u_ 
 
 VINfH\\V 
 
 
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 ^/mi 
 
 <tfH!f
 
 CANTERBURY RHYMES. 
 
 SECOND EDITION 
 
 WITH A\ APPENDIX. 
 
 PRICE : HALF-A-CROll'N. 
 
 I1V TUli " I.YTT1 r.TOV TIMES" COMPA.SY, MUITl!]), GUil'CMSTTilt STBl.KT. 
 
 isas,
 
 JAMES DALLY 
 
 OLD AND RARE BOOK 
 
 Oatlands, Tasmania 
 Telephone Oatlands 9
 
 
 CANTERBURY RHYMES. 
 
 SECOND EDITION: 
 
 WITH NOTES AND AN APPENDIX. 
 
 EDITED BY W. P. REEVES. 
 
 CHBISTCHTTBCH : 
 
 PEISTKD BY THE " LTTTBLTOK TIStBS " COMPANY LIMITED, GLOUCEtTIiB SIBBET. 
 
 1883.
 
 Sftei 
 
 PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 AN American author, in introducing, the other clay, a new book to the P'.Mie, 
 commenced his Preface with 1he remark, that his volume had not been published 
 "" in deference to the urgent and repeated requests of the writer's enthusiastic 
 friends, who mus^ therefore be responsible," and so forth. He had written it, he 
 went on to explain, to please himself, and he published it with the hope of making 
 a little money out of it. The publishers of the present edition of the Canterbury 
 Rhymes wish they could imitate the candour and share the hopes of that author. 
 Unfortunately they can do neither the one nor the other. To say nothing of the 
 latter, it happens to be true that during the fifteen years in which the original 
 edition has been out of print, suggestions have often been made to them to print 
 another. Indeed, it is to the persuasions of a genial old identity that this volume 
 owes its existence ; and to the same gentleman's courtesy the Editor is indebted for 
 the copy of the original Rhymes used in preparing the present edition. On going 
 through the old contributions, it seemed advisable not to reproduce a few of them, 
 and nine were therefore excised. The others are reprinted unaltered, and the 
 orginal !Notes, written by the late Mr. Crosbie Ward, have also been left untouched ; 
 any additions which it has been thought necessary to make to them are carefully 
 marked by brackets, thus [ ]. 
 
 As will be seen, the old Rhymes, which, by the way, were nearly all reprints 
 from the Lyttclton Times, are signed with the initials of their authors. Considering the 
 lapse of time since their first appearance, there vroold seem now no valid reason for 
 preserving even this amount of anonymity, and the curious reader may therefore be 
 at once told the names for which the letters stand. J. E. F-G. represent James 
 Edward FitzGerald, Canterbury's first Superintendent; C. W., Crosbie Ward; 
 E. J. W., Edward Jerningham Wakefield; J., the present Dean of Christchurch ; 
 S. E., Sarah, the first wife of the Rev. John Raven; G. C., Canon Cotterill; 
 J. T. R., Dr. Rouse of Lyttelton ; W. J. S., William Jukes Steward, now 
 M.H.R. for Waimate. It may be mentioned that the preface to the first edition 
 came from the same pen to which we owe the Xotes and what is brightest and most 
 amusing in the Rhymes themselves. 
 
 Of the Appendix, it is enough to say, that more than half has been taken from 
 the Canterbury Punch of 1864-65; this was edited by Mr. Ward, and his hand may 
 be traced in several of the ballads and skits reprinted from it here. The other 
 selections have mostly been chosen from the Lyttelton Times and Canterlui-y Times, 
 while the "Lay of a Lost Spec," with which the series concludes, and which it is 
 hoped will show that Canterbury Rhymsters have not altogether lost their cunning 
 in these days, came out, as may be remembered, in the Press, last year. 
 
 2200623
 
 The Editor of this little Volume has not much to say of it by way of explanation 
 or apology. Critical readers, who find that some of the Rhymes have perhaps no 
 great amount of intrinsic poetical value, will remember that the work does not 
 profess to make its appearance on the strength of poetical merit alone. The Rhymes 
 were written in Canterbury for Canterbury readers, and their best claim to favour 
 on their own soil will be found in the old associations connected with them, and in 
 the pleasant, unpretending record they form of the amusements, quarrels, politics, 
 and progress of Provincial Canterbury. As men go down from generation to 
 generation, and 
 
 " One hands on to another the burning torch of existence," 
 
 there is something else to be handed on in the shape of such memorials as can be 
 collected of peculiar traits of each passing age. To give a fair notion of what life 
 was in Canterbury's earlier days, is not perhaps so easy as either those who lived it 
 or their successors may imagine. It differed far more from the existing order of 
 things than the prese. t is likely to do from the immediate future. The pilgrim was 
 not only quite another man from those who have followed him : he was also a 
 colonist of a stamp distinct in many respects from any other class of pioneer in 
 Australasia. He had his failings, of course ; but those who take the trouble to read 
 these Rhymes will see that he had a brighter side; will recognise what they have 
 been told that the Founders of Canterbury were English gentlemen and gentle- 
 women, in the fullest sense of those much-abused words ; and will not be ungrateful 
 to those who, though now themselves fast disappearing, have left enduring marks 
 of good work behind them.
 
 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 
 
 THIS little book, the compilation of which has been undertaken with the hope of 
 aiding in a work of charity, has no pretentionsto the title of a Book of Poetry. It is 
 merely a collection of rhymes, chiefly of a humorous character, which have been 
 written and first published in Canterbury. Almost a 11 which appeared in the earlier 
 days of the settlement are reprinted here, for the sake of the old associations which 
 attach to them. But comparatively few have been selected out of the large number 
 of newspaper verses which later years have produced. 
 
 Wherever it has been possible to ascertain the Author's uame, initials have been 
 appended to the verses, so that the reader may understand how many different 
 hands have contributed to the ' Poet's Corner" in Cantei bury, and niay be able to 
 account for the great variety in the style of composition and the subjects chosen. 
 It is not perhaps so easy to account for the disparaging language used so generally of 
 the country, its climate and its people, their rulers, their manners, and their 
 pursuits, unless we accept the solution that Canterbury is in every way so excellent 
 that evil can only be spoken of the province in pure fun, as is the case in these 
 pages. 
 
 No alterations of consequence have been made in the text from the first publi- 
 cation. A few words only have been changed, where a satirical remark has seemed 
 to pass the boundary of good humoured license; or where, for some temporary 
 purpose, the words as originally written had been altered on the first appearance in 
 the newspapers, and have now been restored.
 
 HAGS 
 
 Night Watch Song of the Charlotte Jane ... ... ... ... 1 
 
 Canterbury Emigrant 
 
 English Labourer's Response ... ... ... ... ... 4 
 
 Pilgrims and Prophets ... ... ... ... ... "> 
 
 Lines on a Recent Calamity ... ... ... ... ... 6 
 
 Christchurch Colonists' Society ... ... ... ... 7 
 
 Shagroon's Lament ... ... ... ... ... . . 8 
 
 Overseer's Lament ... ... ... ... 10 
 
 Lay of the Last Registered Dog ... ... ... ... . . 13 
 
 Proclamation of the Manners and Customs of New Zealand ... ... 16 
 
 Canterbury in September, 1853 ... ... ... ... 17 
 
 " Greece is, where the Greeks are " ... ... ... ... 17 
 
 The Avon ... ... ... ... ... ... 18 
 
 A Historical Picture ... ... ... ... 18 
 
 Battle sf Sinope ... ... ... ... ... ... 19 
 
 Tobacco ... ... ... ... ... ... 19 
 
 Charades on Unpopular Subjects- - 
 
 No. 1 Bridle Path ... ... ... ... ... 20 
 
 No. 2 Rhymester ... ... ... ... ... 21 
 
 No. 3 Heathcote ... ... ... ... ... 23 
 
 No. 4 Tariff ... ... ... ... ... 24 
 
 No. 6 Railway ... ... ... ... ... 26 
 
 No. 6 Bullocks ... ... ... ... 28 
 
 No. 7 Lady Love ... ... ... ... ... 29 
 
 No. 8 Billow ... ... ... ... ... :u 
 
 Lay of the Snmner Road ... ... ... ... ... 33 
 
 Provincial Parodies 
 
 No. 1 Railroadior ... ... ... ... 35 
 
 No. 2 The Struggle of Papanni ... ... ... ... :J 
 
 No. 3 Road Lines ... ... ... ... 38 
 
 No. 4 Town of Christchnrch ... ... ... ... 38 
 
 No. 6 Ballad of the Ancient Member ... ... ... 41 
 
 No. 6 Song of the Squatters ... ... ... ... 43 
 
 No. 7 The Sumner Road 50
 
 CONTENTS. Yli. 
 
 PAG*. 
 
 Address to the Provincial Council ... ... ... ... 5& 
 
 Where's the Engineer ... ... ... ... ... 54, 
 
 Epigram ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 55 
 
 Charade for the Times ... ... ... ... ... 56 
 
 Immigrant's Carol for Christmas ... ... ... ... 57 
 
 The Town and the Torrent ... ... ... ... 58 
 
 Ode to New Zealand ... ... ... ... ... ... 66 
 
 Album Lines; The Bazaar ... ... ... ... ... 69 
 
 Arcades Ambo ... ... .. ... ... ... 70 
 
 The First of May ... ... ... ... ... 72 
 
 Lament of Canterbury ... ... ... ... ... ... 74 
 
 The Lost Steamship ... ... ... ... ... 76 
 
 The Runaways ... ... ... ... ... ... 79 
 
 Song before Session ... ... ... ... ... 87 
 
 What does Lawyer Louis say? ... ... ... ... ... {to 
 
 Nursery Ehymes for Political Babies ... ... ... ... 92 
 
 Abridged Edition of New Zealand War ... ... ... ... 92 
 
 A Bequest on the Battlefield ... ... ... ... 92 
 
 Some of the Affecting Adventures of Poor Cock Canterbury ... ... 92 
 
 A Road Song ... ... ... ... ... ... 94 
 
 Essence of Provincial Council ... .. ... ... ... 94 
 
 Eolleston's Farewell ... ... ... ... ... 95 
 
 A Choice ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 95 
 
 The Husband's Excuse ... ... ... ... ... 97 
 
 The Cur and the Calf ... ... ... ... ... 97 
 
 Eeminiseences ... ... ... ... ... ... 99 
 
 The Last Fly of Summer ... ... ... ... loi 
 
 Constable "E" ... ... ... ... ... 102 
 
 Charlotte Godley's Well ... ... ... 104 
 
 Song of the Cab Drivers ... ... ... ... 105 
 
 Commercial Summary for England ... ... ... 107 
 
 A Leave-taking ... ... ... ... ... ... 108 
 
 The Doctors' Dilemma .. ... ... ... 112 
 
 The Charge at Parihaka ... ... ... ... 115 
 
 The Lay of a Lost Spec ... ... ... ... ... 117 
 
 Notes ... ... ... ... ... 125
 
 QHje $ifl!)t flMatch Song of the "Charlotte 
 
 jnnlS the first watch of the night, brothers, 
 _L And the strong wind rides the deep ; 
 And the cold stars shining bright, brothers, 
 Their mystic courses keep. 
 Whilst our ship her path is cleaving 
 The flashing waters through, 
 Here's a health to the land we are leaving, 
 And the land we are going to ! 
 
 First sadly bow the head, brothers, 
 
 In silence o'er the wine, 
 
 To the memory of the dead, brothers, 
 
 The fathers of our line. 
 
 Though their tombs may not receive us, 
 
 Far o'er the ocean blue, 
 
 Their spirits ne'er shall leave us 
 
 In the land we are going to. 
 
 Whilst yet sad memories move us, 
 A second cup we'll drain 
 To the manly hearts that love us 
 In our old homes o'er the main. 
 Fond arms that used to caress us, 
 Sweet smiles from eyes of blue, 
 Lips which no more may bless us, 
 In the land we are going to.
 
 But away witli sorrow now, brothers, 
 
 Fill the wine-cup to the briui ! 
 
 Here's to all who'll swear the vow, brothers, 
 
 Of this our midnight hymn : 
 
 That each man shall be a brother, 
 
 "Who has joined our gallant crew ; 
 
 That we'll stand by one another 
 
 In the land we are going to ! 
 
 again, before we part, brothers, 
 
 the deepest draught of all, 
 To the loved ones of our hearts, brothers, 
 Who reward and share our toil. 
 From husbands and from brothers, 
 All honour be their due, 
 The noble maids and mothers 
 Of the land we are going to ! 
 
 The wine is at an end, brothers ; 
 
 But ere we close our eyes, 
 
 Let a silent prayer ascend, brothers, 
 
 For our gallant enterprise. 
 
 Should our toil be all unblest, brothers, 
 
 Should ill-winds of fortune blow, 
 
 May we find God's haven of rest, brothers!, 
 
 In the land we are going to ! 
 
 J. E. F-G. 
 
 " Charlotte Jane" Nov. 2, 1850. 
 
 9Thc Cantedmrg lEmujrant. 
 
 (A new Edition of the " Irish Emigrant.") 
 
 I'M thinking of the day, Mary, 
 "When we sslo :>d side by side, 
 Poor wanderers from our native land, 
 When first you were my bride.
 
 The fern was waving tall and rank, 
 And the wind blew keen and high, 
 
 But a smile was on your lip, Mary, 
 And the love-light in your eye. 
 
 The place is greatly changed, Mary, 
 
 The tall fern waves no more, 
 And many an Old World blossom bright 
 
 Now nestles round our door. 
 Our home is snug and warm, Mary, 
 
 As any Old World home, 
 And I prize its low thatched cottage roof 
 
 More than a gilded dome. 
 
 Put a fresh log on the hearth, Mary, 
 
 And call our friends around, 
 We'll celebrate our 'coming day, 
 
 And the blessings we have found. 
 We journeyed forth in faith and hope, 
 
 From our home across the main ; 
 And now we are so happy here, 
 
 We'd not go back again. 
 
 But we'll not forget the Old World, 
 
 In boasting of the New, 
 Nor the many friends we left behind, 
 
 The friends both kind and true. 
 We'll drink prosperity to all ; 
 
 And if they love good cheer, 
 And cannot find it where they are, 
 
 Why, let them all come here ! 
 
 April, 1851.
 
 <ngltsf) ^Labourer's Response to tfjc song of tfjt 
 "Canterburjj Emigrant." 
 
 I'VE heard your lay of hope and love : 
 I like its cheery tone ; 
 And emulate the honest toil 
 
 By which your joys have grown : 
 I've toiled, with a tenacious faith, 
 
 For many a weary year, 
 But see no independence rise 
 My autumn days to cheer. 
 
 "Tis not that on your southern home 
 
 A brighter sun has smiled ; 
 Or that my mother-country's soil 
 
 Will not support her child ; 
 But when I echo back your song, 
 
 And towards New Zealand turn. 
 I feel that there they value men, 
 
 And native worth discern. 
 
 I dread lest these my children should 
 
 Those bitter feelings know 
 That from the rich man's scorn result, 
 
 Or from oppression grow ; 
 Although Old England is endeared 
 
 By many ties to me, 
 Ere they shall bite the dust I'll seek 
 
 A home beyond the sea. 
 
 And so I gather up my flowers, 
 
 Before their brightness fade:-. 
 Thank God no broken law enchains, 
 
 No conscious thought upbraids ! 
 Amid these ' low-thatched cottage roofs ' 
 
 Our future home we'll raise, 
 And by God's blessing earn respect, 
 
 And happy ' coming ' days. 
 May, 1851.
 
 Pilgrims auto Prophets. 
 
 AIR " Gaily the Troubadour. 
 
 GAILY the pilgrim harnessed his plough, 
 "When he had built up a roof o'er his head ; 
 Singing, " From Albion hither I come ; 
 
 " Land of mine ! land of mine ! grow me some bread.'* 
 
 Proudly the prophet nourished his crook, 
 
 When he had landed his sheep from the west ; 
 
 "Singing, "From Philipland hither I come ; 
 " Silly men ! silly men ! wool pays the best." 
 
 ^Quickly the prophet bred up his flock, 
 
 A s he defied dogs, scab, and catarrh ; 
 Sinking, " To Philipland back 1 shall go, 
 
 " When they no longer need 'baccy and tar." 
 
 Slowly the pilgrim toiled for his crop, 
 
 And soon he sent golden wheat to the mill ; 
 
 Singing, " For ever shall this be my shop ; 
 
 " Shepherd-man ! Shepherd-man ! go if you will ! " 
 
 Shortly the pilgrim and prophet agreed 
 
 The plough and the crook couldn't live far apart ; 
 
 Singing, " Together we'll tend and we'll till ; 
 
 " Shepherd-man ! Farmer-man ! keep a good heart ! '* 
 
 Lastly, the good men avoided a " smash," 
 Whether to shear or to reap was their aim ; 
 
 Singing, with cheers from the plains to the hills, 
 " Pilgrim ! and prophet ! be one and the same ! " 
 
 , 1851.
 
 6 
 
 Ernes on a i&eccnt Calamity. (") 
 
 NO deep funereal bell 
 No pageantry of woe 
 No plumed hearse be here to tell 
 The " grief that passeth show." 
 
 Such signs by otbers treasured, 
 
 May force the added tear ; 
 For him our mourning is not measured 
 
 By day, or month, or year. 
 
 His mem'ry need not plead 
 
 For the fame by others sought ; 
 
 For kindly was his every deed, 
 And genial every thought. 
 
 Of his home no grudger he, 
 Of hand, or heart, or mind ; 
 
 A very prodigal in sympathy 
 For the sorrows of his kind 
 
 To the near and dear, relief 
 
 Comes in guileless words and plain ; 
 For the cause of their unending grief 
 
 Is his unmeasured gain ! 
 
 But yet, methinks, beloir 
 
 Some monument there needs, 
 
 That ages yet unborn may know 
 And emulate his deeds. 
 
 Sculptured pile and dome 
 Build with what art you can 
 
 I like not these ; they come not home, 
 Nor represent the AIAX.
 
 Join then ! a work construct, 
 With GOOD for ages rife ; 
 
 Such might posterity instruct- 
 Fit symbol of his LIFE ! 
 
 September, 1851. 
 
 Cfjttstcfjutcfj Colonists' Sactetjj. 
 
 An Elaboration of the Information desired respecting the Restoration of th 
 Excavation in the Market-place, Christchurch, to its original elevation. 
 Deliberation I. 
 
 IN the Market-place at Christchurch was made an exca- 
 vation ; 
 
 The gravel taken thence being used for reparation 
 Of the Heathcote Perry-road, then in great dilapidation. 
 The Colonists' Society, desiring information, 
 Resolved on Tuesday last, after due deliberation, 
 That the Secretary do put himself into communication 
 With Mr. Grodley, resident agent of the Association, 
 And request of him to answer, without prevarication, 
 If he at present purposes to effect a restoration 
 Of the Market-place at Christchurch to its original elevation.-* 
 
 It was strongly represented then that the preservation 
 Of the people's limbs and lives from such a situation 
 As that in which they find themselves, if through precipi- 
 tation 
 
 They tumbled into, head over heels, said recited excavation, 
 Was a question which merited their first consideration. 
 That dirty roads and dark nights were sufficient botheration, 
 (When moon and stars were clouded, and no illumination 
 Appeared in neighbouring cottages to afford an intimation. 
 To the luckless traveller) without this infernal excavation.
 
 For these and other reasons, then, of which the enume- 
 ration 
 
 "Would swell to inconvenience the Secretary's communi- 
 cation, 
 
 The Colonists' Society would be glad of information 
 As to what's intended to be done about the restoration 
 Of the Market-place at Christchurch to its original elevation. 
 September, 1852. 
 
 's ILament. [*) 
 
 " The climate of New Zealand is superior to the south of France." Extract from 
 * Canterbury Settler's Letter. 
 
 AMONG the dreary mountains, far up above the gorge, 
 There lives a potent demon, ever working at his forge ; 
 A worker at the winds is he, a flatulent old buffer, 
 And he sends his manufactures down that man and beast 
 may suffer. 
 
 I've witnessed all the winds that blow, from Land's End 
 
 to Barbadoes 
 
 Typhoons, pamperos, hurricanes, eke terrible tornadoes. 
 All these but gentle zephyrs are, which pleasantly go by ye, 
 To the howling, bellowing, horrid gusts which sweep down 
 
 the Rakaia. 
 
 That little cloud now sailing down is foreman at the bellows. 
 At Mount Hutt's base he'll take his place to overlook his 
 
 fellows ; 
 There's Gust and Puff, and Shriek and Howl, and demons 
 
 without number ; 
 And they're coining now, with dusky brow, to waken 
 
 summer's slumber.
 
 They're armed with the winds of the wild west coast, 
 Which they've cooled in the mountain snow ; 
 
 And they're riding down on their steeds of dust, 
 Making dismal havoc below. 
 
 The crops which looked bright in the summer's light, 
 
 And pleasantly waved in the breeze, 
 Are wither'd and dead, the unripe grain shed, 
 
 And leafless the rocking trees. 
 
 All huddled in vain are the sheep on the plain, 
 
 Destruction is nearing them fast ; 
 And the cry of the lamb, as it bleats to its dam, 
 
 Is mingling its tones with the blast. 
 
 And the settler at morn may well look forlorn, 
 
 As he hastens in search of his flock ; 
 For lambs dead or Hying, and ewes fled or flying, 
 
 His hopes of prosperity mock. 
 
 The Prince of the Air is roused from his lair, 
 
 And howls in his bullying might ; 
 The gravel and dust are now mixed with the gust, 
 
 And the demons shriek out with delight. 
 
 The wild pigs sniff the air, and with grunts they declare 
 They'll be hanged if they stand such a gale ; 
 
 While both barrows and boars, and sows by the scores 
 Cut their sticks with the wind at their tail. 
 
 The garden my joy my leisure's employ! 
 Where are now thy flowers or thy trees ? 
 
 They are blackened and bruised and most awfully used, 
 With the cabbages, carrots, and peas. 
 
 The onions are whipp'd, the potatoes are nipp'd, 
 
 The willows have lost every leaf ; 
 The fruit trees are dead, or torn from their bed, 
 
 And the gardener is dying of grief.
 
 10 
 
 Oh ! Squatters, beware of the Powers of the Air, 
 When you come with your cattle or sheep ; 
 
 For New Zealand's a spot just loosed out of pot, 
 And the wind there is never asleep. 
 
 It comes from the South with a burst in its mouth,. 
 
 Bringing snow, sleet, or drizzling rain ; 
 Or it changes to West, and does its behest, 
 
 With a blast twice as furious again. 
 
