LOAFER IN THE STREET.

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 428, 27 October 1875, Page 3

LOAFER IN THE STREET.

(From the Press), Some time ago a party, not of the name of Johnson, here concluded he wanted a suit. He went to a clothing mart somewhere, not far away from this metropolis. He ordered a nice coffee-coloured clothment at seven pounds. He came back in due time for it. He stated then that the usual remittance had not arrived, and could he have a short credit. The clothier thought not. Thus the deal fell through temporarily. The purchaser retired, and thought it oat. In about four days a stranger entered the clothier’s establishment, and inquired if there were any “ misfits” on the premises. There were some, and among them the identical coffee-coloured suit alluded to above. The stranger bought that suit for four pounds, and two days afterwards the party, not of the name of Johnson, was seen by the clothier walking around in the coffee-coloured suit. Then that clothier made a series of epigrammatic remarks in a tongue which is very well understood by the people, and made an entry of a dead loss of three pounds in the day book. Since that time “ misfits” are not so easily picked up at his warehouse.

I came across the following advertisement recently in a New Zealand paper:—“ A young men’s breakfast meeting will be held on Sunday, October —, at 8 a.m., in ’s Hotel. Conversation will be on ‘ Why stand ye here all the day idle?’” The above almost speaks for itself. Tea meetings are not new here—festivals where tea and cakes are occasionally swallowed to repletion, and where an audience of anacondas listen to other anacondas improving the occasion ; but a breakfast meeting is, I believe, quite original here. The subject to be discussed appears scarcely as well chosen as it might have been. “ Why stand ye here all the day idle?” Why, bless my soul, if the candidates for the breakfast were anything like the audiences at our public tea festivals they wouldn’t be idle five minutes. The Supreme Court is over. The number of cases originating in people cashing cheques without knowing anything about the parties concerned were quite up to the usual mark, both in number and in point of stupidity of most of those concerned ; and there was one good bull made in a sheep case by a witness. It appears that some sheep were introduced into Court, and the witness in question was requested by his Honor to examine them. Said the witness, “ Oh, your Honor, I can see them quite well without looking at them.” That witness comes from the same county as I do. The county is in Ireland. Talking of the Judge, if not presuming too much, I should like to have his opinion

on a question recently put to me by a youth in one of our collegiate institutions. The facts are briefly as follows :—Per last telegraphic advices there seems a fair chance of our going to war with China. Things seem crooked between the British Lion and the Chinese Duck. Should a war eventuate, would the collegiate youth and his pals be entitled, on the intelligence arriving of w*r being declared, to go down and loot Ah Tin’s warehouse ? Amongst the stores purveyed by Ah Tin to a discerning public are preserved ginger and oranges, of such a succulent kind, that I feel a blind trust in the assurance of the collegiate youth that the loot would be one of the greatest successes we have seen here yet. The only question is whether the loot would be legal. It is upon this point I should like his Honor's opinion. I see by the bills (by the way, how sadly we are behind the Yankees in billing, We are good on cooing, but they are ever so much better on billing), that the worldrenowned Blondin is shortly to appear. I have seen Blondin. He can do all that his illustrated bills represent him as doing, but that is not the question I wish to urge at present. lam given to understand that the great rope traveller is going to give a performance for the Christchurch charities. I feel pleased at this, because we don’t do over much for our local charities ourselves. Monsieur Blondin will get a big house and big money and give us a fresh start. By the way,what arethe Christchurch charities? Are the poor and indigent of this metropolis to derive any benefit from this performance ? If so, I shall be about when the distribution comes off ? The Parliament is over. Hon members deserve well of their country—some of them —and, my word ! what tomes of Hansard we shall have by the time it is printed. We shall have to raise a fresh loan to pay the printing account. It’s not money thrown away, though. Posterity will learn from it. The immigration statement is the latest item. It seems satisfactory. The papers say so, and I’m quite willing to take their word for it. The promissory notes taken by the Government from immigrants amount to over £57,000 ; out of this only £5600 has been collected. In future the Government intend doing a ready money business. This is perhaps as well, judging from the figures, though I can scarcely agree with Major Atkinson’s argument, when he says that it must be very demoralising for a man to give a promissory note, and then on coming out feel that he had something hanging over him which other men had not. ‘* This,” says the bon member, “ must check his usefulness as a citizen, and injure his morality.” This is just what I fail to see. 1 know a number — a great number- of very useful citizens here whose morals are excellent, who repeatedly tell their clients that they have a heavy bill coming due on the 4th, and hope the account will be forthcoming. As Colbert, the famous financier of Louis the 14th (excuse my history), said, “No man need ever be without a bob so long as he can float a bill.” In the debate which followed the Immigration statement all was peace and harmony, but Mr Carrington thought Iceland, since the recent earthquakes and eruptions, would be a favorable place from which to obtain immigrants, I’m not aware whether Icelanders would be considered suitable immigrants or not. I never knew an Icelander. But assuming from Mr Carrington’s remarks that we must look all roads for our fresh immigrants, it would be perhaps as well if the Agent-General received special instructions to watch the foreign telegrams, and on hearing of a big flood in the Lower Nile, an earthquake at Lima, a burst up of a volcano at Kilauea, at once despatch an immigration agent to tout round for New Zealand immigrants.

A very interesting paper on the breeding and judging of shorthorn cattle was recently read before the Kaiapoi Farmers’ Club by Mr Lowthian Wilson. I’m a judge of cattle. Messrs Page, Guild, Mein, Garforth, Ferguson, and lots of others say they would sooner not take my opinion than almost any other man in Canterbury. With such a testimonial from such men, I have no hesitation in saying that I believe in Mr Wilson’s ideas of judging by points. I have read his Table of Points with much interest, and only feel inclined to demur about the last item. Here it is—- “ Style and carriage. Should walk straight with free shoulder action, holding the head high, and presenting a gay, graceful appearance. 4 points.” This, with all my innate —not to say cultivated —love for the shorthorn seems a little too poetic. With all my enthusiasm for the shorthorn, I can only call to mind one occasion when a shorthorn came up to my idea of being gay and graceful. It was in a stockyard. The shorthorn sort of impaled ray boss’s trousers against the rails, and then the shorthorn went round that yard with seven-eighths of a pair of tweed continuations on his horns, ‘* holding his head high, and presenting as gay and graceful appearance” as you or Mr Wilson himself would wish to look at. It was worth more than 4 points though. To me it was. It was what first led me to be enthusiastic about shorthorns.

I like Udolpho Wolfe’s Schnapps. His advertisements too, are very artistic, but one ought to be careful how one acts on them “ Feeble invali dbe warned in time. Thousands perish who might have been preserved by tonic treatment. Vitalize your enfeebled system and live. Know that there is health, strength, and cheerfulness in every bottle.” A friend of mine read this the other night. He went in for health, strength, and cheerfulness —i e., he drank three bottles. He gave Udolpho, he said, a fair trial. He was cheerful, I don’t deny it, oh, very cheerful, at night. Next morning he was a bit sad. He says too much Udolpho is too bracing. He means to stop at one bottle next time, and thus secure health. I’ll tell you soon how he gets on.