TRUE COURTESY.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume V, Issue 48, 29 November 1890, Page 18

TRUE COURTESY.

It is not always in court circles or among ttie aristocracy of a land that the truest courtesy is found. In the humbler ranks of life are often seen instances of true breeding that would put to blush some of our upper five hundred. Nearly ten years ago, when one of our members was stumping the Waikato, urging his claims to be returned to Parliament, he met with an instance of the kind. Electors far and near had been invited by a Mr S to a big dinner. For days the available force of the farm had been so employed in preparing for the great occasion, which was appointed for Thursday, that the family were put on somewhat short commons. On Wednesday the candidate started oup from the house where he was staying for a morning walk. Absorbed in thought on the political situation, he was not aware how the time passed until, glancing up to the sky, he saw by the sun that it was noon. ‘ Why,’ he said to himself, ‘ I must hasten, or I shall be too late tor Mr S ’s dinner :’ He had forgotten that the dinner was appointed for the next day. Taking a short cut through the woods, he soon arrived at the farm-house. He noticed an unusual commotion in the yard, where the slaughter of turkeys was engaging the attention of a crowd of Tittle boys, and thinking he must be late, he hastened his steps. Mr and Mrs S were standing on the front porch watching the turkeys when Mr Crittenden approached. Mrs S understood the situation at once.

• Bless my heart, husband,’ she said, ‘ yonder’s Mr Crittenden I He’s coming to dinner, sure’s the world ! He thinks it’s to-morrow. What shall we do ?

‘ Invite him in.’ said the old farmer, ‘ and give him the best we have.’

At that minute the dinner-horn sounded, and the visitor reached the steps. Mr S advanced to meet him, but before he could utter a word, the visitor said : ‘ I hope I have not kept your dinner waiting, Mr S , I was walking in the woods, and did not notice the hour.’ ‘ Indeed, no,’ was the instant reply. ‘lt is only just ready. Walk in, sir ’. walk in 1 I am glad to see you under my root’ He took his visitor’s hand heartily, introduced him to his wife, and then led the way into the dining-room. In the room were already gathered his three stalwart sons, and smoking on the hoard the traditional mutton, with the potatoes and corn bread of farm-life. The homely dishe- were passed to the visitor, while the talk ran upon the coming election, and the crops. Crittenden was proverbially an absent-mindexl man, and the fact that he was the only guest did not occur to him. On the contrary, he thoroughly enjoyed his dinner, and delighted the heart of his hostess by telling her that her corn cakes tasted just as his mother's used to do when he was a boy. After dinner, and an hour’s conversation over cob pipes on the front porch, he arose to take hi- leave. As he shook hands at parting, Mr S said : • Don’t forget sir, that you are to come and dine with us to-morrow.’

‘ To-morrow !’ echoed his visitor, covered with confusion. ‘ Bless my soul, sir, I thought it was to-day, and of course you were not expecting any one to-day ! What a stupid blunder on my part !’ * Not at all, was the courteous answer. ‘lt has only given us two plea-ures instead of one, and I only wish it might occur often.’

The next day forty gentlemen were entertained at the old farm-house in princely, if semi-barbaric, style, but the visitor declared that he enjoyed none of it as he had done the simplicity of the day before. ‘ And, sir,’ he said, telling the stoiy to a friend, ‘ I have never seen anywhere in any court circle more ease, more self-possession, or more true courtesy than was shown by that old farmer and his family. They apologised for nothing ; there was never an intimation that 1 was unwelcome, or even unlooked-for, or that anything was amiss. It was the height of good-breeding. I was proud of my people.’