 The vessels at sea stout and strong tho' they be, 
 
 Are totally lost to command ; 
 Their canvas is rent, their strong masts are bent. 
 
 Or they're hopelessly cast on the strand. 
 
 The best of good fellows can't stand the strong bellows, 
 
 That are ever at work on this shore ; 
 So stick where you are, it is better by far, 
 Than come here and be heard of no more. 
 
 M. P. S. 
 May, 1852. 
 
 farrsccr's Eamcnt. ("') 
 
 Adopted from Hood's "Song of the Shirt," to the circumstances of an Overs>>-r ia 
 the service of Long Clarke. 
 
 WITH breeches thread-bare and worn, 
 With jumper running to seed, 
 An overseer sat in a stringy-bark hut. 
 Smoking his favourite weed. 
 Puff! puff! puff! 
 
 " Oh ! when shall I rise from this state ? " 
 And still with a voice of dolorous pitch 
 He sang the song of his fate.
 
 11 
 
 "Eide! ride! ride! 
 
 While the cock is crowing aloof ! 
 
 And ride ride ride ; 
 
 Till the stars shine thro' the roof ! 
 
 It's oh, to be a Super 
 
 Along with some western swell, 
 
 AVhere man has never a stiver to save, 
 
 But sometimes gets a spell. 
 
 " Eide ! ride ! ride ! 
 
 Till my boots are rusty and worn ! 
 
 And ride ride ride ! 
 
 Till my breeches are tattered and torn 
 
 Plain, and gully, and range, 
 
 Range, and gully, and plain, 
 
 Till over the saddle I fall asleep, 
 
 To waken and ride again. 
 
 " Oh ! Squatters with beautiful runs ! 
 Oh ! Squatters witli fattening plains ! 
 Not feed alone are you wearing out, 
 But you're sowing rheumatic pains ! 
 Twitch ! twitch ! twitch ! 
 I feel it in all my bones, 
 Sowing at once with a double etitcli, 
 Colonial experience and groans. 
 
 " But why do I talk of rheumatics ? 
 That phantom of aching bone, 
 I hardly fear his terrible shape, 
 It seems so like my own 
 It seems so like my own, 
 Because of the spills I reap.* 
 Oh ! that runs should be so dear, 
 And overseers so cheap ! 
 
 ' Clarke' 3 horses are notorious buck-jumpers.
 
 12 
 
 "Eide! ride! ride! 
 
 My labour never flags ; 
 
 And what are its wages ? Forty a year, 
 
 And these two wretched nags. 
 
 This mutton-chop - and this damper queer 
 
 A stretcher a 'possum rug 
 
 And so, wretched all that the traveller here 
 
 But seldom shows his mug ! 
 
 " Count ! count ! count ! 
 
 The thousands of every flock. 
 
 Count count count ! 
 
 Till I've counted my master's stock ; 
 
 Ewes, and wethers, and lambs 
 
 Lambs, and wethers, and ewes, 
 
 Till the eyes are dazzled, the hurdles smashed, 
 
 And my shins are all in a bruise. 
 
 " Snip ! snip ! snip ! 
 
 When the shearing season's come, 
 
 And snip snip snip ! 
 
 But never a keg of ruin ! 
 
 Curse, and squabble, and row, 
 
 How, and squabble, and curse. 
 
 Till my eyes are blackened, my ' claret ' drawn, 
 
 As well as my private purse. 
 
 " Oh but to breathe the breath 
 Of the Royal Hotel in town ; 
 A prime Manilla in my mouth, 
 Whilst I knock my earnings down ! 
 Oh ! but for one short month, 
 To spree as I used to spree, 
 Before I knew the Super's berth, 
 In the days when I was free !
 
 13 
 
 " Oh, but for one short week ! 
 
 A respite, however brief ! 
 
 No blessed leisure for love or lush, 
 
 But only time for grief ! 
 
 A little drinking would ease my mind, 
 
 But in its secret lurk 
 
 The grog must stop, for every drop 
 
 "Would hinder station work ! " 
 
 With breeches thread-bare and worn, 
 
 With juniper running to seed, 
 
 An overseer sat in a stringy-bark hut, 
 
 Smoking his favourite weed. 
 
 Puff ! puff ! puff ! 
 
 Oh when shall I rise from this state ? 
 
 And still with a tone. like a heart-broken lark 
 
 Would that its wail would reach Long Clarke 
 
 He sang the song of his fate. 
 
 M, P. S. 
 
 January, 1853. 
 
 BHje 3Lag of the last Ecjjf 
 
 TEN BOB to his friends, dogs, horses, and men, 
 Sends growling, and takes up his very best pen 
 To describe how his health has been falling away 
 Since these horrid elections have carried the sway, 
 Before any writs had arrived from the North, 
 I could rise every morning and freely go forth, 
 Without smile from the vicar, or snarl from the mob, 
 Like a free, independent, and easy Ten Bob : 
 But no sooner had Governor Greyhound's despatch. 
 Appointed the days for each course of the match, 
 Than all former connexions were thrown to the wind]; 
 No two dogs in the country could bark in one n.iud ;
 
 14 
 
 No dog knew his master, no man knew his dog, 
 And our puppies were lost in political fog ! 
 The Superintendent's election came first ; 
 Some thought one dog best, and some thought him the worst; 
 But at length it was left to three claimants alone 
 To fight for the Government collar and bone. 
 The first was ;i dog of undoubted renown, 
 Who had long kept a watch in our waterside town ; 
 By the name on his collar his sires had seen 
 Many fights with the wild wolves in Ireland green. 
 The second, a bloodhound of Norman descent, 
 Whose forefathers once to the Holy Land went ; 
 And 'tis thought in his heart a good portion there lurks 
 Of the courage his ancestors show'd to the Turks. 
 The third, a Scotch terrier, stricken in years ; 
 " Who " some saucy dog screamed in my wondering ears, 
 " Though often in battle, yet never was wounded, 
 " And still is alive although once he was drownded !" 
 Now the two first went off, much like weasels asleep, 
 In the desert to watch over cattle and sheep ; 
 And the terrier came forward, as wise as an owl, 
 And his mongrel assembly raised up a loud howl : 
 ' See how bravely our dog wears his ribbons and collars ; 
 ' See what very nice bonea for each bully that follows ! 
 ' Cheap kennels ! cheap bones ! of short commons no danger 
 'All dogs, if they please, shall be dogs-iu-the-rnanger ! 
 ' Those other two hounds do not merit your bark ; 
 ' They arc seeking to give }-ou a bite in the dark ; 
 ' And to mock you by sending for men who wear tails, 
 ' Who curtail in small shoes their young ladies' toenails, 
 ' Can't say ' bow-wow ' in English, eat rice grown in bogs, 
 ' Which they flavour with birds' nests and fat little dogs ! 
 'If they sent for a troop of industrious fleas, 
 ' 'Twere not half such a curse as the horrid Chinese ! " 
 Away stayed the bloodhound, and back came the watch-dog. 
 Hut almost too late to outflank the old Scotch dog :
 
 15 
 
 Till at length the poor terrier was fairly outbid, 
 
 When his foe snubbed Celestials as other dogs did, 
 
 Then we underwent flattery, threats and defiance, 
 
 Unfriendly disruption, unholy alliance, 
 
 Konsensical claptrap, in sounding orations, 
 
 And unconstitutional Associations. 
 
 Every wretched dog's life was a dog's life indeed ; 
 
 For, whether of spaniel or pig-hunting breed, 
 
 He was sure to be fawned on or barked at all day ; 
 
 The cupboard was bare if he voted one way, 
 
 Since his master had threatened to give him the sack; 
 
 If he didn't he'd cold shoulder get from the pack ; 
 
 How to judge, though for judgment a regular Daniel, 
 
 Whether best one should vote with the bull-dog or spaniel ? 
 
 We changed our opinions and changed them again, 
 
 A* much like vain dogs as a vessel's dog- vane. 
 
 How it ended I really don't know and don't care, 
 
 For I soon got as cross as a sore-headed bear ; 
 
 And I grumble whenever I hear the bare name 
 
 Of the head of the poll or electoral claim. 
 
 I assure all my friends it's my dogged desire 
 
 All placards and addresses were stuffed in the fire ; 
 
 And I vote that some Governor, Beadle, or King, 
 
 Be appointed at once to dissolve the whole thing ! 
 
 ******* 
 
 Well, they tell me that not such bad clogs after all, 
 Have been chosen for each empty kennel and stall ; 
 My humour and health both begin to feel better, 
 So I'll just give the members, to finish my letter, 
 Advice which one candidate boldly defied, 
 (Although Wellington's own, as the very best guide 
 To a youthful M.P. for the house that he sate in) 
 " Know your mind ! Mind you speak it ! and never quote 
 Latin ! " 
 
 E. J. W. 
 
 September, 1853.
 
 10 
 
 proclamation 
 
 OX THE COSTUMES AND CUSTOMS OF NiW ZEALAND. 
 
 WHEKEAS I, the Governor, still have the right 
 To make laws, and give orders for every known thing; 
 And Acts are mere cobwebs while mine is the might ! 
 Now this is the will of your Deputy-King ! 
 
 The Treasurers all shall be dressed in dark grey, 
 
 With a leech on the collar, and a sponge on the wrist ; 
 
 And a gold-digger's jumper to wear on pay-day, 
 Bedizened all over with strong silver twist. 
 
 All Crown Land Commissioners henceforth shall wear 
 A rouge-et-noir coat, with dice for the buttons ; 
 
 At a thimble-rig table from Bartlemy fail- 
 Distributing runs to good owners of muttons. 
 
 Their Surveyors, jackets of fanciful hue, 
 
 Very loose, and cut out of a pretty sketch-map ; 
 
 Their tools and their boots shall be shining and new ; 
 They shall sit on a stool, near a peg for their cap. 
 
 Representative men shall wear night-caps of wool, 
 And warm flannel jackets like players at cricket, 
 
 For fear their ambition should sicken and cool, 
 
 While they fag all around me and I keep the wicket. 
 
 And if they turn rusty with nothing to do, 
 
 Since I put off their innings beyond next December, 
 
 They may play out their honours at whist or at loo ; 
 For while I am the belly who cares for a member ? 
 
 The life-nominees shall wear long-faced bell-toppers, 
 And plumes of white feathers to hide their disgrace ; 
 
 Their coats shall be turned, and their pockets be woppers,. 
 To hold solid smiles from my Majesty's face. 
 
 I myself wear chain-mail, as a sign of my reign, 
 ' The bold leader and chief of this glittering band ; 
 And the King of six Provinces still shall obtain 
 
 His throne from dear rule, and his croicns from cheap land. 
 
 Sejtexiler, 1853. E. j. \V"
 
 17 
 Canterfmtg m September, 1853. 
 
 AS when a stream, long chafing to be free 
 From narrowing banks that do its course restrain, 
 
 From rocky islet's intercepting chain, 
 And tangled over-growth and drifting tree, , 
 Forth bursts at length from dull obscurity, 
 
 And sweeps majestic through a boundless plain ; 
 
 So have I seen an infant State remain 
 Long trammel'd by obstructive policy, 
 
 Misgovernment, official prejudice ; 
 Numb'd by suspense, and chill'd by mystery. 
 
 At length free scope is giv'n. I see it rise 
 Strong, active, self-reliant. May we see, 
 
 Who watch thy course with loving, anxious eyes, 
 Thy promise ripen to maturity ! 
 
 J. 
 
 September, 1853. 
 
 " (Ererce 10, inhere tfje Creeks are." 
 
 [thought 
 "'rPIS Greece, where Greeks do dwell ! " So spake and 
 
 J_ That ancient race. The isle-embroidered sea 
 
 "Was sprinkled with their towns ; lo ! spreading free 
 One Greece in many lands. May we be taught 
 By them to love our country as we ought ! 
 
 'Tis not thy soil, England ! nor thy scenes, 
 
 Though oft on these home-wand'ring Fancy leans ; 
 Tis not alone th' historic fervour caught 
 
 From old association ; not thy marts, 
 Nor e'en thy grey cathedrals, nor thy wells 
 
 Of ancient learning, though for these our hearts 
 May fondly yearn ; true love of country tells 
 
 A better tale thy Church, thy laws, thy arts ! 
 'Tis England where an English spirit dwells. 
 
 J. 
 
 November, 1853.
 
 " Fies nobilium tu quoque fontium." HOB. 
 
 I LOVE thee, Avon ! though thy banks have known 
 No deed of note, thy wand'ring course along 
 
 No bard of Avon hath pour'd forth in song 
 Thy tuneful praise ; thy modest tide hath flown 
 
 For centuries on, unheeded and alone. 
 I love thee for thy English name, but more 
 
 Because my country in en along thy shore 
 Have made new homes. Therefore not all unknown 
 
 Henceforth thy streams shall flow. A little while 
 Shall see thy wastes grow lovely. Not in vain 
 
 Shall England's sons dwell by thee many a mile. 
 "With verdant meads and fields of waving grain 
 
 Thy rough uncultur'd banks ere long shall smile ; 
 Heav'n-pointing spires shall beautify thy plain. 
 
 J. 
 
 January, 1854. _ 
 
 &n Historical picture. 
 
 BEHOLD, O England ! from thy sea-girt throne 
 The daughter-nations gath'ring to thy feet ; 
 
 From East and West, from North and South they meet, 
 Those thou hast rear'd, and claimest for tliiue own ; 
 Bid them draw near, survey them one by one ; 
 
 See, last of all before thee trembling stoop 
 
 The youngest daughter of the circling group. 
 By filial look and close resemblance known 
 She kneels before thee and thy blessing seeks ! 
 
 Heir of thy glorious past, she craves to be 
 Heir of thy virtues, all that Hist'ry speaks 
 
 Of brave, large-hearted, noble, wise in thee, 
 Thy Truth, thy Justice, and that Light which streaks 
 
 Thy foulest page, thy native Piety, 
 
 J. 
 
 April, 1854.
 
 10 
 Sflhe Battle cf Sfnope 
 
 'Assyrios complexa sinus stat Opima Sinope." TAX,. FlACC. 
 
 TT7ELLNIGH two thousand years have sped their flight 
 VY Since the proud Roman trod beneath his feet 
 
 Thy wealth, Sinope ! thy sea bord'ring street, 
 Strew'd with barbaric spoil, confess'd the might 
 Of the world's victors. Still untamed in fight, 
 
 The Pontic hero all undaunted stood, 
 
 A rock unrnov'd amidst a whelming flood. 
 Once more Sinopo mourns a learful sight; 
 The Northern Eagle swoops, his wrath to wreak 
 
 In savage fury on his helpless prey. 
 God help thee, England, to defend the weak ! 
 
 Who groan beneath Oppression's scorching ray 
 Thy island-covert shall not vainly seek ; 
 
 The Tyrant shall not prosper in his day. 
 
 J. 
 
 May, 1854. 
 
 [NOTE. Sinope, the scene of the late sea-fight, if it may be so called, between the 
 Bussians and the Turks, fills a page in ancient history, having been taken by the 
 Roman general Lucullus, in the war withMithridates, the heroic King of Pontus, the 
 most obstinate of all the antagonists of Rome. It was taken in the year 71 B.O. 
 Sinope is also famous as the birth-place of Diogenes the Cynic. It is singular that 
 it should have retained its ancient name to the present day, when it has become 
 the theatre of an event more remarkable in itself, and more important in its 
 consequences.] 
 
 ^Tobacco. 
 
 TTP01S" his mouth may curses fall ; 
 U May it be dead to savour ; 
 His mellow fruits be cinders dry, 
 
 His wines devoid of flavour ; 
 His bread be sawdust in his jaws, 
 And may his teeth so black, oh, 
 Turn all his sweets to bitter sour 
 The wretch who chews tobacco !
 
 20 
 
 Upon his nose may curses light ; 
 
 May odours never charm it ; 
 May garden flowers and woods and bowers 
 
 Yield noxious scents to harm it ; 
 May all Arabia's spice exhale 
 
 Foul gas to make it suffer, 
 "Who makes a dusthole of his mouth 
 
 The vile tobacco-snuffer ! 
 
 May never lady press his lips, 
 
 His proffered love returning, 
 "Who rcakes a furnace of his mouth, 
 
 And keeps its chimney burning ! 
 May each true woman shun his sight, 
 
 For fear his fumes might choke her ; 
 And none but hags, who smoke themselves, 
 
 Have kisses for a smoker ! 
 
 February, 1855. 
 
 Charatits on Unpopular Subjects. ( r ) 
 No. 1. 
 
 " Here we go up, up, np." 
 
 THE morning is all sunshine, 
 The bridal guests are met ; 
 But the Father frets, the Mother fumes, 
 
 For the bridegroom comes not yet. 
 He's here, and from the saddle 
 
 AVith joyous haste he springs, 
 And on his charger's glossy neck 
 JJy first impatient flings. 
 
 The bonds that ne'er are broken 
 
 Have joined those twain in one ; 
 
 The words of blessing spoken 
 
 And from the church they're gone.
 
 21 
 
 'Oh ! blest in youth, and hope, and love, 
 
 May years fleet by as hours ; 
 And all good Powers unite to strew 
 
 Tour second with life's flowers ! 
 
 The mother gazes after 
 
 "With tears she fain would hide, 
 As lessening in her straining sight 
 
 Those two beloved ones ride. 
 I hear a plunge, a scream, a fall 
 
 And vain is human aid ; 
 Among the pitfalls of my ivhole 
 
 That bride is lowly laid. 
 
 AKSWEH. 
 
 And pray what may the riddle mean? 
 
 1 pray, kind reader, tell. 
 It hath an answer dark, I ween, 
 
 And deep as hidden well. 
 "What is it makes the cross more cross, 
 
 A.nd stirs the meek to wrath ? 
 What but the holes, and pits, and ruts 
 
 That stud our Bridle Path. 
 
 S. E. 
 
 1856. 
 
 No. 2. 
 
 " An old tale, and often told." 
 
 SIR Hugh he had passed a restless night- 
 He woke at the earliest touch of light, 
 
 One fair and frosty morning ; 
 The sun was rising all earth seemed gay ; 
 And tny first, bedecking each blade and spray, 
 Shone bright in the glorious dawning ;
 
 22 
 
 " My life," quoth lie, "is very slow, 
 I'm weary of sheep, and smoke, and sighs, 
 The sky is as blue as Ellen's eyes, 
 The road and its dangers I'll despise, 
 
 And to Christchurch I will go." 
 
 Merrily on through flax and sand, 
 Merrily over the fern-grown land, 
 
 He rode with a loosened rein ! 
 Firmly and fleetly his charger trode 
 As he neared his lady love's abode ; 
 And nor care nor stay did his heart forbode, 
 Till he came to where a Government road 
 
 Traversed the swampy plain ; 
 A moment he paused, for he oft had heard 
 How that road grew worse the more it was stirred, 
 
 And with damage and danger was strowed ; 
 But he thought of his coat so spick and span, 
 And the boots he bad blacked with his " ain richt ban','* 
 And he looked at the swamp unhappy man ! 
 
 And onward, alas ! he rode. 
 Perchance had he known that a week before 
 
 That luckless road was " mended," 
 The doubts with which his mind ran o'er 
 
 Far otherwise had ended. 
 
 But nothing knew he that wight so green 
 How manuka branches, ( 8 ) with holes between, 
 Far down in the mud had plunged been, 
 A pitfall for man and beast I ween ! 
 So on he rode towards fair Ellen's home, 
 
 And on welcome kind he reckoned, 
 When his horse gave one plunge and then stood 
 
 In despair to achieve my second. 
 
 No more do I know ; whether out he came ; 
 Or on what, or whom they laid the blame
 
 23 
 
 Of rider in tatters, and steed dead lame, 
 
 From Ellen and oats debarred ! 
 I know but that, while in the mud so soft 
 
 He bewailed his fate so hard, 
 My whole came by on a dray aloft, 
 
 And indited this charade. 
 
 S. E. 
 
 September, 1856. 
 
 No. 3. 
 
 ' Leave that wreath to wither upon the cold bank there." 
 
 T. H. BAVLRT. 
 
 WITH eager speed along the plain 
 A youth and maiden ride ; 
 Fondly on her his gaze is bent 
 
 Unheeding aught beside. 
 Unseen, far down the glorious west, 
 
 The summer sunset glows ; 
 Unnoted, to the evening breeze 
 rst its fraance throws. 
 
 He speaks at length And art thou then 
 
 Mine own for grief and glee ; 
 And wilt thou never once regret 
 
 The wealth thou leav'st for me ? 
 My second is a lowly home 
 
 For one so fair as thou ; 
 But love shall smooth thy path, and chase 
 
 Each furrow from thy brow. 
 
 They near my whole that barrier past, 
 
 Pursuit they may defy ; 
 Oh, joy ! to see its waters gleam 
 
 Beneath the star-lit sky.
 
 24 
 
 "Why weeps the bride, her perils o'er ? 
 
 Whence comes that boding sigh? 
 Alas ! upon the further shore 
 
 The punt lies high and dry ! 
 
 MORAL. 
 ADDBES8BD TO PARENTS AND GTTABDIANS. 
 
 'Tis true, you may say, 
 That for once in a way 
 
 The Ferryman's care was all right. 
 For a run -a way pair, 
 Whether here or elsewhere, 
 
 Deserve to be stopped in their flight. 
 
 But remember, I pray, 
 In this fabulous lay 
 
 I have dwelt but on what might accrue ; 
 While the plague and the loss, 
 We all know to our cost, 
 
 Are both real, important, and true. 
 
 The butcher, the baker, 
 The candlestick maker, 
 
 All find it detestable, very ; 
 For their mutton grows bad, 
 And their bread becomes sad, 
 
 While they wait at the Heathcote Ferry. 
 
 S. B. 
 
 Eeptemler, 1856. 
 
 IS*0. 4. 
 " It's as true as taxes is and nothing's truer than them." 
 
 THE nky is bright, the breeze is fair ; 
 With mainsail flowing free 
 And lifelike grace, a gallant bark 
 Is bounding o'er the sea.
 
 23 
 
 What seeks my first across that azure deep ? 
 Would he his soul in dreams of beauty steep 
 
 'Mid the green isles of glittering tropic seas ? 
 
 Or is his pennon waving in the breeze 
 'To prove that England's lion does not sleep, 
 But over English homes a watch doth keep, 
 
 Guarding her hearths ev'n in the hour of peace ? 
 Oh ! no ! he seeks a distant shore 
 
 With heart intent on gold ; 
 A long percentage in his head, 
 
 And blue shirts in his hold ! 
 
