After Dinner Gossip.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXVIII, Issue XVIII, 3 May 1902, Page 825

After Dinner Gossip.

More About Momnt. As one of "The Breaker's” mates I lament his dramatic exit (says a writer to the "Bulletin”). Harry Morant, though of Irish stock, was English—Devonshire bred. It was usually accepted that he was compelled to come to Australia on account of some dreadful transgression Upon the family honour. Present chronicler, who has shared fat kine and lean with the warm-hearted "Breaker,” emphatically contradicts the accepted certainty-of his guilt. Morant did leave England under peculiar circumstances, and has suffered, until his tragic death, mental pain that only strong men can face. But he was guilty of no crime; he left the land of his birth accused of a social transgression, and, rather than destroy the good name of one who had a chivalrous claim upon •him, he has destroyed himself. No one knowing "The Breaker” intimately could conceive him doing anything mean or pusillanimous. If was his boast that he never left a mate in a hole, and many times his last shilling has gone the old weary road for the sake of a pal. Morant was none too conscientious; he would “shake” fodder for his starving "Neddy”; but he was -never guilty of peculation for the purpose of lining his own hard-cased Stomach. He was physically clean, a man who “tubbed” well, winter and summer alike, and when the “shower” was not handy he would wander through the frosty mornings seeking for a waterhole or a creek. Then for a space he would thrash at the water, and come out singing “Maggie Bauder.” “The Breaker” only knew one song right through, reminiscent of Scotland, and Cupar, Fife, where he was wont to spend his vacations when a schoolboy. He had many failings, but his kindly eyes and big heart redeem him to this mate at least. May his soul rest in peace, for truly his life has been stormy.

Unexplored New Zealand. A. part of Maoriland concerning whichvery little is known is that large area of mountainous country lying west and north of Milford Sound. Sutherland, the guide who discovered the famous Sutherland Falls, still goes off on exploring expeditions, and expresses the belief that live moas may be found in the fastnesses. There are hundreds of miles of country which have scarcely been traversed by anyone, much less thoroughly explored, so there is a possibility of his expectations being realised. On the shores of Bake Te Anau, after moonlight nights, strange footprints are found in the sand—a perfectly round imprint, and apparently that of a four-footed animal. There are wild cattle thereabout, but these hoof-marks are not those of cattleIt was Sutherland who caught the Notornus Mantelli some years ago. In appearance the bird resembled a pukaki or swamp-turkey, though Considerably larger. Sutherland declares that on several occasions he has heard queer bellowings and snortings in ~the river and lake, and on one occasion he saw an animal swimming, but could not get near enough to identify. Possibly the renowned guide will one day come careering down the bridle-track with a full-sized moa close behind pecking the pattern off his pants. In the meantime the Government is spending money in making paths for the moas to practise sprinting on. Tourists to this wild No-Man’s Land will do well to take their running-shoes, and especially to practise quick starting. Everything, including Providence, is on the side of the man who can spring off his tail at a moment’s notice, for the flap of a good big moa’s foot on a Government track is sadder than man’s original sin. And the big muscles of a moa’s leg must bflve a lift like Besurrection-day.

In a Draper’s Shop, An ingenious fraud was recently perpetrated at a leading draper's shop. A fashionably-dressed lady rustled in, accompanied by a demure, respectful maid. The lady approached the counter, and made several expensive purchases. A portly purse was produced, out of which she took a generous roll of bank-notes, one of which the lady selected, and handed to the cashier. The latter took the crisp note, glanced casually at it, and then commenced to examine it very earnestly and intently. The note was for £lOO. Finally he took it to the head cashier, who, after subjecting it to a searching scrutiny, quickly sent it over to the bank. The lady was in the meantime waiting for her! and became very impatient. The clerk was most apologetic. But the idea finally dawned on her that she was an object of suspicion. She grew indignant, and at last absolutely refused to take her purchases. The bank officials had examined the note, and returned it with the assurance that it was perfectly genuine. The lady, purple With indignation, started to leave the shop, with the manager at her heels expostulating, apologising, and explaining. So desirous was he to retain the lady’s patronage that she at length rblented, and went back for her purchases. Taking out her purse, she handed the cashier a £lOO note, which he accepted without demur, politely handing her the change. She departed with the profuse thanks of the manager, who urbanely bowed her to the door. The magnificent creature and her maid have not been seen since. The second £lOO note she had given was not the original, but a “flash” one.

A Little OS pl* a Diary. The ten-year-old daughter of a portly lady seemed overjoyed when her mother promised to take her to a concert on the following’ evening* and, rushing off to her little writingdesk produced a dainty diary and made a few notes in it. “I should dearly like to see what the darling girl has confided to her diary,” said the mother to her husband when the ehild had gone to bed. What do you think? Oh, read it by all means,’' he answered. “ It’s sure to be something sweetly innocent.” So the portly lady,_ not without a few qualms of conscience, opened the newly-blotted entry, which read as follows:—‘‘Tuesday.—Am going to the concert to-morrow with mother. Wish I could leave half of her at home. It’s so uncomfortable to sit on the edge of a chair all night.”

