BOUND ABOUT GISBORNE.

Gisborne Standard and Cook County Gazette, Volume III, Issue 321, 6 July 1889, Page 3

BOUND ABOUT GISBORNE.

BT ONB WHO’S BEEN THERE.] lDsaß Mr Stanbaed,—After people had exBhausted the oil, the harbor, and the weather, Khey turned their attention to the country, Knd asked me had I been there! They Ktollad its beauty and dwelt long and Bapturousiy on its wonderful fertility shd Bverything-under the-sun producing qualiKles. Then I ruminated thuswise! oup■kdiig that, these people are true believers “bright and blessed country," do -<li«y stop in Gisborne 1 And Kg I remembered the feeling of reaigWhich is said to pervade Gisborne * people under all their troubles great or Small, and the thing was ’explained. The Gisborne people are unselfish, and though a paradise lies at their doors they would sooner Starve to death than give up the pursuit of the oil, which they eventually hope to throw Od the troubled waters of the harbor. Now, while a oneness of purpose la highly commendable in other people, I like to paddle my Own canoe, and so I thought I would go on ft voyage of discovery to see if I couldn’t find this El Dorado of a country. If it suited my fancy I was determined to throw up all my other employments, especially my connections with the great and glorious Press, marry lOrr.e farmer's plump daughter, and settle down among 119 FIC3 ARD POTATOES, freed from the toils and cares of a city Ufa, and a fruitless search after funds to meet my various creditorial engagements.!! An obliging friend lent me a steed. If King Richard had lived till now and seen that horse ho would have kept his kingdom. But you must never look a gift horse in the mouth, and this par* iieular steed fully exemplified the proverb by biting at all and sundry things which came within his reach, Hia owner said it Was only his playfulness, but I consider that playful horses 'are more dangerous than drunken men, and have more need for prohibition orders to be made against them, With the help of a brush and a curry comb, as well as a large expenditure of energy, wo managed to remove a great part of & paddock from him, and he stood as quiet as a lamb while my friend saddled him. And then I mounted, He was not a fractious horse, He did not rear and buck and generally make himself obnoxious as I have known some horses to do, He simply stood stock still and looked quite unconscious of ths responsibility he bore. I said "get up 1" but he was evidently hard of bearing, so I kicked his sides and raid—- " GET CP TOP, BRUTE ! ” This awakened him, and with a grunt he walked oil as unconoerned as if his rider had been some ordinary personage, and not a stranger in a still stranger land. And now K country. But where does it begin ? I i, every minute expecting to meet this and beautiful country, and I never to get there. Trier: was no cessation Buddy roads, but the further you went are you got. The first oasis in this desert of mud—if mud can ever be in a desert, seeing the quantity of water it contains—was the Boseland Hotel. Here I was agreeably surprised to find my old friend Samuel Mason in charge, and he won't think

I'm poking fun at him when I say that the s’ght of him partly repaid me for my disappointment. S.M.—no one ever thinks of calling him Sammy, or taking any other liberties with his name, beyond ringing the changes between Samuel Mason and S. M.— looked as genial as ever. He had hie coat off and seemed busy. S. M, is always hard at it, and I believe it is unusual for him to have his coat on, in fact I wouldn’t be at am sunrnisED to hear that be bad been born without it on. An old identity, to whom I referred the matter, bore out my views, though he drew tbs line at funerals and other ceremonious occasions. S. M. is a bard worker, and knows how to run an hotel to suit his customers. The old identity, to whom I refer, pave me some interesting information which I would have reproduced for your readers, but when he began to talk about how things were “before the flood,” I gave up the ides. I didn’t exactly tell my antediluvian friend that he was betraying innocence, but I led him to believe that I wasn’t altogether so unsdphisticated as I looked. As a specimen of the nonsense he talked, let me tell you how he Baid they repaired the roads, He said that in bad weather, when the roads were wet and muddy, a couple of men took a dray and loaded it with broken metal and soil, and into every sixth hole in the road they put three , prfour pieces of broken stone, and called the road “maintained,” I don’t know what he meant by this last term, but I was the more ready to believe his account, as all along the road I had seen patches of this broken metal lying in little lakes, But I LEFT MX FHtEXD 8. M. ftt the Corner, totally oblivious of the im» portant visitor he had, and made my way along what I believe is called the Matawhero Road. On the way to it, it doesn't patter 'Sphere, I toon drew in bight of the Royal Oak, ftnd my horse sniffed as if he would like me jphftit, butl pushed on, merely noticing sn that this part of the country is no exception to the rule, that an hotel and a blacksmith shop are ecmplemenls oi jone another. I had turned one corner and now came to another, and being in doubts which Way to turn, I trusted to the sagacity of my steed, who I felt sure would sqig on; a public poase if it were within a reasonable distance. That is a peculiarity of this animal of mine, He stops at every hotel, he makes for eyery hotel, and he never seems happy unless an hotel is in view. Only the hotelkeepers of Poverty Bay are so much above suspicion, I would seriously believe that they were in 'asgue with the horses of the district. True to this particular animal’s nature— HE TUMID TOWARDS TBS WEST,

ftnd eson brought me in view of the Bridge gate). The indispensable blaoksmlth’a chop in duplicate here, end after noticing thia fend taking a glass st—water, (blue ribbon, you know I) to wa»h down this dry fact, I passed bmosb the bridge fend into the Fipi-somelhing-or-oiher bush—and mud, I, or rather my Steed, paced along till we reached another bridge (Te Ar*!, I believe], and preeaini tjjis I Wfl ascended an elevated position, and took a Sew o’ the country. To my surprise I found just ahead of ms s newly.constructed church, which I learned was built for the Maoris, and Which far surpassed In its sige, design, end elaborate details many an Eurojeaa church which I have seen la my travels, But my horse, unfortunatoly, was mors concerned with hotels than churches, and slowly turning his head, heedless of his rider's hft’f hearted timOßßtranee, he-wads the best'of'his way hack to Gisborne—not unlike the people themselves, fond of the country, but fonder of Gisborne. Now, I suppose you want my Impressions of what I saw. Well, I think your country is a fine one, a very fine one, so far as it goes. I’ve seen worse country, and J’«C seen batter country. I've seen people who, if they had your o'uuulty, would make something out of it, and I've seen people who Would only bury themselves in such a country, My advice to you, Mr Standard, is to wait pistil I'vejseen some more of it,