 They near the coasts of sunny France, 
 
 My second to descry : 
 An islet crowned by one dark mass 
 
 Of frowning masonry.* 
 And many a tale the captain tells 
 Of captives in its gloomy cells 
 
 Shut from the light of day ; 
 Prisoners untried their guilt unproved, 
 Torn from their homes and all they loved, 
 
 To pine their lives away. 
 The port is gained no buyers come ; 
 
 He speaks, his venture ruing. 
 " Can this be busy Lyttelton ? 
 
 What are the Customs doing? ( 9 ) 
 Why don't they ' clear' iny shirts so blue, 
 
 So fit for every station ? " 
 Alack ! two thousand cocoa-nuts 
 
 Have found them occupation ! 
 With yard-wands stretched and brows perplexed, 
 
 They seek their cubic measure, 
 To " square the circle" striving still 
 
 In most profound displeasure. 
 
 * A nautical reader may suggest the grave practical inconvenience of making the; 
 Chateau a' 11' on a voyage from Gravesend 10 Lyttelton. That was the Captain's 
 -affair.
 
 26 
 
 And " Cease," they cry, " to tempt our view 
 With fustian strong and serge of blue 
 
 We cannot dare not buy : 
 My whole ordains that by their weight, 
 And not their worth, unto the State 
 
 All things their tribute pay ; 
 And we, concealing all our ire, 
 On light things fixing our desire, 
 Must learn to ' walk in silk attire ' 
 
 From pure economy." 
 
 S. E. 
 
 September, 1856. 
 
 No. 5. 
 "Pitch thy behaviour low, thy projects high." G HERBERT. 
 
 WE left our homes with hearts elate, 
 Utopian visions dreaming ; 
 " Adieu," we cried, " to tax and rate, 
 Adieu to wrangling and debate, 
 Adieu to strife 'twixt Church and State, 
 
 And welcome hope and freedom !" 
 As brothers all we meant to live, 
 To age, and birth, and wisdom give 
 
 The honour each beseeming ; 
 And feed our woolly flocks in peace, 
 Till they grew betimes to a golden fleece, 
 
 On Union Banks bright gleaming ! 
 Alas ! alack ! the space how far 
 'Twixt things that seem and things that are, 
 
 Stern truth and the mind's bright phantom ! 
 Our beautiful church is tumbling down, ( lo ) 
 Aud over its relics we fight and frown, 
 
 In a manner far from handsome ; 
 While the road that we planned from town to town, 
 (At the cost of three miles for tea thousand poun'); 
 May be done if between whiles we're not donebrown- 
 
 lu the time of our son's sou's grandson.
 
 27 
 
 And for fleece of gold (Oh ! prince of flams) ! 
 Sure ne'er, since the time of Cromwell's Lambs, 
 
 Were sheep so contumacious ; 
 They won't stay at home they won't be shorn 
 To plague out our lives they were surely born, 
 
 Their ways are so audacious ! 
 They're always to seek when guests are met, 
 And mutton is wanted, or weather is wet ; 
 
 And, last and worst, the scab they get, 
 
 A nd we're fined by Inspectors grim ; 
 And poor "Fair Play " is called hard names, 
 Because he objects to various games 
 
 Which don't play fair by him ! 
 In short, the thing I'm doing now, 
 And which you, who read with bended brow, 
 
 Are going to do at me, 
 3fyjirst, which we do sans pause or rest, 
 Is the thing of things which we do the best 
 
 In this pattern colony. 
 
 And yet I see the time will come 
 When this, our new and distant home, 
 
 Shall be glorious, great, and free ; 
 Great in the glory of mighty sons, 
 
 Free with the one true freedom, 
 (The liberty demagogues never know, 
 
 Alas that our voters heed 'em !) 
 The freedom which gives and will ever show 
 Respect for the good and great below; 
 Nor though its own talents be but so-so 
 Deems (like them) each wiser man its foe. 
 I know that the day shall dawn at last, 
 When, petty strifes and cavils past, 
 
 We all shall work together ; 
 When New Zealand's swamps shall laugh with corn. 
 
 In her joyous summer weather ; 
 When we travellers, not as now forlorn, 
 
 la fear to lose my second,
 
 28 
 
 Shall be borne on my whole across her plains, 
 With wheels for a charger, and steam for reins, 
 
 Wherever a wish has beckoned ; 
 "When the hateful " nobbier " shall be forgot, 
 (That snare to our voters " scot and lot,") 
 And we smoke our pipes o'er a cheerful pot 
 
 Of home-brewed ale, blithe humming ! 
 So reader kind, unbend your brow, 
 And let me make my parting bow 
 
 To the tune of " A good time coming." 
 
 S. R. 
 November, 1856. 
 
 No. 6. 
 
 " Look on this picture, and on this." 
 
 I SLEPT and back to England's shore 
 My gladsome fancy roved ; 
 
 And my free feet trod her daisied sod ' 
 
 'Mid the scenes and the friends I loved ; 
 And I marvelled much at each proof of might, 
 For, so long unseen, each common sight 
 Each road, and carriage, and gas-lamp bright 
 
 Was a wonder fresh for me. 
 
 But the marvel that left me dumb-foundered quite 
 Was a genuine May Fair Exquisite, 
 With his shiny boots, and his hand so white, 
 
 And his wondrous self-elation ; 
 And his coat, (oh ! garment of little ease !), 
 So guiltless of wrinkle, line, or crease : 
 That he might have been from nose to knees 
 Done up in boards like a bungling piece 
 
 Of Colonial legislation ! 
 In sooth, this Knight of ladies gay, 
 
 This kind of carpet Bayard, 
 Was scented and curled in such a way 
 That at sight of him my thoughts would stray
 
 29 
 
 Far back to Assyria's palmy clay, 
 And my Jtrst, as described in Tennyson's lay, 
 Or " imported neat " by Layard. 
 
 Once more I dreamed, and now again 
 I stood on our Canterbury Plain ; 
 
 He stood beside ir,e there. 
 
 But oh ! how changed ; where that bright vest r" 
 That faultless coat and padded chest ? 
 
 Sad echo answers " Where? " 
 Gone is his hat so tall and trim ; 
 A wide-awake with half a brim 
 
 Conceals my second now ; 
 As broken in fortune, but stout of Jimb, 
 (For misfortune has made a man of him !) 
 He drives my whole his bread to win, 
 
 Or sometimes speeds the plough. 
 And " Oh," he cries, "that our Government 
 
 " Were like our Government laws ! 
 " For in tliem you can drive your coach and six 
 
 " With ease through every clause ; 
 " While in these my dray with its team of ten 
 
 " Is doomed to stick and pause ; 
 " Till I wish our Councillors wise were here 
 
 " To enjoy the mess they cause ; 
 "No help would I give but a loud Hear ! liear ! 
 
 "And ' laughter ' and ' much applause.' " 
 
 S. B. 
 December, 1856. 
 
 " Oh ! dear ! how shall I marrj- me ? 
 Oh ! dear ! how shall I woo ? " 
 
 WITHIN" a stately English home 
 A maiden fair I see ; 
 
 " She is bright and young, and her glory comes 
 Of an ancient ancestry ! "
 
 30 
 
 Gentle and graceful and beautiful, 
 
 In wealth and luxury nurst, 
 Her every gesture, look, and tone, 
 
 Bespeak my highborn first. 
 
 Before her bends a form I know, 
 
 Though he is greatly changed 
 Since from his far New Zealand home 
 
 His wandering steps have ranged ; 
 For he is drest in Stultz's best, 
 
 As you may plainly see, 
 And, instead of fustian, broad-cloth fine 
 
 Arrays his bended knee. 
 
 But the face is the same, and 'tis one I ween 
 
 A maiden may love to see, 
 AVith its bright dark eye and chestnut curls 
 
 And smile so frank and free ; 
 Then why doth my first contract her brow 
 
 As thus he tells my second ; 
 As she would say " Sir guest, I trow, 
 If you thought in me to find a " vrow" 
 
 Without your host you reckoned." 
 
 " Oh dearest, fairest, best of all, 
 
 Say, wilt thou fly with me 
 Across two oceans' silvery foam, 
 
 My bride and my pride to be ? 
 I know that your voice is clear and sweet 
 
 As the swan's last fabled lay, 
 And your step in the dance as light and fleet 
 
 As Ellsler or Duvernay. 
 I know you can draw with ease and skill 
 
 Men, cattle, flowers, and fences, 
 And ' bosky bourne ' and pebbly rill, 
 
 And likewise inferences.
 
 31 
 
 But can you ' call the cattle home,' 
 And dance the dance they'll lead you ? 
 
 And can your skill ' fine-draw ' my coat 
 If rents perchance should need you ? 
 
 Oh, can you china leave for delf ? 
 Or what I own is harder 
 
 Say, can you 'lady's maid ' yourself ? 
 
 And, while you hook your dress behind, 
 
 Still keep an eye before, and mind 
 The pantry and the larder ? 
 
 <( And can you roast, and boil, and bake, 
 And dainty bread with soda make ? 
 
 For, though I myself don't pamper, 
 Still if, whene'er the yeast turns sour, 
 Tour bonny brow begins to lower, 
 
 My Fair will prove a damper. 
 But, if these trifles you can learn, 
 Likewise to starch, and iron, and churn, 
 
 Nor fear to cross the sea ! 
 Then, dearest, fairest, best of all, 
 
 Then mays't thou fly with me, 
 And reign my Queen in kitchen and hall, 
 
 My whole for aye to be ! " 
 
 S. E. 
 
 December, 1856. 
 
 No. 8. 
 
 " While sages prate and courts debate 
 
 The same stars set and shine ; 
 And the world as it rolled through Twenty Eight 
 
 Will roll through Twenty >'ine." P'BAED. 
 
 TIHE Council is summoned, the Speaker is th3re, 
 And our law-givers wise are met 
 With potent, grave, and reverend air, 
 In expectation set.
 
 32 
 
 Oh ! had I the brush of a Douw or Vandyke, 
 Of Lawrence, or Phillips, or even Van Eyck, 
 (He who paints his old ladies so nice and so like,) 
 
 Or a cast-off pen of Macaulay 
 I might show how tliey look'd, and what they said ;. 
 1 How the wise ones dosed or the paper read ; 
 
 And the busy ones came ahvay, 
 Each, armed with a migVty paper scroll, 
 (My first) done up in portentous roll, 
 
 Containing his private project fine 
 For the cure or every want an.l crime, 
 Each social need of the place and time 
 
 One by means of a tramway line 
 
 From everywhere to nowhere ; 
 And one for suppressing drunkenness, 
 
 Enacting to save all labour 
 That whenever a colonist takes too much 
 
 We should straightway fine his neighbour. 
 In short, so much of mi/ first was there, 
 
 That our profoundest thinkers 
 Seemed to me, (Oh, pardon this idle rhyme !) 
 Like twopenny postmen at Christmas time, 
 
 Or some new sort of Ornithorhynchus. 
 But now the time will soon be here 
 
 When, no longer fancy free, 
 But sorry at heart and sick at head, 
 Bumping about on a villainous bed 
 
 Till my second they'll surely be, 
 The chosen few o'er my whole shall steer, 
 From Lyttelton jetty to Manakau pier, 
 
 In the famous " Zingari ;" 
 
 Where I hope, though I scarcely dare to think, 
 (For I can't quite all probabilities blink) 
 They won't make such a mess of their statesmanship ; 
 That they may be glad at home to stay 
 In peace and quiet for many a day, 
 
 From the cares of otlice free. S. E. 
 
 Dectmler, 1856.
 
 33 
 
 of the Stunner &0afc. C 11 ) 
 
 " The first person of rank who is tilled will put everything in order." STD1T1T 
 SMITH'S letters on Kailways. 
 
 IT was a goodly muster 
 Upon a Monday morn, 
 When the Council iu a cluster - 
 
 Went to view that road forlorn. 
 On Sunday night each quaking man 
 Had gather'd round him all his clan, 
 A long, a last farewell had said, 
 And then despairing went to bed. 
 
 II. 
 
 But the thought came with the morrow, - 
 
 Is this our valour's worth ? 
 Shall our hearts be sunk in sorrow 
 
 When our country calls us forth ? 
 We'll brave the point of Moabone ; 
 And, reckless of each falling stone, 
 Each quivering bog, each dizzie crag, 
 Boldly we'll march on legs or nag. 
 
 in. 
 
 The valiant vow is utter'd ; 
 
 The gallant deed is done ; 
 Though many a bosom flutter'd 
 
 The Ferry Punt is won. 
 Of all that noble Council train 
 Not one is in a quagmire slain ! 
 Not one is carrion on the wild ! 
 Not one is lost to wife or child !
 
 IV. 
 
 Oh ! on that famous morning, 
 
 Had but one member died! 
 None could have missed the warning 
 
 "Which from his body hied : 
 tl The road is doom'd." But now, alas ! 
 We must go round by Evans' pass, 
 Because no hero, all on fire, 
 Like Marcus Curtius, would expire. 
 
 v. 
 
 What ! is there no " brave Roland. 
 
 The flower of chivalry ? " 
 Not one in all this slow land 
 
 Who'll die to set us free ? 
 Methinks I hear a whisp'ring sigh 
 ' Oh ! no, we never will say die ! ' 
 Ah ! treach'rous boast ! ye recreant ten 
 Say die for once, and die like men. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Go, Patriots, call a quorum, 
 
 And be this your battle cry : 
 " Est dulce et decorum 
 
 Pro Bridle-path mori !" 
 Meet ! spout! divide, and pick your man 
 Send him to glory while you can ! 
 And this shall be his requiem grim, 
 " We smash'd the road, for it smashed him." 
 
 o. c. 
 
 December, 1856.
 
 35 
 
 Jproinudal 
 
 No. 1. 
 EAILEOADIOK, ( l2 ) 
 
 PROVINCIAL funds were falling fast, 
 When to the Council Chamber passed 
 A man who held, in red tape tied, 
 A paper with this word outside 
 
 " Eailroadior ! " 
 
 His mouth half grinned ; his eye, with a wink, 
 Flashed like a blot of bright red ink ; 
 And, like a song by Grisi sung, 
 This word flowed from his well-oiled tongue 
 " Eailroadior ! " ' 
 
 In members' eyes he saw the doubt, 
 The objection to his scheme peep out. 
 Within, THE GBAND IDEA shone, 
 And he replied, still pressing on, 
 " Railroadior ! " 
 
 " Try not the tramway," old hands said, 
 " Loose hang the boulders over head ; 
 The work is long, and the cost is high ; " 
 " Hang the expense" was his reply ; 
 "Eailroadior!" 
 
 " Oh ! stay tbee," Christchurch cried, " and spend 
 Thy surplus cash upon this end ! " 
 A mental thumb went to his nose, 
 In mute reply this word he shows 
 "Eailroadior!"
 
 36 
 
 " Beware the road along the tide ! 
 Beware the hole in the hill's inside ! "' 
 This was the public's parting prayer. 
 A voice said, with an off-hand air 
 " Bailroadior ! " 
 
 As, at the end of many a year, 
 The then Provincial Engineer 
 Surveyed the long-projected track, 
 A sheet blew by, with printed back, 
 
 " Kailroadior ! " 
 
 A tramway, where the new road wound, 
 Half buried in the soil was found ! 
 And on a stick, with red tape tied, 
 A paper with this word outside, 
 
 " Kailroadior ! " 
 
 There, in the midst of rocks and clay, 
 Useless but wonderful it lay ; 
 And scornful voices echoed far, 
 From Christchurch to the Sumner bar, 
 " Kailroadior ! " 
 
 C. W. 
 
 October, 1856. 
 
 No. 2. 
 
 THE STRUGGLE OF PAPANUI. 
 
 AT Christchurch, at the dawn of day, 
 All mudless stood the unloaded dray ;. 
 And in the stockyard, near it, lay 
 
 Eight bullocks, waiting patiently.
 
 37 
 
 'The driver thought it not so nice 
 That afternoon, when clocks struck twice, 
 Plunging in swamps and mud-stained ice, 
 The deepness of the axle-tree. 
 
 In slush and quagmire 'fast as nails ' 
 The oxen lash their muddy tails ; 
 But furious still the driver flails, 
 
 And double-thongs unceasingly. 
 
 Then plunge the steers to anger driven, 
 Then snaps the pole with plunges riven, 
 And, louder than these noises even, 
 
 Sharp cracks the whipcord stingingly. 
 
 But heavier yet that whip must drop 
 
 On mud-stuck oxen, neck and crop ; 
 
 And longer yet that dray mast stop, 
 
 Imbedded to its axle-tree. 
 
 'Tis road. But scarce the stoutest one 
 Can ford the mud-lake rolling dun ; 
 Where artful drains that wrong-way run 
 Pour down their waters constantly ! 
 
 The quagmire thickens ; on ye pack ! 
 Through slimy swamps and spongy track. 
 Crack, driver, all thy whipcord crack ! 
 And shout with all thy ribaldry ! 
 
 Few, few will cart, such holes to meet ! 
 Each swamp will lower the price of wheat ; 
 And every road be called a feat 
 Of Government perversity. 
 
 c. w. 
 
 ^November, 1856.
 
 No. 3. 
 ROAD LINES. ( 1S ) 
 
 BELIEVE me, if all those tremendous big hole*. 
 "VVhich I view on thy causeway to-d;iy. 
 Were to-inorrow bridged over with scrub and with polos, 
 
 And craftily covered with clay, 
 Thou would'st still be no use, as this moment thou art. 
 
 Let the Government say as they will, 
 for thy precious zig-zags are too steep for a cart. 
 And we're hopeless of holes in thy hill. 
 
 a \v. 
 
 November. 1856. 
 
 No. 4. 
 
 THE TOWN OF CHKISTCHURCH. ( 14 ) 
 
 AIB. " Groves of Blaniey ." 
 
 OH I the Town of Christchurch 
 Is an elegant mixture 
 Of roads and pasture 
 
 And swamp and saml : 
 So widely stretching 
 In each direction, 
 From Brittan's section 
 To Caulfield's land. 
 
 Oh I fifty twenties 
 The whole extent is 
 Of English acres, 
 
 All in a square : 
 And plenty of space is 
 In the vacant place-. 
 With patches of praties 
 here and tliere.
 
 39 
 
 Oli ! when you enter 
 You're in the centre 
 Of houses in plenty 
 
 On every hand ; 
 There's more than twenty, 
 Both full and empty, 
 And the Superintendent's 
 
 Is very grand. 
 
 And there's public houses, 
 Where whoever chooses 
 Walks in and carouses 
 
 On the best of fare ; 
 But the distant Royal 
 Is, without denial, 
 The biggest of all, 
 
 Beyond compare. 
 
 And there's many a mansion 
 
 Of grand expansion ; 
 
 And some I could mention, 
 
 That could'nt be beat ; 
 And there's tidy villas 
 With weeping willows, 
 And one with pillars 
 
 In Cashel Street. 
 
 Oh ! that's the location 
 That's the admiration 
 Of the population 
 
 Both far and wide ; 
 For in two rows neatly, 
 All down the street, the 
 Houses stand in it, 
 
 On every side.
 
 40 
 
 And there's loud resounding 
 From the iron foundry ; 
 And the Union Bank 
 
 Has an office there ; 
 And there's Mister Packer, 
 And there once was Thacker ; 
 But Doctor Barker 
 
 Is in Cathedral Square. 
 
 Now them that governs 
 This noble province 
 Has a gorgeous office 
 
 That you'll quite admire ; 
 But the way into the building 
 Is most bewildering, 
 So the officials and children 
 
 Slip through the wires ; 
 
 And there there's verandahs 
 Above two of the windows ; 
 But the other end is 
 
 Entirely bare ; 
 And there's a big sun-dial 
 Stuck up for a trial 
 How long the sky '11 
 
 Continue fair. 
 
 Now the rooms are spacious 
 And multifarious ; 
 The chief secretary is 
 
 Under the tiles; 
 But the elegant chamber 
 Of the legislature 
 Is the grandest feature 
 
 Of this noble pile.
 
 41 
 
 And a new and grand set 
 
 Stands over against it, 
 
 (Though theyr'e not commenced yet,) 
 
 On the other side 
 Of the river Avon, 
 That through flax leaves waving 
 Is the water- cresses laving 
 
 "With her silver tide. 
 
 But long is the narration 
 Of the situation, 
 Which my poor genius 
 
 Can not entwine : 
 But were I the writer 
 Of the Christchurcli paper, 
 'Tis in every feature 
 
 I would make it shine. 
 
 C. W. 
 December, 1837. 
 
 No. 5. 
 BALLAD OF THE ANCIENT MEMBER. (") 
 
 " Quorum pars magua fui." 
 
 AIE " Ben Bolt." 
 
 OH ! don't you remember FitzGrerald, my boy ? 
 FitzGrerald who used so to teaze ; 
 Who soaped us all down when we ventured to frown, 
 
 And frown'd when we most wish'd to please. 
 The wind blows fresh on FitzGrerald, my boy, 
 
 As he ploughs through the salt sea foam ; 
 Oh ! I'd like to ship for the same sort of trip, 
 And be paid, my old boy, to go home !
 
 1-2 
 
 Oli ! don't you remember the chamber, my boy, 
 
 Our first Parliamentary Shop ''. 
 With the skylights above, and the four bare \valls, 
 
 And the rain pouring in from the top. 
 There Bills we could quietly pass, my boy ; 
 
 And Bills we could quietly shelve : 
 But now we've to mix among twenty and six, 
 
 Instead of the olden twelve. 
 
 And don't you remember J.B n, my boy, 
 
 The eloquent Secreta-ry ? 
 Who managed things here after turning you out, 
 
 And was then tumbled over* by me. 
 In the country far distant from town, my boy, 
 
 All desolate, drear, and alone, 
 Some people exist among tussocks and sheep ; 
 
 And B n looks after his own. 
 
 And don't you remember our stormy debates ? 
 
 And the nice indiscriminate way 
 In which bitter antagonists over-night 
 
 Would vote side by side the next day ? 
 There were numbers who sat on the Government seats 
 
 In the jolly days gone by ; 
 Hut of all the men who were ministers then 
 
 There remain but you and I. 
 
 And don't you remember old S w 1, my boy ? 
 
 And C s, smiling gaily at care ; 
 
 And H m It u, the spark, and A 1m r, the clerk, 
 
 And S m n, the first in the chair. 
 There's a change in the men that we talk to, my l>y : 
 
 There's a change which may make us look blue. 
 But I don't think you see any changes in me : 
 
 And I see no change in you. 
 
 C. W. 
 
 January, 1858. 
 
 * This is rather too strong an expression for the fact.
 
