 'but those proved friends are nob among those from whom I might expect most."' I' made very few mistakes wheft" I j cle&Wd*ffom'*Tin*aru as to whom I could rely upon. Only once did my judgment miscarry, and' that one "was among my aristocratic acquaintances. None of the others failed me. I have had much time for thought up here, as you anay imagine, and I have decided that there are two distinct classes of people in this world. Those who are all soul, and 'those who are all heart. But Jet that pass ; I deserve no friends, and ao not seem to want to make any. Those who We proved themselves friends will not want to see me- again, although they do wish- ms well, and I have no wish whatever to make new ones au this or any other country. I have put a barrier between .me'~and happiness in this ' life, and can now only live for something 1 besides self. I should have committed suicide long ago if thera had been the least chance of heaven after it, but I have had too much of the other place here upon earth to hurry myself off there for eternity. I may alter my tone completely when once I make a fresh . start, but at present you have no idea what an aimless sort of future , ) I appear. to have." I While H — was speaking Kate's face brightened, and her eyes lit up vri^ 1 iin eager flash as she turned to him. and said, "Are you likely to see him again?" "Yes! I have to go to Pigeon. Bay again on Friday, and I promised to 'Lake him all the latest instructions.'' "Will ytvi lot me go with you?" "Where to — Pigeon Bay?" < " No ! To see Jack." "What nonsense X'ate," said Alice rousing herself, "you don't know what you ara talking about. Fancy going u-ll that way to see a •" She was going to say -a. runaway convict, but that ■expression was too strong for even her, despite the correct--1 ness of it, and so she substituted, " a man hiding from the 'polioa. What would people say if they knew? You eurely did not mean to go ravlly?" " Indeed I did and will go if W will take me. Now, wouldn't you go, Alice, if it was W , «yen if he had committed murder?" I " That would be different ; he is my hus- , band." i "And wouldn't you go to see Jack if it were near here, and you knew where he was?' *"I might." " Well, then, why shouldn't li^

"Because he is nothing to you!" "Yes he i 1 * 1 He is a- great friend of int«€/ai?<f^&ys will be." And quiet 'demure Itate gradually got . wanner and warmer as she proceeded, but Alice knew perfectly well that if she meant <to g-o. go she would, .and, so die merely, paid, <% But you can't go to Pigeon Bay. Where would 'you .stay?" " I don't want to go to Pigeon . Bay. I should stay with Jack all (lay, and then come back here. It -\rill be .moonlight. Alice looked aghast, butwas too astonished to speak, an-d Kate continued — " I tuppose you think that would be improper, but if we all went lor a. picnic, it would be proper to pair off and yo away for hours;