AUSTRALIAN BREWERIES AND BEER.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Volume XVII, Issue 1006, 17 June 1909, Page 22

AUSTRALIAN BREWERIES AND BEER.

CONTINUED INCREASE IN OUTPUT.

According to the Bulletin No. 2, relating to production in Australia, recently issued from the office of the Commonwealth Statistician, there were no less than 46,857,134 gals, of beer and stout, of an estimated value of £2,596,858, produced by Australian breweries in the year 1907, the latest period for which returns from all the States are available. Of the gross total, Victoria produced 16, 900,336 gals., valued at £BOO,OOO, or very nearly 2,000,000 gals, more than New South Wales, the next largest producer of malt liquor. These Australian breweries, 138 in number, employed 3241 hands, including working proprietors and office staffs, and only six of the total were females. Their land and buildings were valued at £l, 601,391, with plant and machinery £791,372, and they paid to their

3241 hands £411,164 in salaries, an average of £127 per head, but this average will cover the salaries of brewers and 148 managers and overseers. In producing the beer, they consumed or used 1,582,738 bushels of malt, 2,045,750 lbs. of hops, and 275,039 cwt. of sugar, the New South Wales establishments using 42 lbs. hops and 35% bushels of malt to every 1000 gals, of beer, compared with 39 lbs. hops and 32 bushels malt used in Victoria. The total value of all materials used in the breweries of the Commonwealth is put at £916,253, and fuel consumed was valued at £40,615. So, if we add the total of wages already given (£411,164), we have a gross first factory cost of £1,368,032. Between that sum and £2,596,858, the estimated value of the product, there is £1,228,786, the added value by process of manufacture, which, of course, has to cover all interest, depreciation, selling expenses, and the like. Still, making all allowances, it would seem that the brewing industry as a whole must be very profitable.—“ Journal of Commerce.”

First Barmaid: “Miss Blank is going away.” Second Barmaid: “Is she leaving for good?” First Barmaid: “No; for better or worse.”

A waitress in a certain restaurant is well-known to the patrons of the establishment for her ready wit. An occasional customer went in the other day for a dinner. After receiving his order, the waitress handed him a newspaper to wile away the few minutes that would elapse ere dinner was served. He looked at it, and then at the waitress, and said: “ I say, miss, have you nothing comic? I like to have something funny to look at while I’m eating.” “ Well, sir,” replied the waitress readily and without the vestige of a smile, “ there’s a looking-glass straight in front of you, sir.”

Rangitikei Licensed Victuallers’ Association have donated £l6 10s towards the Taihape Hospital fund.

Scene: The bar parlour. Pipes and beer all round. An old salt saying: — “ I’ve got a riddle to ask you chaps. If a ’erring and a ’alf cost three farthings, ’ow many could you buy for sixpence?” Profound silence, and much puffing of pipes. Presently a voice from the corner:—“ I say, Bill, did you say ’errings?” “ Yes, I said ’errings.” “Drat it, I’ve been areckoning of mackerel all this 'ere time I ”

He had been worshipping the attractive barmaid in the saloon bar of the “Three-tailed Tiger” for several weeks. He came often and stayed late, much to the annoyance of both the landlord and the girl herself. He called, as usual, on the day before his departure for his summer vacation, and decided that it would be an opportune time to declare his passion. But he had lingered nearly three hours over one small Bass ere he could summon up his courage to speak. “ Miss Mollie,” he said tremulously, “ I’m going away to-morrow.” “ Are you?” she said, with the thoughtlessness of girlhood. “ Yes,” he replied. “ Are you sorry?” “ Yes, very sorry,” she murmured. “ I thought you might go away this evening.” Then.'sihe gazed at the clock wistfully, and said good night.

President Taft is a teetotaler himself, which must be a difficult role to play when he is up against a menu like the following, given him in New Orleans, recently:—“A gumbo, made of crabs, shrimps, oysters, Creole okra, etc., seasoned in the highest art known to Louisiana cooks and cooked in the way that has added laurels to Louisiana; oyster patties the size of a dessert-plate; bouillabaisse, the kind that Thackeray immortalised; roast teal duck stuffed with shredded Louisiana oranges, a salad of native lettuce with a sauce made nowhere else in the world; wines and the richer Creoles’ drink, a brandy brulot burnt in great bowls in the darkened banquet-room over native fruits, fruit sugar, and rare spices, and served with drip coffee, cigars, and a dash of old brandy, drunk from bowl glasses to secure the aroma.” Upon this “ Harper’s Weekly” discourses as follows:—' The purpose of New Orleans seems to be to make Mr. Taft forget ’possum, and the arrangements to that end seem to have been devised with thoroughness. He turns his glasses down nowadays, and perhaps that is the wherefore of the burnt brandy poured, apparently, over a fruit salad. What a man can get with a spoon off his plate doesn’t count.”