 No. 0. 
 SONG OF THE SQUATTERS. ( 1R ) 
 
 AFIKH LONGFBLLOW 
 
 WOULD you hear a pretty story 
 Of our ancient legislators, 
 Of our statesmen in the old time, 
 ( )f the councillors and wise men 
 In the very ancient ages ? 
 Shall I tell you how the stockmen, 
 Crafty squatters, subtle shepherds, 
 From the Southward and the Northward, 
 From the deep and wide Waitangi, 
 From the changing Hurunui, 
 From the gloomy Harewood forest, 
 From, the icy lake of Coleridge, 
 From the country of Mackenzie, 
 From the regions of the Westward, 
 Came together down to Christchurch, 
 Entered the Provincial Council, 
 Made orations in the Council, 
 Begged, implored, and prayed the Council,. 
 Coaxed the unsuspecting Council : 
 Hoaxed the simple-minded Council, 
 Did the very wily statesmen, 
 Gammoned all the legislators, 
 Humbugged, diddled, all the members, 
 And departed, laughing, chuckling, 
 "With their thumbs up to their noses. 
 And their other lingers waving, 
 To the Southward and the Northward, 
 To the deep and wide Waitangi, 
 To the changing Hurunui, 
 To the gloomy Harewood forest, 
 To the icy lake of Coleridge, 
 To the country of Mackenzie, 
 Chuckling at the favours granted, 
 Grieving at the little asked for ?
 
 44 
 
 Do you ask me whence these cbucklings, 
 What might be these favours granted, 
 Who these subtle, crafty shepherds, 
 "Who the simple-minded Council, 
 Statesmen, members, legislators ? 
 I would answer, I would tell you, 
 In a pretty little story 
 Of the very ancient ages. 
 
 Oloware, the Secretary, 
 Sat within the Council chamber, 
 On the crimson-covered cushions, 
 On the ministerial benches ; 
 Pen and ink were placed before him ; 
 At bis side a pile of papers ; 
 On the floor the bulky blue-books 
 In his hands before him held he 
 The ' Aineuded Eegulations.' 
 
 Tomicas, the chief surveyor, 
 Sat upon the seat beside him, 
 On the crimson-covered cushions, 
 On the ministerial benches ; 
 In his hands another copy 
 Of the Waste Lauds Regulations, 
 The ' Amended Regulations.' 
 
 All around the Council Chamber 
 Sat the Bix-and-tvrenty members, 
 Representing all the people, 
 All the districts of the Province ; 
 Christchurch, Kaiapoi, and Avon, 
 Akaroa and Eakaia, 
 Ashley, Lyttelton, and Heathcote, 
 Timaru, and Port Victoria. 
 In their hands before them held they, 
 All the six-and-twenty members, 
 The 'Amended Regulations.'
 
 43 
 
 Rose then Oloware the fluent, 
 The long-winded Secretary, 
 Spake such words of sounding grandeur, 
 Sentences so swift and rapid, 
 Phrases of such length and glibness, 
 That the boldest bowed before him, 
 Stopped his ear-holes with his fingers, 
 Wished himself outside the chamber. 
 But to tell you his oration, 
 All the fervour of his genius, 
 All his ornamental language, 
 'Twould be longer, deeper, swifter, 
 And much harder to get over 
 Than the Rangitata river. 
 But, before he ended, spake he 
 ('Twas the pith of his oration): 
 " We have thought and deemed it proper 
 To throw open all the country 
 By relaxing the conditions 
 Which have tied it up so closely ; 
 And the Government doth ask ye 
 To assent to certain measures 
 (Those Amended Regulations 
 Ye are holding now before ye) 
 Which relax the said conditions 
 That have tied the land so tightly ; 
 Tightly tied it, closely bound it, 
 From the ready-money buyer. 
 And the question is before ye, 
 Under your consideration, 
 Aye or no, to pass these measures, 
 The 'Amended Regulations.'" 
 
 Thus he spake for twenty minutes, 
 Making frequent repetitions 
 And subdued reverberations, 
 Like the dropping down of water 
 Prom a spout in rainy weather 
 Into some half-empty barrel.
 
 When he stopped rose Joiiuioltok, 
 Shrewd and subtle Jonnioltok, 
 He the double-barrelled justice, 
 Ever prompt to give opinions ; 
 And at once he shoved his oar iu 
 In his customary manner 
 '" I assent to these proposals 
 "With a trifling reservation. 
 Te will sweep away conditions, 
 -Justly sweep away restrictions, 
 "Which tie up the land so closely ; 
 Only ye'll except the squatter, 
 "Will not touch the rights of squatters, 
 Of the shepherds and the stockmen. 
 Ye shall take the rights of farmers, 
 Of the millers, bakers, butchers, 
 Tailors, drapers, clothiers, hatters, 
 Soldiers, doctors, undertakers, 
 Of storekeepers and bootmakers, 
 Of all trades and occupations, 
 Of all persons in the province, 
 But the shepherds, the runholders ; 
 Them ye shall riot touch nor injure." 
 
 Thus he spake, and gave no reason, 
 Shrewd and subtle Jonnioltok ! 
 But he left the other shepherds, 
 Squatters, and the friends of squatters. 
 To uphold him with their reasons ; 
 For his words had done the business, 
 Woke desires were never dreamed of. 
 And a flutter passed among them, 
 Lighting eyes with apprehension, 
 Opening mouths with expectation, 
 Consciousness of something coming ; 
 Something of advantage coming ; 
 And they took the hint and followed.
 
 So the parson-bird, the tui, 
 The white bearded songster tui, 
 In the morning wakes the woodlands 
 With his customary music. 
 Then the other tuis round him 
 Clear their throats and sing in concert, 
 All the parson birds together. 
 And as sheep together huddled 
 On some river-bed of shingle, 
 Of Rakaia or Waitangi, 
 Or the changing Hurunui, 
 Stand beside the flowing water, 
 Shrink beside the rapid water, 
 And refuse to wet their fleeces ; 
 Till one bolder than the others, 
 Jumbuck of a forward nature, 
 Takes the stream as if he knew it, 
 Tells them he knows all about it. 
 Then the others struggle after, 
 Struggle and plunge headlong after, 
 Wondering at their own presumption. 
 So the shepherds, the run holders, 
 Followed after Jonuioltok, 
 Their bell-wether Jonnioltok. 
 
 First rose burly Scotje-toinsin, 
 He the portly, big and bulky, 
 Round proportioned, talking loudly, 
 Making little men to tremble 
 At his violence of language : 
 " We will leave the land to squatters ; 
 They may hold it on for ever ; 
 For they build on, and improve it, 
 Make their houses and their gardens, 
 Farms, and comfortable homesteads ; 
 And, what's more, they mean to keep it. 
 Therefore ye must let them keep it,
 
 48 
 
 Te had better let them have it. 
 Who is here that will oppose me, 
 He's a fool and out of order." 
 
 Then spoke rugged Bohirodi, 
 The hard-headed one from Yorkshire, 
 He the prince of all the squatters, 
 Largest holder of runholders : 
 " Ye remember old Suellis, 
 Councillor with us of old time ; 
 Crafty statesman, cunning prophet, 
 Who taught all of us our wisdom ; 
 He arranged this matter for us, 
 And he said it should not alter, 
 Should remain as he had left it, 
 As he prophesied, so be it." 
 
 And the very big man Stunnem 
 Moving only eyes and shoulders, 
 Mutely making demonstrations, 
 Saying nought, was most impressive. 
 
 Then the shepherds in a chorus, 
 Squatters and the friends of squatters, 
 Begged, implored, and prayed the Council 
 To consider all their hardships ; 
 How their rents were so oppressive, 
 How their wool was sold for nothing, 
 How they could not sell their wethers 
 For the paltry price of mutton, 
 How the market rate of stations 
 Showed it was a losing business ; 
 And they begged and prayed the Council 
 To maintain the old conditions 
 That had tied the land so closely 
 Only on behalf of squatters, 
 Sweeping quite away the others.
 
 49 
 
 But the most effective reason, 
 Most conclusive in their favour, 
 Was the look that passed among them 
 All around the Council Chamber. 
 
 Few were bold enough to argue 
 In reply to Bobirodi, 
 To the bulky Scotje-tomsin, 
 To the very big man Stunnem, 
 To the subtle Jonnioltok. 
 And the few that stood their ground there, 
 Stood their ground and asked for justice, 
 Simple justice to all classes, 
 They were bullied and brow-beaten, 
 Called to order, reprimanded, 
 By the big men, the stockowners, 
 Squatters and the friends of squatters, 
 And the timid ones around them 
 Who would fain be friends of squatters. 
 So the fluent Secretary, 
 Oloware the rapid speaker, 
 With his colleague sitting by him, 
 Tomicas, the Chief Surveyor, 
 Trembled on the crimson cushions, 
 Gave them all that they demanded, 
 Granted all the boon they asked for, 
 Never dared to raise objections, 
 For they feared the mighty squatters. 
 
 Then departed all the stockmen, 
 Crafty squatters, subtle shepherds, 
 To the Southward", to the Northward, 
 To the wide and deep Waitangi, 
 To the changing Hurunui, 
 To the gloomy Harewood Forest, 
 To the icy lake of Coleridge, 
 To the country of Mackenzie,
 
 50 
 
 To the regions of the "Westward ; 
 With their thumbs up to their noses 
 And their other fingers waving, 
 Chuckling at the favours granted, 
 Grieving at the little asked for. 
 
 And they kicked the farmer backward 
 From the fertile spots of country 
 In the region of the Westward, 
 Never thinking of hereafter. 
 
 c. w. 
 
 February, 1858. 
 
 No. 7. 
 THE BUHNER KOAD. ( ir ) 
 
 " His ideas re somewhat above the level." Edinburgh Review. 
 
 r- Sunnier Road ! the Sumner Boad! 
 
 of dissatisfied mind, . , , 
 
 on his way over a JL >V Inch burly Ihoinas nrst began; 
 imprtaedlV-d Where Dobson all his skill bestowed, 
 historical recoilec- FitzGerald drove, and Honnage ran. 
 
 Eternal talking still goes 011 ; 
 But nothing save the talk is done. 
 
 But afterwards, by The gangers and contractor's crews, 
 fe e a?ures oTthTpr The navvy's pick, the ditcher's spade, 
 eent day. \ found the gain your slopes refuse. 
 
 On other works is money made 
 On lines whose course is further west 
 Than ever your projectors guessed.
 
 51 
 
 T-^SSS^odT.a M A un 1 t peasant looks on Sumner Bay, 
 exercises bis imagi- And Sumner Bay looks out to sea. 
 And, musing there an hour away, 
 
 I dreamed that all might yet agree. 
 For, sitting on Colonial grass, 
 I could not deem myself an ass. 
 
 He recalls the story A Peeler sat beside the bank 
 
 of one Ronnaee, a TTTI i AJ_I i_ -i 3 n 
 
 famous freebooter Where prison kettles boil and nz : 
 onee afterwards van- ^ score of barrows stood iii rank 
 
 quished. but not . r r , n i 
 
 without many es- A score or felons all were his. 
 capes; He counted them that summer's day, 
 
 But when he turned they ran away. 
 
 And he likens the They ran away And where runn'st thou, 
 
 h5*aS . M J P ublic ? - n this Sumner Eoad > 
 
 are not minded to Five hundred drays were toiling now 
 work. by Had you less flighty conduct showed. 
 
 But now so wealthy have you got 
 That here ten thousand pounds may rot ! 
 
 He laments the im- 'Tis something in the dearth of sense 
 bSS5S Among the present heirs of power, 
 
 Hour is coming, and To feel that I, 801116 short time hence, 
 the Man not far off. ^^ haye & ^^ ^ g l orious h our . 
 
 Shall be the minister of fate 
 
 To set these crooked matters straight. 
 
 in the meantime, gh a ll we still crawl o'er mountains steep ? 
 
 he draws up a peti- , 1 , M ,-, , ., 
 
 tion to the Hon. the Must we but pack while others cart r 
 Sfffoi a C Znfy CounciUoM ! of voup surplus keep 
 grant. For our necessities a part ! 
 
 Of Five Score Thousands grant but Five 
 To keep the Sumner Eoad alive !
 
 52 
 
 But no member to "\viiat ! silent Khodes ? and silent Hall ? 
 
 whom he applies will . . . 
 
 present it, alleging Oil, HO ! Iheir VO1C68 faintly JOUQ, 
 
 Ir'obswSVut Sound like a distant baby's squall, 
 
 really, he thinks, And answer " Let one hustings crowd 
 
 fearful of the coming T> , n 
 
 elections. But one pronounce, \ve 11 vote the sum. 
 
 Tis but the public that is dumb." 
 
 He then tries out- In vain ! in vain ! strike other cords ! 
 but finds a( that 10 the Fetch in some fresh colonial beer ! 
 people of Canterbury Leave roads to Governments and Boards : 
 
 are so full of their . , . 
 
 private concerns And talk ot sheep and oxen here ! 
 
 Hark ! joining in the accustomed strain, 
 How jaws each joggle-headed swain ! 
 
 That they won't You have your West Coast Road set out, 
 SMfciflw ntifl When Will your East Coast Eoad be done ? 
 Of two such works why do without 
 
 The shorter and more useful one? 
 Tools ! would ye win what's worth the 
 
 winning, 
 Te must begin at the beginning. 
 
 He thinks to gain Trust not for money to the Banks ! 
 spout'ing'seeo'ndlhan'd They make a charge of ten per cent. 
 Ti 
 
 lons i es coif ri"! 1 ^ our ^ an( ^' wn ich owes no stranger thanks, 
 and getting np a cry Is money more than can be spent. 
 gainst the U.B.A. ^ u t banker's charge and banking cost 
 Is only so much money lost. 
 
 ?"*S h itt: Fil1 "P the g lass with native ale ! 
 goes in lor the farm- Our farmers grew the barley crop 
 mannSre^beer Our brewers brewed the liquid pale. ' 
 s P ^r,' P o r n 0d S n But g^;^, on its frothless top, 
 
 he ventures to expe- * ' n mine the frigid dews distil, 
 
 riment - To think I've got to cross the hill.
 
 58 
 
 But his auditors Place me in Papanui swamp ; 
 
 turn out to be bul- -i 17 -, j_i i r 
 
 lock drivers from a W here notlung save some steers and I 
 
 sheep station, who Sh&ll hear each other's level tramp ; 
 
 nave no votes, and m . , ... - . r > 
 
 prefer brandy to In ere, hill-less, Jet me Jive and die ! 
 ISTSh S Climbing is work for donkeys-Here ! 
 Overcome by his Waiter, remove this beastly beer ! 
 
 feelings, he rushes 
 
 out to return to the town whence he came, cursing the Uridle-path by his gods. 
 
 c. w. 
 
 June, 1859. 
 
 to tfte probtncfal (Council oC Cantcrburg. 
 
 AFTER THE HON. MRS. XOHTON. 
 
 MOVE not ! Move not ! ye reckless M.P.C.'s ! 
 Tour best framed Bills have many a doubtful phrase ; 
 Clauses with which the public disagrees, 
 'Ere they're Gazetted for a few short days. 
 
 Move not ! Move not ! 
 
 Move not ! Move not ! The Bill you move may drop, 
 May be rejected though by you 'tis passed ; 
 
 His Honor's veto may its progress stop, 
 Or Colonel Browne may disallow at last. 
 
 Move not ! Move not ! 
 
 Move not ! Move not ! The clause you move may change, 
 
 May be amended by a word or two ; 
 The meaning, fondly laboured o'er, grow strange ; 
 
 The clause may still be passed, but not by you ! 
 
 Move not ! Move not ! 
 
 Move not ! Move not ! Oh, warning vainly said 
 To new-fledged members, of their motions proud ! 
 
 Bills of his moving turn the poor man's head ; 
 Legal and faultless till they're disallowed ! 
 
 Move not ! Move not ! 
 
 C. W, 
 
 March, 1856.
 
 54 
 
 tfje Cngttuet? ( 18 ) 
 
 fTlHE autumn time is past its prime ; 
 JL The winter draws anigh ; 
 The southern rain pours on the plain ; 
 
 The swamps are rising high ; 
 The drains begin to tumble in ; 
 
 The bridges want repair ; 
 The roadway cuts in holes and ruts, 
 
 And holloas out for care. 
 
 With cash opprest the public chest 
 
 Is almost overflowed ; 
 In copper coined, 'twould metal find 
 
 For fifty miles of road. 
 The country through there's work to do ;. 
 
 And most this time of year ; 
 But still we stand on every hand, 
 
 For Where's the Engineer ? 
 
 The cuckoo green, in summer seen, 
 
 With shiny plumage drest, 
 In autumn flies to other skies 
 
 Towards the warmer west ; 
 But back he'll wing his way in spring 
 
 And stay for half-a-vear ; 
 Six months at least he loves the East ; 
 
 So may the Engineer ! 
 
 The constant breeze from eastern seas 
 
 Across the plain may blow, 
 Where forest fair and granite bare 
 
 Are clad in western snow ; 
 But, fast and warm, ihenor'-west storm 
 
 "Will quit those deserts drear; 
 And sigh and burn in ^lad return : 
 
 So may the Engineer !
 
 55 
 
 The glorious sun, when day is done, 
 
 Drops on the mountain's crest, 
 And lends the ray we felt to-day 
 
 To warm and light the west ; 
 But though he sink o'er ocean's brink, 
 
 To-morrow he'll appear 
 From out the tide the other side, 
 
 So may the Engineer ! 
 
 But though the bird the West preferred, 
 
 Nor mountain breezes blew ; 
 And though the sun when day is done 
 
 Bade us a last adieu ; 
 Still D n, thee we hope to see, 
 
 Our longing hearts to cheer ; 
 Still we cry out, with piteous shout, 
 
 Return, Oh Engineer ! 
 
 For thou must know what figures show 
 
 We hold thee very dear ; 
 It racks our heart from one to part 
 
 Who's worth so much a year. 
 But if the West thou lovest best, 
 
 Nor dost thy duties here 
 Then rest thee stay for aye away 
 We only say 'twere cheap to pay 
 
 Another Engineer. 
 
 c. w. 
 
 May, 1858. 
 
 (Spitjram. 
 THE NELSON APPEAL. ( 19 ) 
 
 riHHE ancient pilgrim on his way 
 
 _L Took neither purse nor scrip, they say, 
 
 Nor gold nor other coin to pay 
 
 The proper charges of the trip.
 
 This precept X el son half obeys 
 Has gold, but vet no charges pays ; 
 And to her neighbour pilgrims says : 
 " We'll share and share alike always ; 
 I keep my purse, take you my scrip." 
 
 c. w. 
 
 July, 1858. 
 
 dDfjaratoe at the 2unus. 
 
 * A straight line is the shortest distance between two points." EUCLID. 
 
 MORN" on the waters ! Purple and bright 
 Bursts on the billows the flushing of light ; 
 Bright in the beam it has caught from afar, 
 Sparkles the surge on the Sumner Bar ; 
 Struggling through mists with a mimic wrath, 
 Gleam the steep slopes of the Bridle Path. 
 Drooping his eyes, and wringing his hands, 
 On Lyttelton jetty a Colonist stands ; 
 What shall he do with his Household goes ? 
 His chairs and tables, and curtains, and rods ? 
 Greener than Erin's most verdurous turf, 
 Shall he trust them to Sumner's treacherous surf ? 
 Or wearily drag them, box and bag, 
 By Evans' Pass, and Gollan's Crag, 
 Over the slippery steep Zig-Zag ? 
 Ensphered in the Planet, or Wheeler and Nurs'd, 
 How ! oh, How shall be moved My First ? 
 
 But hark ! a voice of cheerful bode 
 " FitzGerald has opened the Sumner road ! " 
 Cheerily starts he, with heart elate, 
 Case, and package, bag, bundle, and crate ; 
 Till he finds, as he nears the Sticking Point, 
 That the times, and the road, are out of joint. 
 See these carts of cruel stone ; 
 Hark to the blasters' warning moan !
 
 57 
 
 " Back from our path, ye ill-starred men, 
 
 For the Sumner Boad is closed again !" 
 
 While the Christchurch bell, in mournful mode, 
 
 Tolls My Lnst for the Sumner Koad ; 
 
 And seems to foretell its own sad fate 
 
 To the Colonist and his luckless freight. 
 
 Hurrah, for the cure of all our ills ! 
 Hurrah, for the triumph of sturdy wills ! 
 Double and treble our exports grow ; 
 Northward, and southward, and westward, ho ! 
 Shall the stream of population flow ; 
 Its Halcyon days our land shall know ; 
 When free from fear of tempest or tide, 
 My Whole shall pierce the green hill side. 
 
 October, 1859. 
 
 Immigrant's Carol far Christmas. 
 
 OH, Christmas ! merry Christmas ! 
 We hail thee once again, 
 To shores where late thy cheering morn 
 
 2sVer dawned on Christian men. 
 But from their thrones for evermore 
 
 The heathen gods are flung; 
 And the good old Christmas tide is hail'd 
 In the good old English tongue. 
 
 But not, as in the olden land, 
 
 Where still our memories cling, 
 By blazing hearths, amid the snow, 
 
 Our Christmas songs we sing. 
 But when the bright sun's soften'd rays 
 
 Are with the flowers at play, 
 We cull sweet summer's fruits to grace 
 
 Our board, on Christmas Day.
 
 53 
 
 The children in the green lanes bind 
 
 The roses in their hair, 
 And the sad old year goes sighing out, 
 
 To leave a scene so fair ; 
 "While friends meet friends with happy hearts 
 
 In many a social band, 
 To hold their merry Christmas 
 
 In our adopted land. 
 
 A. C. 
 December, 1859. 
 
 flTfce Cofon an* tfje Corrent. ( 20 ) 
 
 A BECKLKSS BHTMB. 
 
 " Rusticns expectat dum defluat amnis, at ille 
 Labitur, et labetur in omne volubilis aevum." HOBACE. 
 
 rp HE RE'S a town that bears a grand old name, 
 J_ Though it be but a new made spot ; 
 The beauty that some other towns may claim 
 
 Every one knows it has not. 
 "With its dead bare level, and square cut streets, 
 
 Its houses so scattered and small ; 
 And the wind that will blow, and the sand that won't go,. 
 
 'Tis not pleasant to live in at all. 
 But 'twas once a good business, I understand, 
 Buying and selling the Christchurch land. 
 
 (Am " Duncan Gray.") 
 
 Christchurch lies a little low ; 
 
 Hey, hey, the level o't ! 
 Above the tide a foot or so ; 
 
 Hey, hey, the level o't. 
 And when about the town you go, 
 Sundry indications show 
 That here a river used to flow ; 
 
 Hey, and that's the o't !
 