Where the First New Zealand Gold Nugget Is Now. As the discovery of gold at Gabriel’s Gully had such a far-reaching- effect not only for Otago, but New Zealand generally, it may be of interest (writes Mr Langlands, secretary of the Otago Early Settlers’ Association, to the “Otago Daily Times”) to note how the first nugget found by Gabriel Read was disposed of. Mr and Mrs Peter Robertson and family arrived here in the Robert Henderson in 1858. Eor some years after her arrival Mrs Robertson (who has just passed away) did not take kindly to the country, and could not be induced to think or speak favourably of it. When Gabriel Read was about to start prospecting he called at Mr Robertson’s place,' agd while partaking of the hospitality so bountifully dispensed there, he told Mrs Robertson of his intention, and that he felt certain of success. Mrs Robertson scouted the idea of gold or anything else of benefit being found In such a country, and tried to dissuade him from losing time on such a hopeless search. Gabriel Read was confident, however, and on leaving promised Mrs Robertson the first nugget he picked up as proof. The discovery wire made, and the projuaiac redeemed. Mrs Robert-

son sent the nugget to Scotland, where it was made into a handsome ring and returned. Although gold in small patches had been found in several places previously, that particular nugget was the cause of extensive goldfields being opened up not only in Otago, but all over New Zealand, and that gives the ring a value far above its intrinsic one. The ring is now in the possession of Mrs Talboys, of Dunedin, one of the late Mrs Robertson’s daughters, and will no doubt be treasured as a valued and historic heirloom.

A Smart Trlalc. A leading member of the Melbourne Cricket Club has just returned from a tour through the Old Country, and one of his stories concerns a ventriloquist and a dog. The travelling artist, who was hard up and hungry, picked up a mongrel in the street, and took him into a restaurant—the same with intent to deceive. The dog was placed on one chair, the ventriloquist sat opposite, and when the latter ordered roast beef underdone, the dog said “The same for me, too, waiter.” The news that, a talking dog had just come in was carried to the proprietor, who after dinner tried hard to buy the animal, and finally succeeded. As the ventriloquist was leaving, the dog observed, “You don’t mean to say that you’ve sold me!” “Yes, I’ve sold you; bad to do it—no money.” “Then,” said the dog emphatically, “I’ll be hanged if I ever speak another word for anybody.” And he kept his vow.

At the Queensland Opal Diggings. There was one individual famous throughout the camps at Koroit, in Queensland, as the “ man who never struck anything.” He was so unlucky that no one would work with him as a mate, and day after day he picked away alone at the bottom of his shaft, with the dogged perseverance of the Anglo-Saxon in whatever clime- One day he strikes it, however—fully 200 ounces of “ pin-fire ;Crange,” worth over £2O per ounce. “ Boys, I reckon I’ll have a trip to Brisbane, now,” he remarked, that evening- as the men assembled round Silent Ted’s camp fire.

“ You should make for Sydney, too. Dave,” said Long Tom, blowing a cloud of eucalyptus smoke from his pipe. “ There’s some good ‘ tucker ’ shops there.” “ I suppose I will, Tom. Any letters going out, boys? I goes at. sunrise.” This was all that was said, and next morning, after receiving the mails of the community, Dave started off for Enlo, where he hoped to find some conveyance bound for Cunnamulla, the nearest railway terminus. Four weeks later the men were again sitting round Silent Ted’s fire (Ted was an excellent cook, hence his popularity), while “Scottie,” a man who had a remarkably vivid imagination, regaled them with tales of adventure, weird and wonderful. He was detailing how, in the Klondyke valley, he had thawed gold nuggets from the solid ice, when a strangeremerged from the clump of mulga trees, and crossed the fire-lit space towards the men. “ Night, boys,” he said, in the usual bush fashion. “ Night, stranger. Come far? Have some tucker,” answered Long Tom. making room for him round the fire. “O, mates! an’ doesn’t ye know me?” reproachfully said the visitor, as he attacked the piece of damper in professional style. “ Boys, it’s Unlucky Dave,” cried Long Tom; “ an’ he ’as went an’ got shaved.” “ Snakes, Dave, but we would never have known ye. What luck? ” chorused the men. “ Mates, Sydney is no camp for white men,” said Dave. “ Trains an’ ’lectric cars run all through it, an’ It’s full of Jews. You’ve got to camp inside a hotel, too, an’ you can git no air, an’ no one knows how to make damper.” “ But what did you get for your opal?” queried Scottie. “Oh! the stuff only fetched £2 an ounce.”

“What! ” yelled ficftltje;. “it yras worth twenty.”-

" Yon’s got taken In, Dave,” remarked Long Tom. “ I know’s it, Tom| but I was too tired to argu’ with ths Jew ’bout the price.” Nothing more was said on the subject; and after making some strong and pointed observations anent some people’s stupidity, Scottie went on with his story. Next day Dave went down his okl shaft as usual, and to the best of my knowledge is working there still.

Why She Liked "TwM’a” Sweeps. A sensible little woman, on being asked to sign a petition to abolish “Tattersall,” flatly refused to do so, and, on being asked for her reason, said: “I believe that horse racing does a lot of good, even though it doesn't intend to. I know I like my husband to go to the races and bet, because he always loses, and then he can’t get drunk, but has to keep sober in spite of himself.” And, speaking of the ignorance of women concerning racing matters, a good story is told of a Miss "Wayback,” who, on visiting Randwick for the first time, greatly admired the colours of a jockey who wore yellow jacket, blue sleeves, pink cap, and, seeing this rider going out for the second time, she tugged at the sleeve of her rustic lover, and said: “Joe, do they use the same horses for every race? It must tire them a bit if they do.” Evidently she regarded the races as a sort of merry-go-round or circus entertainment.