 59 
 
 Only think, here's a go ; 
 
 Fancy that years ago 
 I don't like to make it too short or too long ; 
 
 A very safe venture is 
 
 Several centuries 
 The learned must pardon me if I go wrong ; 
 
 My only apology 
 
 Is that geology 
 Was not a science they taught me when young. 
 
 But, if asked what Christchurch is on, 
 
 Sir Roderick Murchison 
 
 Would, fearless of heresies, 
 
 Say, from those terraces, 
 Sandhills and shingle lines running along, 
 
 That, in reality, 
 
 Down this locality 
 Some torrent had come it uncommonly strong. 
 
 (Am " Cork Leg.") 
 
 At Avonhead lived one Mister Bray, 
 Who every morning used to say 
 " I should not be much surprised to-day 
 If Christchurch city were swept away, 
 
 By the rushing, crushing, flushing, gushing, 
 AVaimukariri river." 
 
 He told his tale, and he showed his plan, 
 How the levels lay, and the river ran ; 
 The neighbours thought him a learned man, 
 But wished him further than Ispahan, 
 
 With his wearing, tearing, flaring, scaring, 
 Waimakariri river. 
 
 (AiR " Kitty of Coleraine.") 
 
 As young Mr. Rowley one morning was going 
 With a barrel on wheels to the river for drink, 
 
 Instead of a mile oft', he found it was flowing 
 
 Five yards from the house, and a foot from the brink.
 
 60 
 
 The river was tumbling, the banks they were crumbling, 
 Poor Rowley had scarcely got time to jump round, 
 
 When very soon after, from basement to rafter, 
 
 The whole of his house disappeared from the ground. 
 
 AIE (" Froggy would a-wooing go.") 
 
 So off he jumped, and took to his heels, 
 
 Heigh-ho ! says Rowley ; 
 So off he jumped, and took to his heels, 
 And off went the bullock and barrel on wheels, 
 
 From the rolling, bowling Waimakariri. 
 
 " Heigh-ho ! " says young Mister Rowley. 
 
 And when he came to Christchurch town ! 
 
 " Heigh-ho ! " says Rowley ; 
 And when he came to Christchurch town, 
 " Look out," says he, " for the coming down 
 
 Of the rolling, bowling \Yaimakariri." 
 
 " Heigh-ho ! " says young Mister Rowley. 
 
 The people all got in a terrible fright, 
 
 At the heigh-ho ! of Rowley ; 
 The people all got in a terrible fright, 
 And went by dozens to take a sight 
 
 At the rolling, bowling Waimakariri 
 " Oh, do," says young Mister Rowley. 
 
 Prompt were the steps the Government took. 
 The Superintendent closed his book, 
 And started rapidly up from where he 
 k % Just then sat, 
 
 Called for his hat, 
 
 And stepped at once to the Secretary. 
 That eminent officer, just before, 
 
 Being always ready alike for pleasure or 
 Business, had shut and locked his door, 
 
 And stepped with the news to his friend the Treasurer.
 
 61 
 
 The man of money had hurriedly gone 
 
 So said his feminine attendant 
 With a couple of swimming belts tied on, 
 
 Across to His Honor the Superintendent. 
 
 First up, then down, 
 
 Then across the town 
 The three went, one another following, 
 
 Like wolves in a cage, 
 
 Till they got in a rage, 
 
 Which they'd very great trouble indeed in swallowing* 
 They certainly would have walked till night 
 They might have been going till morning light; 
 They might have been playing the whole of the week 
 A triangular game of hide and seek ; 
 They might have been walking, in imitation 
 Of the cork leg's wonderful peregrination, 
 
 I can't tell how, 
 
 Even till now 
 
 A striking example of quick and dead, 
 The constant, heavy, monotonous tread, 
 Leaving intact both body and head, 
 
 But wearing out the soul, 
 
 And making each corporeal whole 
 
 A " corporation sole " 
 
 Not fleshless spirits, of which, there are hosts, 
 But the very vice versa of ghosts ; 
 Spiritless bodies, that should be the grave in, 
 Of whom I have known no example, save in 
 The first navigation concern of the Avon. 
 
 This trio walked before they died 
 With swinging arms, and lengthened stride, 
 
 And nose aloft in air ; 
 With head erect, and open-eyed, 
 
 And backward streaming hair ; 
 They strode the street of still Madras, 
 Where grows at will the untrodden grass, 
 
 To Sumner road the wide.
 
 Thence on by Cashel's peopled street, 
 Some of whose houses almost meet 
 
 In ranks down either side. 
 To where, cool gliding through the heat, 
 
 Slides Avon's silvery tide. 
 And as adown the stream he pressed, 
 Each turned a glance towards the west, 
 
 Dreaming of quick disaster ; 
 And saw, or thought lie saw, or guessed 
 He saw the billows' foaming crest ; 
 
 Then stepped a little faster. 
 By Gloucester's half-worn thoroughfare, 
 Whose panes with every product glare 
 Soft goods, and hard, and holloware, 
 
 With Stringer's buns and toffees ; 
 And Cookham's famous boots are there, 
 
 So is the Union Office. 
 
 By street and by terrace each hurried apace, 
 
 One after the other, but all in vain, 
 Till they reached the right reverend Martyr's place, 
 
 And. then they began the round again. 
 For it happened perversely, as tilings will chance, 
 
 With the luck to which most poor mortals born are, 
 As each round a turning gave a first glance, 
 
 His man was doubling a distant corner. 
 
 Now they might have walked, as I said before, 
 A day, or a week, or a month, or more ; 
 But happily, as they were going at score, 
 
 THE CLOCK STRUCK FOUB ! 
 
 Witches, we know, and fairies too, 
 
 And every supernatural crew, 
 
 In the height of their dance, when the cock does crow, 
 
 Listantly stop 
 
 The nocturnal hop, 
 Vanish in air, and away they go !
 
 63 
 
 So public officials of every degree, 
 Though slaves at fifty-nine minutes past three, 
 The instant they hear the stroke of four 
 The pen must stop, 
 And the paper must drop ; 
 The books are shut, and they work no more. 
 Quick and far, with electric force, 
 'Twas felt ; the Government stopped, of course, 
 No need of clock, nor of bell for them ; 
 Instinct told them 'twas 4 p.m. 
 Each, as if shot, 
 Stopped on the spot, 
 
 Turned on his heel, gave liis forehead a wipe ; 
 Felt in his pocket and pulled out a pipe ; 
 Got ready to smoke, and prepared to depart, 
 Slowly, in search of some ale, to the Hart, 
 IS'ow looking the map in, 
 You'll find it would happen, 
 Each coming up from a different beat, 
 That just at the junction they would meet 
 Of Cathedral square with Hereford street. 
 
 First and at once, by right of his station, 
 His Honor demanded an explanation : 
 
 "I say I say 
 " Nice fellows, you two, 
 
 " Kunning away, 
 " Just when you knew there was something to do. 
 
 " But go I say, go ! 
 
 "I want dinner you know 
 "I'm hungry, you made me run after you so. 
 
 " But stay I say, stay ! 
 " One of you call on the clerk on your way 
 
 "You see that the river is 
 " Getting mysterious, p'rhaps even serious, 
 " It's a chance if to-morrow we all are alive 
 
 " And let him deliver his
 
 61 
 
 *' Summonses all my advisers to call, 
 " To hold an Executive Council at five. 
 
 " And here I say, here ! 
 " Remind him to summon the Engineer." 
 
 They met 'twas up a stair for they thought it was coming j 
 They looked it was not there but they heard like its 
 
 humming. 
 
 They talked in whisper'd tone, their keen anguish to smother; 
 But one, and one alone, said 'twas all his grandmother ! 
 "What's to be done ? 
 ~\Vas the general question 
 Felt, but unspoken ; 
 Till suddenly one 
 Made a suggestion, 
 And silence was broken. 
 He began by observing that all propriety 
 Showed that in every novel society 
 Naught should be done at all at variance 
 With the dictates of old experience. 
 That mention made he 
 Of a sage old lady 
 
 Her name would be recognised far and wide, 
 Who, when ocean invading 
 Set other folks wading, 
 Made use of a pitchfork to stop the tide. 
 And then he proposed, as the easiest plan 
 
 (In talking of forks he, of course, the most simple meant) 
 For stopping the river, that every man 
 
 Should furnish himself with a similar implement. 
 Another sage Councillor rose up to say, 
 
 "With his colleague's opinion he partly accorded ; 
 But, seeing the progress of science each day, 
 
 Some room for improvement -was surely afforded, 
 He thought that, laying aside the prong, 
 
 "Whose only use was on shallow beaches, 
 The pole by itself, six times as long, 
 
 Would be better in currents and rapid reaches.
 
 65 
 
 The members approved the latter suggestion ; 
 They put and carried, nem. con., the question ; 
 And, dropping irrelevant conversation, 
 Agreed to the following 
 I 
 
 PBOCLAMATION ! 
 
 WHEREAS it seems likely the river may break 
 Through its banks ; and we know not the course it may take j 
 And whereas 'tis expedient to run up some better a 
 Eampart : Now therefore, I, William, et cetera, 
 Proclaim that all persons shall institute searches 
 !For pitchforks, and all they can find they must purchase; 
 Then knock all the prongs off, and taking the staves away, 
 March to the river and help keep the waves away. 
 Done at our palace, September sixteen, 
 The year does not matter, and 
 
 GOD SATE THE QUEEN! 
 
 Odd, very odd it was thought by all ; 
 
 Uncommonly odd the Government thought it. 
 So fancies a cricketer dropping a ball, 
 
 Precisely the moment he thinks he has caught it. 
 
 Most provoking ! beyond all joking ! 
 
 Very perplexing ! exceedingly vexing ! 
 In spite of their skill, and in spite of their science ; 
 
 In spite of the fame 
 
 Of the eminent dame, 
 On whose old appliance they placed such reliance ; 
 
 The rampart of sticks 
 
 When they managed to fix, 
 And far from too easy a matter they found it, 
 
 The stream, rising frightfully, 
 
 Broke, as if spitefully, 
 Over it, under it, through it, and round it.
 
 66 
 
 More frightened than ever, the folks on the plains 
 
 Turned, after they heard it, uncommonly brown 
 In all the nor'-westers and easterly rains, 
 
 For fear that the river might chance to come down. 
 While some men who thought themselves extra sagacious, 
 
 And offered to bet on it many a crown, 
 To make their opinion the more efficacious, 
 
 Affirmed that the river would surely come down* 
 , But to silence for ever all empty conjecture, 
 
 To settle all doubts on the fate of the town, 
 The highest authority proved in a lecture, 
 
 By figures and facts, that it must come down. 
 From that time to this, says the story, the river 
 
 Showed such disregard for all reason that by it you'd 
 Judge it had studied the journals, and ever 
 
 Bemained in its bed with remarkable quietude. 
 
 C. W 
 
 April, 1860. 
 
 to 
 A GEOWL IN A SOU'-WESTEE. 
 
 EDEX of the Southern Sea, 
 I devote my lay to thee, 
 Thee, of whom at Home they tell 
 Things to make the bosom swell. 
 Thee, of whom in Crosby square 
 Loud laudations shake the air : 
 (Disbelieve what mortal can 
 The seductive tongue of Gann ?) 
 
 So that men have christened thee, 
 
 Eden of the Southern Sea.
 
 Thee whom, praised by magic lyre 
 Of Hursthouse, men unseen admire ! 
 Land of plains and grassy swells, 
 "Where the gentle Maori dwells, 
 Equal, save in copper face, 
 With the European race, 
 Strong in love, in council grave, 
 Christian, chivalrous, and brave ; 
 These are things they tell of thee, 
 Eden of the Southern Sea. 
 
 Where the bee, on drooping wing, 
 Laden with the spoils of spring, 
 , Lays up so profuse a store, 
 ' Suffices all, and something more ; 
 "Where the breezes, soft and free, 
 Rival those of Italy. 
 Where the lovely ka-ka screeches, 
 And the pigs are fed on peaches ! 
 What on earth compares with thee, 
 Eden of the Southern Sea ? 
 
 Where the wide extended plain 
 Waves with fields of golden grain ; 
 Where the shepherd, 'midst his sheep, 
 Beneath the stars fears not to sleep ; 
 Where the zephyrs from the hills 
 Are med'cine for all human ills ; 
 Where contentment reigns around ; 
 And no murmurers can be found : 
 This, and more, they say of thee, 
 Eden of the Southern Sea. 
 
 But 'tis sad, though very clear, 
 That we're fated now to hear, 
 Landed on thy far-famed shore, 
 Things wejheard not named before.
 
 68 
 
 Settlers arming for their lives 
 And their little ernes and wives 
 Forced to fly, or stay and be 
 " Chawed up catawampously ! ' 
 
 We were not told tins of thee, 
 
 Eden of the Southern Sea. 
 
 Land where men with brains of fog 
 
 Built a city in a bog ! 
 
 Land of rain, and storm, and flood ! 
 
 Land of water, wind, and mud ! 
 
 "Where six days a week the gale, 
 
 Laden thick with rain or hail, 
 
 First from sou' -west blows a piercer, 
 
 Then veers nor'-west and blows fiercer J 
 
 This is what I think of thee, 
 
 Eden of the Southern Sea. 
 
 Land where all is dear and bad, 
 Comfort scarcely to be had ; 
 Wooden house, with shingle roof, 
 Neither wind nor waterproof ; 
 And the mutton and the beef 
 Fit to cause a Briton grief ; 
 And of all things the most dear 
 (As to price) a glass of beer! 
 
 Oh ! I'm sadly sold in thee, 
 
 Eden of the Southern Sea. 
 
 But I have located here ; 
 No alternative, I fear, 
 But to make the best of thee, 
 Only longing to be free ; 
 Patiently to bear thy clime, 
 And anticipate the time 
 When, my transportation o'er, 
 I shall seek some genial shore, 
 
 Never to return to thee, 
 
 Eden of the Southern Sea. J. T. E. 
 
 July, 1860.
 
 09 
 
 Alburn 3Linc0. 
 THE BAZAAK. 
 
 OP all the wicked modes whereby 
 Weak men are circumvented, 
 Supreme is the Bazaar, say I, 
 In evil hour invented. 
 
 You go, perchance, to view the scene 
 
 Most strictly a spectator ; 
 The times of late so bad have been, 
 
 Tou're not a speculator. 
 
 With purse well guarded, heart of flint, 
 And eyes of cold abstraction, 
 
 Tou callous seein to every hint, 
 And blind to each distraction. 
 
 Of caps at home you've quite a store, 
 
 Of neck -ties also plenty, 
 Tou reckon slippers by the score, 
 
 Of vests at least have twenty. 
 
 In cushions, markers, studs, and rings, 
 Tour stock is most extensive, 
 
 Why buy pen-wipers ? useless things ! 
 Outrageously expensive ! 
 
 Bash man ! though these you may elude, 
 Strange goods will take their places ; 
 
 Think not that here you can intrude, 
 And treat with scorn the Graces. 
 
 Those little socks for tiny feet, 
 Tou homeward soon will carry, 
 
 The baby's dress should be complete ; 
 Who knows but you may marry ?
 
 70 
 
 In vain you plead, with long-drawn fa ce, 
 
 You want no parasol ; 
 The nymph holds forth with winning grace 
 
 The witcheries of a doll ! 
 
 Hot and oppressed, you seek the seat 
 
 Near lemonade and ices, 
 Where gingerbread and bon-bons meet, 
 
 And sell at fearful prices. 
 
 Here for awhile you seek repose, 
 
 Alas ! a vain illusion ! 
 A Pysche, while the nectar flows, 
 
 O'erwhelms you with confusion. 
 
 "Who loses money feels the smart ; 
 
 Some friend may money lend us ; 
 Worse ill works Cupid's subtle dart, 
 
 From which, kind Heaven, defend us ! 
 
 J. T. E. 
 
 October, 1860. 
 
 3mbo. ( 21 ) 
 
 A BUCOLIC AFTBE VIBGIL. 
 
 Mrst Swain. TXITZ GERALD ! once again we meet ! 
 J. Thee warmly doth the country greet ! 
 If thou to me assistance lend, 
 Then I will be thy dearest friend. 
 
 Second Swain. Oh, Moorhouse ! Fortune's favor'd son ! 
 Thou hast her every gift but one. 
 If to my counsels thou'lt attend, 
 I'll make thee great and be thy friend.
 
 71 
 
 First Swain. Nay, Fitz, I fear thou hast forgot 
 
 That I'm in power, and thou art not ; 
 My plans are formed, take that for granted. 
 And keep advice until 'tis wanted. 
 
 Second Swain. Oh ! Moorhouse, Moorhouse, half an ounce 
 Of sense is worth a pound of bounce ; 
 Be wise : thy reckless schemes resign, 
 And wholly trust to me and mine. 
 
 First Swain. Now, harken ! rather, I declare, 
 
 Than give our fortunes 1;o thy care 
 Rather than trust thy plans or thee 
 I'd sink the country in the sea. 
 
 Second Swain. Then harken thou ! in loud debate, 
 
 With warning voice throughout the State, 
 I'll rouse the bitter social storm, 
 To do thee and thy projects harm. 
 
 First Swain. Begone, and do thy worst ; for I 
 
 Thee and thy crack-brained schemes defy. 
 
 Second Sivain. Begone ! and let the public try 
 
 "Which is more crack-brained, thou or I. 
 
 First Swain. But stay perhaps conceive suppose 
 The public will not come to blows. 
 
 Second Swain. Aye, stay perhaps they may not quite 
 Eor either schemer care to fight. 
 
 First Swain. Of course they think you very raah. 
 Second Stvain. And you, they know, can scatter cash.
 
 72 
 
 First Swain. But then, you're at the bottom true. 
 Second Swain. Well, come ! they think the same of you. 
 
 Both. No quarrels, then ; the public know 
 That they themselves are rather slow, 
 And wish that you and I who lead, 
 Should have a little extra speed. 
 
 [Exeunt amicably. 
 
 c. w. 
 
 December, 1860. 
 
 first of 
 
 WHEN first I saw young Neddy, 
 'Twas on the first of May ; 
 On a slashing mare to town he rode, 
 
 His yearly rent to pay. 
 But when that mare was out at grass 
 
 For six weeks in the spring, 
 No blade was there that could compare 
 
 "With the nice young man I sing. 
 As he rode on his spanking mare, 
 By the corner of Milliner's square, 
 Every girl in the place dropped ribbons and lace, 
 And looked after the spanking pair. 
 
 In high Provincial Council, 
 The Members brave and wise, 
 
 Sit silent round, without a sound, 
 When the speaker " Order" cries. 
 
 But Neddy, more imperious, 
 Makes all round him shout.
 
 73 
 
 As he passes them by, they stare and cry 
 " Does your mother know you're out ! " 
 
 As he gallops his slashing mare 
 
 The lads all cry " Take care," 
 ""Hold on as you ride " " Take a place inside ;" 
 Or, " Come down off that spanking mare." 
 
 Young Xeddy round his hat, Sir, 
 
 Has a whisp of muslin green ; 
 But the tradesmen folk who trust him 
 
 More verdant are, I ween ; 
 For he looks so youthful, so mild and truthful, 
 
 "With a sweet engaging air, 
 They never ask payment for food or raiment, 
 
 But give it as free as air. 
 As he mounts his spanking mare, 
 They rush to their doors and stare, 
 -And envy together the woolliest wether 
 That's shorn for him and his mare. 
 
 I'd rather own that mare, sir, 
 
 "With a hempen halter tied, 
 Than a ship-load down from Melbourne town, 
 
 "With saddles and all beside. 
 . [For the agent would call to-morrow, 
 
 "With a little account to pay, 
 But Neddy, the thief, would have come to grief, 
 
 And be galloping out of the way, 
 On another spanking mare, 
 "While all his creditors swear 
 
 That there's plenty to lose, if to trust you choose, 
 A man with a spanking mare. 
 
 c. w. 
 
 -1%, 1861.
 
 74, 
 ilament of Canttrfwrg. ( S2 > 
 
 DEAR Mr. Editor, I pray give ear 
 To ray sad tale, my pitiful lament ; 
 I've not been so annoy'd this many a year, 
 
 My inside's really quite in a ferment. 
 Those other provinces oh dear ! oh dear ! 
 
 Are filling me with shame and discontent ; 
 I, who was once so vigorous and bold, 
 And in the dumps and why? Tve got no gold! 
 
 There's that Otago oatmeal eating place 
 Is turning gold up by the hundred weight. 
 That fag-end of the world now in the race, 
 
 Is going ahead at a confounded rate. 
 See what a grin lights up each Scotchman's face, 
 
 When they compare their own with my sad fate. 
 Otago may be bleak, and wet, and cold, 
 But what of that, when they've got lots of gold ? 
 
 Then up at Nelson, too, they've still got patches, 
 
 Where men may earn about a crown a day ; 
 And every month you hear of folks in batches, 
 
 To some new gully being led away. 
 Though their best fields are only chicken's scratches, 
 
 And their best claims were never known to pay. 
 But I don't dare to speak lest I get told, 
 " We have got some but you you've got no gold ! " 
 
 There's the North Island, too, if people knew it, 
 
 Has got gold from the one end to the other ; 
 See Coromandel, how the stuff runs through it, 
 
 If Mr. Maori would but act the brother, 
 . And let his white companion get up to it, 
 
 If it was here, I'd soon stop all that bother. 
 We know not what the future may unfold. 
 But I'm afraid it will bring me no gold.
 
 75 
 
 I've got a great geologist to look 
 
 About for gold and try can lie discern it ; 
 And he's been fossicking in every nook, 
 
 But nothing found, or I should quickly learn it- 
 Except some coal, as black as any rook, 
 
 And famous fuel, if one could only burn it. 
 Coal is a mine of wealth, as I've been told ; 
 But blow black diamonds ! "What I want is gold ! 
 
 I've boundless plains (half swamp, half stony land) ; 
 I've mighty streams that through those plains come- 
 
 roaring ; 
 I've lots of bush (though it's not close at hand) ; 
 
 I've lofty hills through one of them I'm boring ; 
 I'vo foaming cataracts, and glaciers grand, 
 
 Though I don't think such places worth exploring ;, 
 I've stores of mineral wealth, as yet untold, 
 But none of what I want I've got no gold ! 
 
 I've circulated rumours, not a few, 
 
 Of people finding nuggets by the score, 
 To cause a rush, but that game wouldn't do, 
 It only got me laughed at more and more. 
 They found some lately down at Timaru 
 
 Though they that found it planted it before. 
 The people don't seem willing to be sold 
 They can't be made believe there's any gold ! 
 
 What shall I do ? My case is very hard. 
 
 I've one more grief to state before I leave it. 
 I'm offering now One Thousand Pounds Reward 
 
 For finding gold lut people don't believe it ! 
 They think the beggars are so on their guard 
 
 It's all a hoax, and that they'll not receive it. 
 Dear Mr. Editor, may I be so bold, 
 One question Do you know of any gold ? 
 
 J. T. M. 
 October, 1862.
 
 76 
 
 QTfje Eost Steamship. ( 23 ) 
 
 LOWLY the great red sun 
 
 Sank iu the seas ; 
 Grey cloud grey cloud upon, 
 Ossa on Pelion, 
 Up from the horizon 
 Crept on the breeze, 
 That with a mournful sigh, 
 Like a sad spirit's cry, 
 Weirdly and fitfully 
 Swept o'er the seas. 
 
 Then while the heavens grew 
 Deeper and deeper blue, 
 Changing to ebon hue 
 Star after star, 
 Climbing the distant height, 
 Each a pale thread of light 
 Down through the murky night 
 Shot from afar. 
 
 "Still the great clouds of grey 
 Darker and darker, aye, 
 Over the starry way 
 Hose on the breeze. 
 Darker and darker yet, 
 Till over all they met, 
 And, like a pall of jet, 
 Hung o'er the seas. 
 
 Silence unbroken by 
 Aught but the sea-bird's cry, 
 And the wind's solemn sigh ; 
 Saving the sound 
 Of the great inky waves, 
 Rising o'er ocean caves, 
 Falling o'er ocean graves 
 Reigned all around.
 
 77 
 
 See ! where a stream of light 
 Gleams from a furnace bright, 
 Beams through the gloom of night 
 Over the deep. 
 Yonder a steamer's bound ; 
 Hark to the engine's sound ; 
 Hark how the wheels go round, 
 Merrily sweep. 
 
 Gaily the waters splash, 
 
 Gaily the paddles clash, 
 
 As through the waves they dash 
 
 Swiftly along. 
 
 And o'er the rolling seas, 
 
 Comes on the fitful breeze, 
 
 Mingled with sounds like these, 
 
 Laughter and song. 
 
 Hark! what is that I hear? 
 Hush, 'tis a sound of fear! 
 Strain now the eye and ear, 
 The Light is gone. 
 Oh ! List that dreadful cry, 
 Like a last agony ; 
 In it what terrors lie, 
 God ! that 'twere dawn ! 
 
 Hark ! o'er the murky main 
 Comes the dread sound again ; 
 Yet the eye looks in vain. 
 Hush, it is o'er. 
 Now doth a stillness reign, 
 Save the wind's sigh again, 
 And the great mournful main 
 
 Sobbing to shore. 
 *****
 
 78 
 
 Slowly the night has passed, 
 And the great sun at last 
 Over the sea has cast 
 Brightly his ray ; 
 But o'er the rolling deep 
 Vainly the eye doth sweep ; 
 Nowhere a paddle ship 
 Speeds on her way. 
 
 Vainly the loved ones wait, 
 Sadly and desolate ; 
 Still is that steamer's fate 
 Hidden in gloom ; 
 And God alone can tell 
 What on that night befell, 
 And how the " City " went 
 Down to her doom. 
 
 Weep for the desolate ! 
 Weep for the widow's state ! 
 Weep for the orphan's fate ! 
 Weep ye and pray 
 That the great God, who gave 
 Theirs to one common grave, 
 Will, in His mercy, save 
 Them in their day ; 
 
 And with his favour bless 
 Widow and fatherless, 
 Giving to them the grace 
 Humbly to say 
 E'en from beside the grave- 
 Blessed be God who gave, 
 And in His wisdom hath 
 Taken away. 
 
 W. J. S. 
 
 June, 1865.
 
 79 
 
 . ( 2 *) 
 
 AN HISTORICAL B1LLU). 
 
 was an Island in the sea, 
 J_ Of which some people say 
 It was not very wise or old, 
 Although its head was GEEY. 
 
 Now in this Island all the men 
 
 Fell out, as it was found, 
 Into a quarrel, though it was 
 
 Pacific all around. 
 
 For of the people some were black, 
 
 And others they were white ; 
 Which was a serious difference, 
 
 So they began to fight. 
 
 One morn they fought, the fight was hot, 
 Although the day was show'ry ; 
 
 And many a gallant soldier then 
 Was bid Memento Maori. 
 
 The smoke was thick, the blacks fell down 
 
 Upon the ground like rain ; 
 Though once they joined a rising, now 
 
 They'll never rise again. 
 
 And where the fire was very hot, 
 
 It 'made a number cold ; 
 It broke the ranks, it melted them, 
 
 And cast them on the mould. 
 
 Among the wounded was a man, 
 
 To whom the names belong 
 Of EXOCH C^SAR PALMEESTON, 
 
 Done into Maori tongue.
 
 80 
 
 Now ENOCH'S leg had got in it 
 
 A bullet from a gun ; 
 And when he tried to cut away, 
 
 The wound began to run. 
 
 And since he could not run with it, 
 He stopped and bound his scars ; 
 
 And though not hoping to be paid, 
 "Was pitched upon by Tars. 
 
 "Who seeing ENOCH so cast down, 
 
 They took him up so short ; 
 Said they " You are our prisoner, 
 
 So you must come to Court." 
 
 Said he, " I've got a ball inside," 
 He did not mean to scoff - 
 
 " I'll go to Court, and you may then 
 Present and let me off." 
 
 *' No, no ! " replied the Boatswain's mate,. 
 
 " Avast a bit, my hearty ! 
 Let's see the ball" but as he spoke, 
 
 They saw another party. 
 
 A party of Militia-men, 
 
 An officer therewith ; 
 In camp he was a Corporal JONES, 
 
 In town a general smith. 
 
 This Corporal had a warlike nose, 
 
 Gunpowdery in hue ; 
 It Trumpeted his honours, but 
 
 It could not beat tattoo. 
 
 For ENOCH'S face was lined throughout 
 
 "With ornamental scars 
 Of blue, with red ones added in 
 
 The Taranaki wars.
 
 81 
 
 The first were cunning chisel marks, 
 
 The second, crooked ruts ; 
 Proofs, like the Witness journal, of 
 
 Essays on Gold, with cuts. 
 
 This JONES took ENOCH to the camp, 
 
 Where were a number more 
 Of Maoris, whom his comrades bold 
 
 Made prisoners before. 
 
 The General stood in front of them, 
 
 As upright as a larch ; 
 And, though November was the month, 
 
 He sent them off to march. 
 
 He sent them all on board a hulk, 
 
 Abreast of Auckland town : 
 He put them down the hold, and bade 
 
 The soldiers hold them down. 
 
 Some snivelled, going in ; some howled; 
 
 Some noses blew, with bellows ; 
 But careful keeping in the hulk, 
 
 Soon made them hulking fellows. 
 
 Potatoes, bread, and milk, and meat, 
 Such was their commissariat. 
 
 Tobacco, to assuage their woe ; 
 And Doctor's stuff, to vary it. 
 
 At first they wanted bracing up, 
 Their clothes so hung about ; 
 
 But when they'd been a month on board, 
 They wanted letting out. 
 
 And so they got a run a-shore, 
 For souls' and bodies' profit, 
 
 On KAWAU'S copper beach. Of course, 
 They cut their sticks from off it.
 
 82 
 
 For TITUS WHITE who guarded them, 
 
 He left them on the shore ; 
 Says he, " They've got no boat, nor gear, 
 
 Except the copper ore ; 
 
 " Therefore, they cannot leave the Isle." 
 
 And at his joke he laughed ; 
 But, silly TITUS WHITE ! he quite 
 
 Forgot their native craft. 
 
 And so by night they ran away, 
 
 And got upon the main. 
 And in the morning TITUS went 
 
 To fetch them back again. 
 
 At last he found them on a hill, 
 
 All fortified about. 
 They hollowed rifle pits within ; 
 
 And WHITE he holloaed out. 
 
 And at his shout, so loud and long 
 
 It was a wondrous sight 
 Two hundred dusky faces, then, 
 
 Were turned at once to WHITE. 
 
 " Come back " he cried " my prisoners !" 
 
 Each hand directly rose, 
 And, with extended fingers, gave 
 
 Point to their silent noes. 
 
 * l Come back unto your Governor ; 
 
 He will avenge your slights. 
 For GBET'S the only medium 
 
 Between the Blacks and Whites." 
 
 Said they " No, no ! that's very fine ; 
 
 But GREY will never do. 
 He is not black enough for us 
 
 Nor white enough for you."
 
 83 
 
 Said WHITE " You are his children dear, 
 And don't he love you, rather ? 
 
 So be advised, and leave your pa, 
 And come unto your father." 
 
 " Perhaps," they said, " we were his sons, 
 
 But now we're better nursed. 
 We're Koyal Maori Infantry, 
 
 And will see him farther first." 
 
 Now TITUS WHITE was puzzled quite, 
 
 And knew not what to say ; 
 So went and told his tale, so blue, 
 
 Unto his head, SIR GREY. 
 
 " Go back, go back," replied his chief, 
 With sternness on his tongue, 
 
 " They are our rebel prisoners, 
 Deserving to be huug. 
 
 " But tell them " here he smiled so sly 
 " To make them come the quicker, 
 
 I'll heap upon them chains of land 
 And keep them tight in liquor." 
 
 So TITUS WHITE went back to tell 
 
 His chief's determination ; 
 With Native Office notes which formed 
 
 A very i'ree translation. 
 
 " I and SIE GEORGE, we love you well, 
 
 Like brothers of your race. 
 We'll swear we do, till we're as black 
 
 As you are in the face. 
 
 " You shall be found in meat and drink, 
 
 Houses and gardens too ; 
 And make believe you're prisoners, 
 
 By having nought to do."
 
 84 
 
 " Give land ! " they said, " 'Tie all our own. 
 
 Do nought ; we do it now ! 
 Give meat ! We shan't be hungry while 
 
 A settler owns a cow. 
 
 " But if you must have prisoners, 
 
 You'll soon accomplish that : 
 Catch them when starving, and you may 
 
 Detain them till they're fat. 
 
 " Treat them like us, and do again 
 
 The same good natured thing ; 
 Eecruit the Maori forces for 
 
 His MAJESTY THE KING." 
 
 C. W.
 
 APPENDIX.
 
 87 
 Song More Session (1865.; (* 
 
 (WITH MR. PUNCH'S ACKNOWLEDGMENTS TO THE LONDON 
 " CHARIVABI.") 
 
 Session is coming, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 _L The Session is coming, oh dear ! 
 
 Will there be any fun 
 
 Shot with our witty gun ? 
 In the Council preserves this year ! 
 
 The Super is coming, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 The Super is coming, oh dear ! 
 
 With pellucid diction, 
 
 Some fact and some fiction, 
 To make up a tale of the year. 
 
 Big Rolleston's coming, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 Big Rolleston's coming, oh dear ! 
 
 With stiffest of phrases 
 
 Soliciting praises 
 For cutting off hospital beer. 
 
 Johnny Hall is coming, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 Johnny Hall is coming, oh dear ! 
 
 To wade through the puddle 
 
 Of his "West Coast muddle : 
 With an Act to make the way clear. 
 
 Moorhouse is coming, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 Moorhouse is coming, oh dear! 
 
 Involved, egotistical, *' 
 
 Forcible, mystical 
 Speeches more happy than clear.
 
 Herr Tancred is coining, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 Herr Tancred is corning, oh dear ! 
 
 To prove education 
 
 Is best for the nation, 
 Enforced by a tax and a jeer. 
 
 Murray-Aynsley is coming, oh dear, oh dear! 
 Murray- Aynsley is coming, oh dear ! 
 
 In commerce and shipping 
 
 He won't be found tripping ; 
 He'll tell them much more than they'll hear. 
 
 George Buckley is coming, oh dear, oh dear! 
 George Buckley is coming, oh dear ! 
 
 Great Melbourne parading, 
 
 Its tricks and its trading ; 
 He wants us to copy it here. 
 
 Dr. Turnbull is coining, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 
 Dr. Turnbull is coming, oh dear ! 
 With language jocose 
 
 ' He'll exhibit a dose 
 To make all the members feel queer. 
 
 Old Shand, he is coming, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 Old Shand, he is coming, oh dear ! 
 
 To cock up his bristles 
 
 At spreading of thistles, 
 If Government won't interfere. 
 
 Little Fyfe is coming, oh dear, oh dear 
 
 Little Fyfe is coming, oh dear ! 
 
 . To know on what principle, 
 
 Interest Municipal 
 Must suffer for money this year.
 
 The Nabob is coming, oh dear, oh dear! 
 The Nabob is coming, oh dear ! 
 With Indian story, 
 In which all the glory 
 "Was gained by a gent from Cashmere. 
 
 Mr. Ross isn't coming, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 Mr. Ross isn't coming, oh dear ! 
 Charming propriety, 
 Grave to satiety, 
 Where shall we find his compeer ? 
 
 Mr. Jlowe may be coming, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 Mr. Rowe may be corning, oh dear ! 
 To present a petition, 
 And make requisition 
 For money to lengthen a pier. 
 
 -Ollivier's coming, oh dear, oh dear! 
 Ollivier's coming, oh dear ! 
 Of place he's no seeker, 
 So make him the Speaker, 
 To cut off long speeches on beer. 
 
 Cabbage Wilson ia coming, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 Cabbage Wilson is coming, oh dear ! 
 With speech softly flowing, 
 Ten to one he'll be blowing 
 'Of the wonderful pile he's made here. 
 
 Joe Beswick is coming, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 Joe Beswick is coming, oh dear ! 
 
 To yawn in Committee, 
 
 And think what a pity 
 The Bills are so long and so drear.
 
 90 
 
 John Peacock is coining, oh dear, oh dear \ 
 John Peacock is coming, oh dear ! 
 
 So bashfully shrewd. 
 
 And so pleasantly rude, 
 His speeches are short, but they're queer. 
 
 Mark Stoddart is coming, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 Mark Stoddurtis coming, oh dear ! 
 
 He'll be sure to look out 
 
 For a grant for some trout, 
 And nice little salmon to rear. 
 
 The Majors are coming, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 The Majors are coming, oh dear 1 
 To take care of their runs, 
 And to beg for big guns ; 
 Amen, say each gay Volunteer. 
 
 Geraldine he is coming, oh dear, oh dear ! 
 Geraldine he is coming, oh dear ! 
 
 With much hesitation 
 
 .About separation, 
 Uncertain which course he shall steer. 
 
 Mr. Punch is coming, look out, look out ! 
 Mr. Punch is coming, look out ! 
 With his baton to whack 
 Every silly one's back, 
 And make them mind what they're about. 
 
 VABIOBUIC. 
 
 OEhat Docs Eamgct flouts Sag ? ( 2 ) 
 
 (A MILD BEMOX8TRANCE FROM AS UNI.EAKNBD MAN.) 
 
 I USED to lead a happy life, 
 For many a merry year ; 
 My days were spent apart from strife, 
 Mv nights without a fear.
 
 9L 
 
 My world has been a world of play ; 
 
 And I, a child of song. 
 But what does Lawyer Louis say ? 
 
 " All's altogether wrong." 
 
 I lived a peaceful citizen ; 
 
 Paid every rate and tax ; 
 And only growled if, now and 'then, 
 
 Collectors would'nt wait. 
 I always thought I had to pay, 
 
 Because the law was strong. 
 But what does Lawyer Louis say ? 
 
 " That's altogether wrong." 
 
 I loved a blithe and beauteous lass ; 
 
 A gentle " Tes " she said. 
 Love made the moments quickly pass, 
 
 Till Bess and I were wed. 
 We thought that we were bound that day 
 
 For all our lifetime long. 
 But what does Lawyer Louis say ? 
 
 " That's altogether wrong." 
 
 I bought a little piece of land, 
 
 And built our humble cot ; 
 A happy future Hie we planned, 
 
 And blessed our rural lot. 
 I thought, perhaps these acres may 
 
 Unto my heirs belong. 
 But what does Lawyer Louis say ? 
 
 " That's altogether wrong." 
 
 I'll leave my land, I'll leave my home, 
 
 I'll leave my loving wife ; 
 Through savage foreign lands I'll roam, 
 
 And lead a lawless life. 
 This world's no more a world of play, 
 
 Nor I a child of song ; 
 For what does Lawyer Louis say ? 
 
 " All's altogether wrong." C. W.
 
 92 
 
 $urserg ftfjomes for political Babies. ( s ) 
 
 TTUSHABT BEALEY ! O'er the hill top ; 
 XI When the road's made, in office you'll stop : 
 When the road isn't made, people will bawl, 
 " Down with the Government, Bealey and all !" 
 
 ii. 
 
 GOVERNOR GRKY 
 
 Has little to say, 
 Since we sent Freddy Weld to mind him ; 
 
 Don't let him alone, 
 
 And he'll go home, 
 And leave all his blunders behind him. 
 
 c. w. 
 
 S 
 
 Eto'tum of tfje !fc?istato of the $cto Enlano 
 
 IE DUNCAN CAMERON, with ten thous;uil men, 
 Came out from Home, and then went back again. 
 
 S Bequest on the 8attlc=ficttj. 
 
 (ADJUSTED FROM SIB WALTER SCOTT.) 
 
 /CHARGE, BEALEY, charge ! On, Moorhouse, on ! 
 \J Were the last words of Rolleston. 
 
 &omt of the Effecting 3tobentute0 of Poor ocfc (ZTr.nterburgC*) 
 
 JL NBW BUBDBK TO AW OLD LAY.) 
 
 WHO is the Governor ? 
 I am, says Punch, 
 With my wallet and hunch, 
 I am the Governor !
 
 93 
 
 Who is the Superintendent? 
 I am, says Bealev, 
 
 yes, I think really 
 That I'm the Superintendent. 
 
 Who juggles the finances ? 
 
 1 do, says Hall, 
 With my cup and ball. 
 
 I juggle the finances. 
 
 Who won't pay the charwoman? 
 
 I won't, says Eolleston ; 
 
 I've banished the holystone, 
 And I won't pay the charwoman. 
 
 Who snubs the schoolmasters? 
 I do, says Tancred, 
 For authority I hankered, 
 
 So I snub the schoolmasters. 
 
 Who'll win the Eakaia ? 
 I will, says Stevens, 
 At odds and at evens, 
 
 I'll win the Eakaia. 
 
 Who'll sell the diggers '? 
 
 I will, says Sale ; 
 
 You may go bail, 
 I'll sell the diners . 
 
 Who'll build a tramway 
 I will, says White, 
 Oh, blow* me tight! 
 
 I'll build a tramway.
 
 94 
 
 Who'll furnish the money ? 
 
 "We will, says the Executive ; 
 
 By instalments consecutive, 
 "We'll furnish the money. 
 
 Who'll bamboozle the People ? 
 
 I will, says the Press ; 
 
 You must confess 
 I can bamboozle the People. 
 
 Song. 
 
 MAKE the road, Johnny, my dear Johnny ! 
 Make the road Johnny, my little man ! 
 Anywhere, anyhow, over the mountains ; 
 Do it as quickly, my boy, as you can. 
 
 We are all of us longing, my dear Johnny ! 
 
 Everything everywhere is all awry. 
 If you cannot save us, my little manny, 
 
 Somebody else must have a try. 
 
 No doubt you'll do it ; that's if you choose to ; 
 
 Nobody doubts your powers a bit. 
 But do it smartly, my little Johnny, 
 
 Or soon I'll be writing your hie jacet. 
 
 302ctue of ^robinctal dTounci . 
 
 O OLE MN body ! Sacred f-pot ! 
 lO Lukewarm ; neither coJd nor hot. 
 Clerk, half nodding, drops a blot. 
 Opposition talking rot, 
 How the country goes to pot.
 
 95 
 
 Government, regarding not, 
 Driving on their old jog-trot. 
 Members, independent lot, 
 Sitting, caring not a jot ; 
 Voting, for they know not what, 
 Money that they have'nt got. 
 Solemn body ! Sacred spot ! 
 
 Eollcston's Jareradl. ( 5 ) 
 
 AIR " Good-bye, Sweetheart." 
 
 TlHE steam is up ; the engine's starting. 
 As you will venture down the line, 
 The time has come, my mates for parting; ; 
 
 You on your carriage, I on mine. 
 For if your necks you must be breaking, 
 
 I won't go with you ; no. not I. 
 My donkey cart and leave I'm taking ; 
 Good-bye, my mates, good-bye ! 
 
 You used to vow to me you wouldn't 
 
 Attempt such fast designs at all. 
 You used to swear you would be prudent, 
 
 And never climb lest you might fall. 
 But now for public favour striving, 
 
 You won't have me for your ally : 
 I'd rather our old cart be driving, 
 
 Good-bye, my mates, good-bye ? 
 
 JOHN HALL, he leads a happy life, 
 In Government Buildings free from strife; 
 Supreme o'er Eoad Boards there he rules, 
 And works his will with other tools.
 
 9(5 
 
 His power can give us Ruads to go 
 To the West Coast or Jericho ; 
 Or if it likes him not, he'll stay 
 All traffic to the River Grey. 
 
 With bridges he our rivers spans, 
 Accepts or vetos people's plans ; 
 New Public Office schemes directs, 
 And costly railway lines selects. 
 
 The Public Works 'tis his to sway, 
 With Mandate none dare disobey ; 
 His place would suit me I opine, 
 I would John Hall's high lot were mine. 
 
 But stay he's not a happy man, 
 To please all parties he must plan ! 
 The Super soothe, cajole colleagues, 
 And suffer other hard fatigues ! 
 
 From the Super's whims he must keep clear, 
 And with his friends in office steer ; 
 His Bills the Council may o'erhaul ; 
 No ! No ! I would not be John Hall. 
 
 Sam Bealey's lot more pleaseth me ; 
 
 He hath a handsome salary 
 
 To live in dignified repose, 
 
 While Hall and Rolleston prate and prose. 
 
 He has no nerve 'tis very true, 
 Bad to prevent, or good to do : 
 But as he hath no nerve, why he 
 Escapes responsibility.
 
 97 
 
 "Which way the Goldfield's road shall go, 
 He need not settle "Yes " or " No." 
 He's free to sleep if so inclined, 
 And never need make up his mind. 
 
 Yet Sam's is not a happy lot, 
 For he must stand the paper's shot ; 
 "Whose leaders, stinging and severe, 
 All with his bile may interfere. 
 
 And if the people's minds they jog, 
 The latter may tire of King Log ; 
 If out their money they must fork, 
 They might prefer to have King Stork, 
 
 So when on Sam the papers fall, 
 I think I'd rather be John Hall ; 
 But when Hall's budget's judged a flam, 
 "Why then of course I would be Sam. 
 
 JEfje P^usbanti's 3icuse. 
 
 MY dear, you reproach me for keeping your note, 
 Forgotten, for four or five days, in my coat ; 
 But remember, my love, when you're railing the most, 
 That I never was made to be bored as a post. 
 
 E.T. 
 
 2E!)c Cur auto tlje Calf. 
 
 IN the pleasant town of Christchurch not so long ago did 
 dwell, 
 
 An actor, who, as actor's go, was something of a swell ; 
 Caressed by gods and managers, he dwelt among the stars, 
 And everyone who heard him loved the rolling of his E's.
 
 98 
 
 Full grave was liis demeanour, as a tragic actor suits, 
 He stood six feet, or thereabouts, in rather high-heeled 
 
 boots. 
 
 A hat he wore with tragic slouch, and knickerbockers too, 
 As eminent tragedians occasionally do. 
 
 Since all men, whether streets they sweep, or senate houses 
 
 grace, 
 
 Have each their little weakness in some vulnerable place, 
 So, like a horse at auction that in vain a buyer begs, 
 Our hero's little weakness, to confess it, was his legs. 
 
 In sooth they were a comely pair. 0, would that such 
 
 were mine ! 
 
 I'd wear a natty leathern shoe, and worsted hosen fine. 
 All gallantly I'd saunter round, or casually stand, 
 And envy ne'er a Bishop's calves in all this happy land. 
 
 One day, as all pre-occupied he strolled along the street, 
 He chanced upon a sleeping cur that, full of stolen meat, 
 "With head and tongue and tail outstretched, lay dreaming 
 
 on the stones, 
 Pursuing visionary cats and gnawing phantom bones. 
 
 Unwary on the tail he trod, right heavily and fair ; 
 The sort of thing you can't expect the mildest dog to bear. 
 So e'er the cur went flying from a well-directed kick, 
 One fatal bite had caught his leg and torn the hosen thick. 
 
 Yet haughtily our hero hied on in stately trim, 
 Unconscious of the stream that flowed adown the wounded 
 
 limb. 
 
 Till from the crowd a cad aloud exclaimed in tones of scorn 
 " Yy, Guvnor ! vot's the matter with them patent legs 
 
 o' your'n ?
 
 99 
 
 He starts, he stops, he looketh round, he turneth ghastly 
 
 pale 
 
 Along the pavement far he sees the sawdust's deadly trail. 
 One curse he gives, one bound he takes, he runs with 
 
 might and main, 
 And nevermore in Christchurch was that actor seen again. 
 
 Quite lately in Australia, among dramatic stars, 
 I met a tall man, given much to dwelling on his R's ; 
 But 1 noticed he wore trousers, so cannot be the same 
 As one who several years ago was lost to Christchurch 
 fame. 
 
 E. 
 
 OH, the charms of a stroll in our nice little port, 
 When the crowds of new-comers are thronging :i shore. 
 As we gaze on the victims our agent has caught, 
 We declare that we never can want any more ! 
 
 " Ha, ha !" says a station man, raising his veil, 
 " There's a couple, they'll suit me exact to a hri,- ; 
 
 " When they're settled a bit, I'll go up without fail, 
 " And engage them for fifty ; that's lots for the pair." 
 
 And there jogs the farmer, who, six years ago, 
 
 Disconsolate landed with never a bob. 
 He is come from the plains for a bumpkin or two, 
 
 And looks a great swell on the back of his cob. 
 
 There's my lady, too, riding upon her grey mare 
 The servant turned " Missis !" as big as you please. 
 
 " Oh, how wulgar," she minces, "Them ship people are ; 
 " But I s'ppose I must have one in spite of the fleas."
 
 100 
 
 And list to those gossips " The good time is come, 
 " And we've plenty : so lately in piteous case 
 
 " They'll be only too glad, for a moderate sum, 
 
 ' To be nursemaid or cook, in our nice little place." 
 
 " All right," cries an old hand, who looks on the scene, 
 " But I guess you will soon sing a different song ; 
 
 " And those folks, who are certainly not very clean, 
 
 " Though they're down in the mouth now, they won't be 
 BO long." 
 
 Ah, wizard ! you've given the tables a turn ; 
 
 See, those whity-brown faces are flushing with pride ; 
 And we're the poor folks who must wash, sweep, and churn, 
 
 Or eat humble pie, as we stand by their side. 
 
 There's our sturdy up-country man down on his knees : 
 Or at least, he's a look that he ought to be there. 
 
 " Oh, if fifty won't do, you may have what you please ; 
 " Only come for a little, and try what we are." 
 
 And our very fine lady, who must have a " gall." 
 Though I'm certain she'd really be better without 
 
 " Will thirty, will forty pounds do, Miss ? You shall 
 " Have an evening whenever you like to go out." 
 
 And how do our poor simple gossips appear, 
 
 As they range through the room not at all at their ease ? 
 
 And 'mid a loud whisper of " What do they here ?" 
 Very humbly petition for help, " if you please." 
 
 " A cook's place," cries one, " Well, perhaps, it might do ; 
 
 " But you know I've been servant with forty and nine! 
 " Well, what do you give ?" " Five-and-twenty for you, 
 
 " Who are strong and can work hard." " Then I must 
 decline."
 
 101 
 
 " Five-and-twenty, indeed !" and she turned cm her heel, 
 With a bounce that nigh frightened our gossips to fits. 
 
 " I suppose they don't think that young ladies can feel ? 
 " And fancy we land here without any wits." 
 
 And what is the moral ? Away with your tears ! 
 
 Don the apron of freedom, and dust your own shelves ! 
 Spend the wonderful wages on pin money, dears, 
 
 Leave the ladies alone, and be servants yourselves. 
 
 f)E East Jig of Summer. 
 
 jrrlS the last fly of Summer, 
 
 _|_ Left droning alone ; 
 All his lively companions 
 
 Are frozen and gone. 
 No fly of his kindred, 
 
 No blue bottle's nigh, 
 That can tickle one's bald head, 
 
 Or fall in one's pie. 
 
 I'll not leave thee, thou lone one, 
 
 To pine on the pane ! 
 Join thy wretched companions, 
 
 All frozen and slain ! 
 Thus nimbly I seize thee, 
 
 And dash thee to ground ; 
 Where thy mates of the ceiling 
 
 Lie trodden and drowned. 
 
 So peaceful I'll join in 
 
 Each meal of the day, 
 And bless the cold weather 
 
 That drives ye away. 
 If summers were constant, 
 
 And winters unknown, 
 Oh ! who would live here, 
 
 To be always fly-blown ?
 
 102 
 Constable "3E." 
 
 *A TBTTB STOET. 
 
 DEDICATED (WITHOUT PERMISSION) TO THE CHBISTCHTTBCH 
 POLICE FOBCB. 
 
 B EIGHT glittered the buttons of Constable E, 
 And bright was his intellect stated to be, 
 But dark were his whiskers, his uniform too, 
 And the tips of his finger-nails sable in hue, 
 And darker the looks from which criminals flee, 
 When darted upon them by Constable E. 
 
 One morning in autumn, a local inspector, 
 
 Head sergeant, detective, or other director, 
 
 Told Constable E. to betake himself down 
 
 To a nursery-garden not far from the town ; 
 
 Whose owner complained that the larrikins near 
 
 Ne'er left him an apple, a peach, or a pear ; 
 
 !For what sparrow and moth uncorrupted left whole, 
 
 These thieves, as the Scriptures say, broke in and stole. 
 
 Our Constable's bosom swelled big at the thought, 
 
 " If I don't catch thim thaves it's meself should be coaart ; 
 
 Though the owner's away it's not I'll be afraid, 
 
 If that nursery-garden a nursery-maid 
 
 Should eontiin, by th.3 pow'r3 'twill be foiner, He ! He ! " 
 
 And he chuckled that gallant Hibernian E. 
 
 His uniform doffed, (whereat somewhat he sighed), 
 In a neat suit of tweeds to the orchard he hied : 
 Not a nursery-man, not a nursery-maid, 
 Not a thief nor his shadow the girden displayed : 
 Quoth he, as he stooped through the branches to push, 
 " Sure no Bobby before had his beat in a bush ! "
 
 103 
 
 But alas for our merry young catcher of thieves, 
 As he cautiously peered through an apple tree's leaves, 
 Something struck in his face, and he found as he rose 
 He had caught neat as ninepence a hook in his nose, 
 In an Irishman's face no appropriate thing, 
 Though Irish bulls wear them at times or a ring. 
 
 Eunning-in was his art, and he'd done this so well, 
 
 No pickpocket ever caught easing a swell 
 
 Of his handkerchief, watch, or superfluous tin, 
 
 Had been, than the hook, more securely run in. 
 
 " Oh, I came on my own hook, and now it's on me ! " 
 
 And he called not on heaven poor Constable E! 
 
 Now hard by the garden a dog did abide, 
 
 Who was loose in his ways, for he seldom was tied : 
 
 You'd own if awake on a midsummer night, 
 
 That his bark was, if possible, worse than his bite ; 
 
 Though he never sat down, yet, a stranger to greet, 
 
 This singular dog often made for a seat. 
 
 So hearing E call on the devil and all, 
 
 The dog very properly answered the call ; 
 
 And seeing a thief, as he thought, standing there, 
 
 Attacked him with zest in the flank and the rear, 
 
 Abetted therein by the gardener's boy, 
 
 Who aided the fun with such infinite joy 
 
 That he laughed till he cried in his culpable glee, 
 
 As " Take the daa-g aff now," yelled Constable E. 
 
 When a fish bites the hook, his condition is sad, 
 
 But at once to be bitten and hooked is too bad : 
 
 More rents in a minute on E did appear, 
 
 Than a landlord cf Erin collects in a year ; 
 
 He couldn't turn round with the hook in his nose, 
 
 And he couldn't stand still with the teeth in his clothes, 
 
 And what would have happened I'm puzzled to say, 
 
 When the packthread attached to the fishhook gave way.
 
 104 
 
 What followed will never, I fancy, appear, 
 Since of dog nor of boy have I managed to hear ; 
 How E got to town, too, I'd much like to know, 
 But this I can say : When he reached the depot, 
 No man e'er looked muddier, bloodier, paler, 
 Or a goodlier subject for doctor or tailor. 
 
 Detectives who boast an adventurous vein, 
 In uniforms handsome or suits that are plain, 
 If you haven't a fancy for mud on your clothes, 
 One tail to your coat, and a hook in your nose, 
 If from dogs and disasters alike you'd be free, 
 Pray study the story of Constable E. 
 
 IL 
 
 Charlotte GtftUp'a mttt. ( 6 ) 
 
 THE packhorse wends his way, 
 From Lyttelton over the hill. 
 But oh ! for that tank of the red red stone, 
 And a drink from that trickling rill ! 
 Prate ! Prate ! Prate ! 
 Of thy Public Works John Hall ! 
 But that ruin of mud on the mountain side 
 Shall be type of thy speedy fall. 
 
 Oh, well for the stockdriver's cob, 
 
 For the creek where he quenches his thirst ! 
 Oh, well, oh, well, for old Redman's Bob, 
 At the trough he may drink till he burst. 
 Prate ! Prate ! Prate ! 
 Of thy Public Works, John Hall ! 
 But the graceful gift of a friend that is gone,, 
 Is none of thy care at all.
 
 105 
 
 of the 
 
 (BY ONE OF THEMSELVES.) 
 
 OH ! it's of the hackney carriages 
 I'm going for to sing, sir ; 
 We're licensed now for marriages, 
 
 And all that sort of thing, sir. 
 The Council gives a character 
 
 Unto each driving cabby ; 
 And 'tis a certain fact, sir, 
 "We wouldn't cheat a babby. 
 With my f ol lol the cabby, 
 And my fol-lol the ray ! 
 
 This here is a four-wheeler neat, 
 
 And there's my nobby Hansom. 
 There's other cabbies down the street, 
 
 But you better hadn't chance 'em. 
 Look in, sir, here's the cleanest straw; 
 
 You'll find the cushions dusted ; 
 Oh ! I'm a man what knows the law, 
 
 And allays may be trusted. 
 With my fol-lol the cabby, 
 And his fol-lol the ray ! 
 
 Hi ! Cab, sir ? Hi ! now just step in : 
 
 If you've business to transact, sir, 
 I'll drive you there, and back again, 
 
 Accordin' to the Hact, sir. 
 The Council's fixed the fares, d'ye see, 
 
 For plying round the city ; 
 The Inspector's down on us, or he 
 
 '11 be sacked by the committee. 
 With his fol-lol the cabby, 
 And his fol-lol the rav !
 
 106 
 
 But if mayhap you've just come down 
 
 From Borne up-country station, 
 I'll drive you round and round the town, 
 
 And guard you from temptation ; 
 And charge, per hour, ten bob at most; 
 
 And that's the lowest pricej since 
 The Council's been and raised the cost 
 
 By sticking on a license. 
 "With fol-lol the cabby, 
 And their fol-lol the ray ! 
 
 The law, its werry well, in course, 
 
 For any other cabby, 
 What doesn't care to groom his horse, 
 
 And turns out awful shabby. 
 But I don't want no law, not I, 
 
 Nor Inspector's interference ; 
 You'd pick me, in a hundred, by 
 
 My personal appearance. 
 With my fol-lol the cabby, 
 And my fol-lol the ray ! 
 
 The Council at our money grabs, 
 
 And makes us fork the fivers ; 
 They goes in now for moral cabs, 
 
 And literary drivers. 
 And lor ! the law is awful tight, 
 
 Down on all little larking ; 
 But mind, we doesn't find its bite 
 
 For nothing like its barking. 
 At the fol-lol the cabby, 
 And the fol-lol the ray ! 
 
 isr.5.
 
 107 
 
 Commercial Summarg for 3ntjlanfc. 
 
 OUR markets are extremely dull, 
 For trade is looking flat ; 
 Merchants, more cautious than of late, 
 Are minding what they're at. 
 
 For discount interest is felt, 
 
 And cash is most unready ; 
 But though the money market's TIGHT, 
 
 'Tis very firm and steady. 
 
 Fat cattle do not stir with ease, 
 
 As recent sales will prove ; 
 And stations are quite station 'ry, 
 
 And difficult to move. 
 
 A moderate share of failures have 
 
 Occurred the month around, 
 With moderated dividends 
 
 Of nothing in the pound. 
 
 Bulk beer was strong all through the week, 
 
 Light ale is going out ; 
 Porter clears off the market well ; 
 
 There's heavy sale for stout. 
 
 The painful state of glass forbids 
 
 A look at it at all ; 
 While frames and sashps run to waste, 
 
 And figure very small. 
 
 Best I. C. &us;ar now, I see, 
 
 Is estimated high ; 
 Loaf's reached its very lowest point, 
 
 Crushed loaf doth lowlv lie.
 
 108 
 
 Old Tom creeps slowly out of store ; 
 
 Hops operate but badly ; 
 Matches will not go off at all, 
 
 And saddlery looks sadly. 
 
 Brandies of late some strength have shown 
 
 Hum holds a queerish place ; 
 For whiskeys, spirit is displayed ; 
 
 But gin's in harder case. 
 
 For flour, wheat, oats, and other grain, 
 
 Consumption shows decline ; 
 For salt, large sellers fine have sold ; 
 
 The sale of coarse is fine. 
 
 For deals, the deals, the dealers say, 
 
 Can scarcely show a line ; 
 While birch is backward in demand, 
 
 The sale of larch does pine. 
 
 Capers are lively ; salmon dead ; 
 
 Kope hangs on hand too long ; 
 Shipments of butter come in pat ; 
 
 And Cheshire cheese is strong. 
 
 Till prices rise, and failures fail, 
 
 No cash the place can spare ; 
 But all consignments still will have 
 
 Our unremitting care. 
 
 THE seamen shout once and together, 
 The anchor breaks up from the ground, 
 And the ship's head swings to the weather, 
 To the wind and the sea swings round :
 
 109 
 
 With a clamour the great sail steadies, 
 In extreme of a storm scarce furled ; 
 
 Already a short wake eddies, 
 And a furrow is cleft aud curled 
 To the right and left. 
 
 About me, light-hearted or aching, 
 
 " Good-bye !" cry they all, taking hand 
 "What hand do I find worth taking ? 
 
 "What face as the face of the land ? 
 I will utter a farewell greater 
 
 Than any of friends in ships 
 I will leave on the forehead of Nature 
 
 The seal of a kiss let the lips 
 
 Of a song do this. 
 
 We part from the earth, from our mother, 
 
 Her bosom of milk and of sleep, 
 We deliver our lives to another, 
 
 To cast them away or to keep. 
 Many-mooded and merciless daughter, 
 
 Uncertain, strange, dangerous sea, 
 O tender and turbulent water ! 
 
 Make gentle thy strength, for in thee 
 
 We put trust for a length. 
 
 Float out from the harbour and highland 
 
 That hides all the region I know, 
 Let me look a last time on the island 
 
 Well seen from the sea to the snow. 
 The lines of the ranges I follow, 
 
 I travel the hills with my eyes, 
 For I know where they make a deep hollow, 
 
 A valley of grass and the r?se 
 
 Of streams clearer than glass.
 
 110 
 
 what am I leaving behind me ? 
 
 No sorrow with tears for its debt 
 No face that shall follow and find me 
 
 No friend to recall and regret 
 Thought shall raise up the ghosts of some faces,, 
 
 But not of the faces of men. 
 A voice out of fair forest places 
 
 Shall haunt me and call me, as when 
 
 I dwelt by them all. 
 
 Now my days leave the soft silent byway, 
 
 And clothed in a various sort, 
 In iron or gold, on the highway 
 
 New feet shall succeed, or stop short : 
 Shod hard these may be, or made splendid, 
 
 Fair and many, or evil and few, 
 But the going of bare feet has ended, 
 
 Of naked feet set in the new 
 
 Meadow grass sweet and wet. 
 
 1 will long for the ways of soft walking, 
 
 Grown tired of the dust and the glare, 
 And mute in the midst of much talking, 
 
 Will pine for the silences rare ; 
 Streets of peril and speech full of malice 
 
 Will recall me the pastures and peace 
 Which gardened and guarded those valleys 
 
 With grasses as high as the knees, 
 
 Calm as high as the sky. 
 
 As the soul, were the body made regal, 
 
 With pinions completed and light, 
 Majestic and swift as yon seagull, 
 
 Even now would 1 take a quick flight, 
 And my spirit of singing deliver 
 
 In the old hidden birthplace of song, 
 Sitting fast by the rapid you: g river 
 
 With trees overarched, by no strong 
 
 Sun or moon ever parched.
 
 Ill 
 
 A singing place fitter than vessel 
 
 Cold winds draw away to the sea, 
 Where many birds flutter and nestle 
 
 And come near and wonder at me, 
 "Where the bell-bird sets solitudes ringing : 
 
 Many times I have heard and thrown down 
 My lyre in despair of all singing ; 
 
 For things lovely what word is a crown 
 
 Like the song of a bird ? 
 
 That haunt it too far for me wingless, 
 
 And the hills of it sink out of sight, 
 Yet my thought were but broken and stringless, 
 
 And the daylight of song were but night, 
 If I could not at will a winged dream let 
 
 Lift me and take me and set 
 Me again by the trees and the streamlet ; 
 
 These leagues make a wide water, yet 
 
 The whole world shall not hide. 
 
 For the island secure in my spirit 
 
 At ease on its own ocean rides, 
 And Memory, a ship sailing near it, 
 
 Shall float in with favouring tides, 
 Shall enter the harbours and land me 
 
 To visit the gorges and heights 
 Whose aspects seemed once to command me, 
 
 As queens by their charms command knights 
 
 To achievements of arms. 
 
 And I will catch sight of their faces 
 
 Through the dust of the lists and the din, 
 In the sword-lit and perilous places 
 
 Tea, whether I lose or I win, 
 I will look to them, all being over, 
 
 Triumphant or trampled beneath, 
 I will turn to the isle like a lover, 
 
 To her evergreen brakes for a wreath, 
 
 For a tear to her lakes.
 
 112 
 
 The last of her now is a brightening 
 
 Far fire in the forested hills, 
 The breeze as the night nears is heightening, 
 
 The cordage draws tighter and thrills, 
 Like a horse that is spurred by the rider, 
 
 The great vessel quivers and quails, 
 And passes the billows beside her, 
 
 The fair -wind is strong in her sails, 
 
 She is lifted along. 
 
 When the zone and the latitude changes 
 
 A welcome of white cliffs shall be, 
 I shall cease to be sad for white ranges 
 
 Xow lost in the night and the sea : 
 But dipped deep in their clear flowing rivers 
 
 As a chalice my spirit shall weigh 
 With fair water that flickers and shivers, 
 
 Held up to the strong steady ray, 
 
 To the sunlight of song. 
 
 FBEDEEICK NAPIEB BECOME. 
 December, 1868. 
 
 STIjc Doctors' Dilemma. (") 
 
 AIB. " The Viear of Bray." 
 
 SCENE. A patient's bedside in the Hospital. 
 
 Enter two PHYSICIANS. 
 First PHYSICIAN to second ditto sings. 
 
 WHEN Officers of Health began, 
 To cope with typhoid fever, 
 I vowed I'd ne'er report a case 
 Of all that I took fee for.
 
 113 
 
 His pulse is quick his temperature 
 
 You need not record what the height is 
 
 But if he dies, be sure you say 
 'Twas gastro-enteritis. 
 
 (Both.) 
 
 And this is true we will maintain 
 
 No matter what the right is ; 
 That every sort of ache and pain 
 
 Is gastro-enteritis. 
 
 (To them enters third PHYSICIAN, examining the tongue of a Ligurian 
 bee under a microscope.) 
 
 (Sings.) 
 
 This case I cannot recollect 
 
 Apart from other cases, 
 But still I am prepared to swear 
 
 There were no typhoid traces ; 
 Phrenitis, in these far off lauds, 
 
 May spring from typhoid sources ; 
 And brains like tongues of bees may change 
 
 From " climacteric " causes. 
 
 CHOBUS of three PHYSICIANS : 
 
 Then this is true, we will maintain, 
 
 That if it's not phrenitis 
 Then every sort of ache and pain 
 
 Is gastro-enteritis. 
 
 (Enter fourth and fifth PHYSICIANS with attendants bearing on a 
 stretcher the body of a man who has just fallen off the Cathedral 
 tower.) 
 
 IST PHTS. A hopeless case the skull is smashed. 
 PHTS. The brain is full of mortar.
 
 ill 
 
 SRD PHTS. The neck ig fractured, and the ribs 
 
 Forced in upon the aorta. 
 
 4xH PHYS. The left leg see is crushed to pulp 
 And nobody knows where the right is. 
 
 ALL Mere trifles these real cause of death 
 
 Was gastro-enteritis. 
 
 CHOEUS of five PHYSICIANS : 
 
 Then this is true, we will maintain, 
 
 That if it's not phrenitis 
 Then every sort oE ache and pain 
 
 Is GASTEO-ENTEEITIS. 
 
 {Music Agitato. Enter CHOBITS of UKBCBIED GHOSTS flourishing 
 death-certificates in their hands.) 
 
 GHOSTS singing : 
 
 Oh ! what shall we do 
 
 We can't get through 
 To the other side of Cocytus ; 
 
 And it's all along 
 
 Of your coming it strong 
 With your gastro-enteritis. 
 
 FIRST GHOST (solo). 
 
 I certainly died 
 
 Of something inside, 
 But is " it rite " to enter, 
 
 On this here ticket 
 
 Of leave to old Nick ; it 
 Was only a pain in my " venter." * 
 
 *For the benefit of the country gentlemen, as they say in the House of Commons, 
 we will translate. Castro-enteritis means a bad sort of stomach-ache. Venter IF the 
 Latin for stomach. The Ghost baa evidently moved in polite Society, and shrinks 
 from using the homely English word.
 
 115 
 
 SECOND GHOST (solo.) 
 
 And I quite disagrees 
 
 With that doctor of bees, 
 (Though he took his oath upon it ) 
 
 That it's no matter what 
 
 A poor chap's got, 
 It's only a " bee in his bonnet." 
 
 CHORUS. 
 Oh ! what shall we do, &c., &c. 
 
 Exeunt PHYSICIANS pursued by GHOSTS 
 
 F. W. II. 
 
 Charge at 
 
 T7"ET a league, yet a league 
 JL Yet a league onward, 
 Straight to the Maori Pah 
 
 Marched the Twelve Hundred. 
 " Forward the Volunteers ! 
 Is there a man who fears ? " 
 Over the ferny plain 
 
 Marched the Twelve Hundred ! 
 
 " Forward ! " the Colonel said ; 
 Was there a man dismayed ? 
 No, for the heroes knew 
 
 There icas no danger. 
 Their's not to reckon why, 
 Their's not to bleed or die, 
 Their's but to trample by: 
 
 Each dauntless ranger ! 
 
 Pressmen to right of them, 
 Pressmen to left of them, 
 Pressmen in front of them, 
 Chuckled and wondered.
 
 116 
 
 Dreading their country's eyes, 
 Long was the search and wise, 
 Vain, for the pressmen five 
 Had, by a slight device, 
 
 Foiled the Twelve Hundred. 
 
 Gleamed all their muskets bare > 
 Fright'ning the children there, 
 Heroes to do and dare, 
 Charging a village, while 
 
 Maoridom wondered. 
 Plunged in potato fields, 
 Honour to hunger yields. 
 Te Whiti and Tonu 
 Bearing not swords or shields, 
 Questioned nor wondered, 
 Calmly before them sat ; 
 
 Faced the Twelve Hundred. 
 
 Children to right of them, 
 Children to left of them, 
 Women in front of them, 
 
 Saw them and wondered ; 
 Stormed at with jeer and groan, 
 Foiled by the five alone, 
 Never was trumpet blown 
 
 O'er such a deed of arms. 
 Back with their captives three 
 Taken so gallantly, 
 
 Eode the Twelve Hundred. 
 
 When can their glory fade ? 
 Oh ! the wild charge they made, 
 
 New Zealand wondered 
 "Whether each doughty soul, 
 Paid for the pigs he stole : 
 
 Ivoble Twelve Hundred ! 
 
 JAJS-ETTE.
 
 117 
 a 3Lag of a Host Spec. (*} 
 
 TpHERE stands a city on the plain by the South Pacific 
 _L shore, 
 
 A town as fair as any " City on the Plains " of yore : 
 To North and South, and East and "West, its busy streets 
 
 extend 
 
 In strict arid straight monotony, without a break or bend, 
 Save where, half way 'twixt Morten's huts and Warner's 
 
 Paphian bar, 
 
 The great Cathedral lifts its spire, a beacon from afar. 
 Dear to the heart of Mountfort is the sweet aesthetic spot 
 Where that tall tower proclaims to all how he " improved " 
 
 on Scott ! 
 
 Dear to the heart of Lingard that dissonant refrain 
 "When the ringers clang their discords out with all their 
 
 might and main : 
 
 Dear to the heart of Jacobs is that sweet and pious peal, 
 As from the holy fane the notes of " Annie Laurie " steal ; 
 And dear to all good citizens that centre of their town, 
 Where each recurring tram reveals the form of Evans 
 
 Brown. 
 
 Yet is there one fair spot beside, within the city's ring, 
 
 Where more than all, of young and old, the fond affections 
 cling, 
 
 That wide expanse of verdant turf, those pleasant bosky 
 shades 
 
 Whose whispering boughs hear tender vows to timid love- 
 sick maids ; 
 
 Where stalwart youngsters wield the bat ; where o'er their 
 ashy round, 
 
 In all but utter naked grace Ollivier's athletes bound ; 
 
 Where Armstrong, foe to lawless love, with mighty toil 
 and pain, 
 
 Is always planting trees by scores, and cuts them down 
 a sain :
 
 118 
 
 Where Harman of the iron will rules like a Southern Czar, 
 Save where the fishes own the sway of Frankish and of Farr. 
 Ah ! Hagley Park, as oft at eve, on Avon's limpid tide, 
 By Worthy's classic lawns the laughter-laden wherries 
 
 glide, 
 
 What soul so base as not to feel the magic of the scene, 
 And vow to keep thee free for aye, as thou hast ever been f 
 
 To this good town (I tell the tale as it was told to me) 
 Two strangers came, in days gone by, from o'er the rolling 
 
 sea; 
 The first, a youthful Briton, brought from Albion's foggy 
 
 shore 
 That cautious brain, that prudent mind, which always 
 
 looked for " more : " 
 The second, grey, but lightsome yet, nursed 'neath the 
 
 sun of France, 
 Still let no ardent warmth impel to losing of a chance. 
 
 They came, those noble beings, from the hot Australian 
 
 sands, 
 Bearing hither priceless treasures, all the wealth of other 
 
 lands, 
 Wishing, for the people's profit, all these wonders to 
 
 display, 
 Wishing too, perhaps, some plunder for themselves to bear 
 
 away. 
 
 "Pis sad to tell what conflicts stern befel this noble pair, 
 How Howlaud tried to drive them back, how Koberts 
 
 grudged his Square. 
 In vain the wave of "progress" rose and drowned the 
 
 feeble few, 
 And in the Park, 'neath Lambert's care, the fairy Palace 
 
 grew. 
 
 In sooth it was a glorious pile, a too, too utter thing, 
 Where all the Graces, all the Arts, their beauties seemed 
 
 to briur.
 
 119 
 
 Four cloud-capped towers, majestic, were at each far 
 
 corner placed, 
 
 The centre bore a lightsome arch, as if by angels traced ; 
 And iron lent its rigid strength, and timber straight and 
 
 trim, 
 And every wall was firmly braced with mighty sheets of 
 
 scrim ; 
 Hurrah ! cried all the gazing crowd, what mortals can, 
 
 compare 
 With the stalwart might of Twopeny, the splendour of 
 
 Joubert ! 
 
 It boots not now to tell the tale, how, on an autumn day, 
 The city rose in festal guise, and all was grand and gay, 
 As the bright steel flashed, and the cymbals clashed, and 
 
 the sullen cannon roared, 
 And the bells clanged out, and all the rout to the fairy 
 
 Palace poured ; 
 How all the hardy artisans paced the city through and 
 
 through, 
 
 With forty men in nightshirts, and the butchers all in blue, 
 Nor must we tell how all the world in thousands thronged 
 
 to fill 
 Those wondrous halls, and pour apace their shillings in 
 
 the till. 
 
 The autumn days went swiftly by, and fate, whom all obey 
 Brought nearer still and nearer still the mournful closing 
 
 day. 
 'Twas hard indeed to muse, dry eyed, upon that hastening 
 
 time 
 When those two men, so great and good, must seek 
 
 another clime. 
 'Twas sad to feel that soon no man would find ft single 
 
 trace, 
 Save rags and rubbish, dirt and straw, of all that glorious 
 
 place :
 
 120 
 
 And Joubert sighed to think how soon, when he was far away, 
 In the Park the girls would flirt again, the little children play. 
 His noble heart was touched with grief he registered a 
 
 vow 
 
 And called to his assistance then his crony Ruddenklau. 
 He said, " Attend, my little friend, I have a little plan, 
 I want to get my money back for my building, if I can. 
 They have 1:0 souls, these Englishmen, their cold and 
 
 narrow pride 
 
 Can only see themselves and shuts out all the world beside. 
 We came (myself and Twopeny) with a great and varied 
 
 store, 
 We showed these petty bumpkins what they never saw 
 
 before : 
 We showed them plates from Worcester, pots and jugs 
 
 from far Japan, 
 
 Little Yenuses from Italy, and Leda with her swan. 
 They've had the tight-rope gratis, entertainments small and 
 
 big, 
 
 They've had the armless lady and the educated pig : 
 For them the Austrian Band has strummed the same tunes 
 
 every day, 
 They've had Professor Bickerton and Carmini Morley's 
 
 play 
 
 And after all these wonders they won't even make a show 
 Of asking for our Palace as a keepsake when we go ! 
 Now, on your chain of office, is it not hard mon cher ? 
 Sapristi ! if I knew the way, 'twould almost make me 
 
 swear !" 
 " Meiu frent," quoth little Kuddenklau, half weeping as 
 
 he spoke, 
 
 " I do not know if what you say is earnest or in joke : 
 But you are right, for every way the case is hard, 'tis true, 
 And in my solid German soul I sympathise mit you. 
 We must forgive these English they have not got der 
 
 geist, 
 They won't be driven, like us, you know, but they may be 
 
 enticed !
 
 1-J1 
 
 "With them 'tis Lest to dangle some pretty, glittering lure, 
 And there's one or two would help I know, if we profit 
 
 could ensure. 
 
 Let Walton rouse the monied hive and whisper dividends, 
 Let Brown log-roll in Parliament, and work his little ends, 
 And I will speak when all your guests are primed with 
 
 good champagne, 
 And when the people hear their Mayor, they will not dare 
 
 complain." 
 
 The great day came, the Hall was filled, it was a sight to 
 
 see 
 
 Around those loaded tables such a glorious company ! 
 There Joubert, playful innocent, in Wilson's tweeds arrayed, 
 Formed joyous contrast with his mate, so sombre, black and 
 
 staid ; 
 There beamed, as if he seldom saw so many tempting 
 
 things, 
 The visage of our Speaker, sprung from Ireland's mythic 
 
 kings . 
 There clustered all those wise, good men, who, in their 
 
 country's cause, 
 And for their country's pay, consent to give their country 
 
 laws : 
 And Walton's foxy glance was there, and the hungry face 
 
 of Brown. 
 And on them all, from the canvas wall, the " Sirens " fair 
 
 looked down. 
 
 : ! 
 
 The feast is done : the joyous guests the sparkling goblets 
 
 drain, 
 
 The iron roof with din of loyal toasts resounds again : 
 "Up stands Joubert his bright eyes glare he scents the 
 
 coming prey, 
 In plaintive tones he tells his tale and points his friends the 
 
 way.
 
 122 
 
 He tells how all his noble work has cost him far too dear, 
 
 And Twopeny looks shyly down, and Walton drops a tear. 
 
 Then every guest with solemn mien sipped a little more 
 champagne 
 
 As Ruddenklau in turn took up the melancholy strain. 
 
 " And shall it then be said of us in future times," he cried, 
 
 " That with a glimpse of fairy realms our hearts were satis- 
 fied? 
 
 Shall three short months suffice for us, of these trans- 
 cendent halls, 
 
 "Where every night brought new delight, from dolls to 
 Fancy Balls ? 
 
 What will remain if this grand pile should vanish into air,. 
 
 To recall the form of Twopeuy, the grace of Jules Joubert ? 
 
 No, G-ott bewahre ! citizens, we have not sunk so low, 
 
 We'll keep them as mementos of our good friends when 
 they go. 
 
 Some very honest gentlemen (their names withheld as yet)- 
 A little lease of a little piece of Hagley Park shall get ; 
 They shall buy this splendid building, and in this eternal 
 
 Hall 
 
 They shall gaily fill their pockets and give pleasure to us all." 
 He ceased, but from the astonished guests came back no- 
 answering cheer, 
 
 No sound of warm approval rose to greet his anxious ear : 
 There was scarce one in all that room who did not feel 
 
 afraid, 
 
 As every word revealed how well that subtle plot was laid : 
 Joubert looked grave, and Twopeny still at his plate gazed 
 
 down, 
 
 And Brown looked hard at Walton, and Walton winked at 
 Brown. 
 
 But when, next morn, the people heard how spoke that 
 
 daring man, 
 At once through all the shuddering town a thrill of horror 
 
 ran ;
 
 123 
 
 At once from all sides rose the cry of clamorous dissent, 
 'Till frightened Joubert vowed that nought but fun and 
 
 joke was meant. 
 Nor, 'mid the din of protest, were our two great mentors 
 
 mute, 
 
 The Tory print upheld the park, the Liberal followed suit. 
 So may it ever be, so may the people's wrath frustrate 
 Their plans who piecemeal would devour the people's fair 
 
 estate : 
 And when the next base schemer on the Park shall make 
 
 a raid, 
 May he be tarred and feathered, and may I be there to aid ! 
 
 W. M. M.
 
 125 
 
 (1.) " Night-Watch Sonij of the Charlotte Jane." The Charlotte Jane was one of 
 the four ships which left England together, in September, 1850, conveying the first 
 emigrants to Canterbury. Three of these ships arrived in Lyttelton harbour on the 
 same day, December 16, 1850, though they had not sighted one another during the 
 whole voyage from England. The Charlotte Jane was the first to drop anchor ; and 
 the Sir George Seymour and Randolph made their appearance within a few houis. 
 The fourth ship, the Cressy, arrived afier the lapse of a few days. 
 
 (2.) "Pilgrims and Prop/lets." During the first year of the Settlement, 
 Canterbury was invaded by a body of Sheep-farmers from Port Philip > Victoria), 
 who were regarded by the Settlers partly with admiration as successful colonists, and 
 partly with horror as disbelievers in the art of colonization and the " Canterbury 
 system." The visitors found the country admirably adapted for sheep-faming, and 
 they treated with some contempt the raw emigrants from England who looked to 
 agriculture as the foundation of their fortunes. One of the visitors, who seem to 
 have delighted in the soubriquet of " Shagroons," ventured to prophesy, in a letter 
 which found its way into print, that the " Canterbury Pilgrims " would soon be 
 ruined, and their country left for occupation by his more enlightened comrades. 
 The " pilgrims " sought no harsher revenge than to nick-name their Port Philip 
 visitors " prophets," and to take example from their experience in pastoral pursuits. 
 The Canterbury pasturage system was quickly adapted to the requirements o f 
 sheep-farming on a large scale, and " pilgrims" and " prophets" were soon merged 
 into one class as Canterbury runholders. 
 
 (3.) "Lines on a Recent Calamity." Mr. William Deans, one of two brothers 
 who settled at Riccartou, on the plains, long before Canterbury was founded, was 
 drowned by the shipwreck of the vessel in which he was proceeding to Wellington ,. t 
 on his way to England, on the 23rd of July, 1851. Mr. Deans had been a warm 
 friend to all classes among the Canterbury settlers. 
 
 (4.) "The Shagroon's Lament." One of the "Shagroons" from Port Philip 
 entered upon the pastoral occupation of some country near the Gorge of the river 
 Bakaia. There is, perhaps, no more windy spot in the whole of New Zealand, and 
 the Shagroon did not long endure it. He quickly adopted the habits, occupation, 
 and characteristics of a genuine " pilgrim," and now neither grumbles in verse nor 
 prophesies in prose. 
 
 (5.) " The Overseer's Lament." Australia, not New Zealand, is the scene of the 
 woes endured and described by the overseer. 
 
 (6.) " Lay of the Last Registered Dog." This song and theneit the " Proclama 
 tion" were written at the time of the first election for the Superintendency, House 
 of Representatives, and Provincial Council, in Canterbury, which took place at the
 
 126 
 
 end of the year 1853. Sir George Grey was then Governor of the Colony. The 
 Candidates for the Superintendency were Mr. J. E. FitzGerald, who wa successful, 
 Mr. H. J. Tancred and Lieut. -Col. Campbell, who were defeated. " Ten Bob," used 
 as the name of a dog, implies that the Registration Fee of Ten Shillings has been 
 paid for him. [The references to Chinese and to Latin quotations are said to be 
 explained by the following story. One of the candidates at this election was rash 
 enough to make the importation of Chinese coolies a plank of his political platform. 
 At an election meeting, a supporter of his introduced him to the free and indepen- 
 dent a. an expert in agriculture, saying : Mr. is the man to tell you Qiiis 
 
 faciat l<ft(is segetes, quo sidere terrain, Vertcre Maecenas, but the quotation 
 
 was never finished for a stentorian voice from the crowd roared out " So Chines ! " 
 and the second hexameter was drowned in a shout of laughter.] 
 
 (7.) " Charades on Unpopular Subjects." The " Unpopular Subjects " of the year 
 1856 were principally the means of communication through the country, and 
 especially the North Road to Kaiapoi, the Lyttelton Bridle-path, and the ferries 
 over the rivers. 
 
 (3.) " llanuka Branches, with Holes between." A practice was adopted for a 
 short time of mending very bad holes in the road by throwing strong stakes and 
 brushwood over the mud from side to side of the broken spot, and covering these 
 with dry clay ; by which means the road received the appearance rather than the 
 reality of firmness. 
 
 (9.) " What are the Customs Doing?" The Customs Tarriffwas also an "unpo- 
 pular subject " at the end of the year 1856, when the new principle was adopted of 
 levying duties on some classes of imports by weight, and on others by measurement. 
 A story goes that one of the first cargoes to arrive after the change consisted of 
 cocoanuts, and that the Customs officials were driven to their wits' end to compute 
 the duty payable upon each nut separately and the whole cargo collectively. 
 
 (10.) " Our Beautiful Church is Tumbling Dou-n." Lyttelton Church was first 
 built of brick, with timber framing, in the year 1852 ; but the building had to be 
 taken down a few years afterwards. A substantial stone structure now occupies its 
 place. 
 
 ("1.) Lay ofthe Sunnier JRoad" One of Mr. FitzGerald's last acts as Superin- 
 tendent was to open formally the Sunnier Road, by driving over it from Christchurch 
 to Lyttelton. But everal months before this feat was accomplished, the Superin- 
 tendent invited all the Members of the Council to walk over the road, and form an 
 opinion upon its merits. Opinions differed widely. Some persons thought that the 
 Sunnier bne could never be rendered a serviceable dray road, and advocated the 
 improvement ofthe Bridle-path for passengers, and the Ki'ver for goods traffic, until 
 the time for a railway should come. Others followed the opinion of the Government 
 of the day. that a tramway through a high level tunnel under Evans Pass, on the 
 line of the t>uroner Road, would serve every present purpose, ami even render a 
 direct railway unnecessary for the future. The majority, however, seem to have 
 come to the conclusion that an open road by Sumner, not turned into a tramway, 
 and not passing through a tunnel, would be of great practical advantage for many 
 years to come, and would be quite worth the money which must lie expended upon 
 it. The subject was one of daily discussion; opinions were warmly held, and not 
 seldom violently expressed, for and against each scheme ; and it needed but a small 
 stretch of imagination to believe that the Members of Council who objected to the 
 Sumner Road were ready to perish on the hated spot rather than abandon their 
 principles. Xone of them did so ; they visited the road, dined together at Sumner, 
 abode by their previous views, and maintained the dispute actively for many 
 following years.
 
 127 
 
 (12.) " Sailroadior." A proposal was made by the Provincial Government in the 
 spring of 1856 to lay down a tramway from Lyttelton to Christchurch, on the line 
 of the Sumner Road, passing under Evans Pass by a high level tunnel. This 
 project, which is alluded to above, was not carried out. 
 
 (13.) " Road Lines." The Sumner line of tramway was to be combined with a 
 common road, which was to be brought into use, while the tunnel should be in 
 progress of construction, by means of steep zig-zags between (he ptrmanent line and 
 the summit of Evans Pass. These zig-zags have been completed, and now form part 
 of the Sumner Eoad. 
 
 (14.) " The Town of Christchurch." Christchurch, in 1857, was beginning to 
 assume the appearance of a town. Cashel Street was the first which could boast of 
 an almost continuous row of buildings on each side for a portion of its length. The 
 Government offices and Council Chamber were accommodated in a house previously 
 occupied by Mr. W. G. Brittan, between Cathedral Square and the river. The house 
 was afterwards converted into an hotel, and has recently been pulled down in the 
 progress of improvement. Readers of Irish song literature will not need to be told 
 that the fcrm of ballad in the text is a close imitation of the " Groves of Blarney " 
 before that popular song was polished up was it by Father Prout ? into regular 
 metre and accurate rhyme. [But though the appearance of Christchurch in 1857 may 
 have been impressive in the eyes of the Pilgrims, it had not always the same effect 
 upon new comers. To them it was still " the city of magnificent distances." In that 
 very year a gentleman, now well-known as an old identity, arrived for the first time 
 in Lyttelton, whence, taking horse, he rode over the Bridle-path to visit the capital. 
 Unawares he rode up High Street, through Cathedral Square, and along the Whately 
 Road ; and it was not until he had reached Papanui, that, suspecting he had lost his 
 way, he enquired how much further it might be to Christchurch.] 
 
 bury 
 
 but none of the Ministers known to that Council were re-elected to the second, except 
 Mr. Richard Packer and Mr. John Hall. [The gentlemen gingerly referred to by 
 their initials in this ballad were Mr. Joseph Brittan. who in 1858 unsuccessfully 
 contested the Superintendency with Mr. Moorhouse ; Mr. Henry Sewell, whose 
 'Prominence in the Canterbury Association naturally gave him a position in our 
 Provincial Council, which his energy and debating talent fully sustained, and who 
 is referred to later on in the " Song of the Squatters ;" Mr. Cass, ehief surveyor ; 
 Mr. W. J. W. Hamilton, then Collector of Customs, and afterwards for many years 
 Receiver of Land Revenue ; the Reverend William Aylmer, who subsequently settled 
 
 Charles Bowen, and Messrs. John Ollivier and H. J. Tancred."] 
 
 (16.1 " Song of the Squatters." In the year 1858 the Land Regulations were 
 altered by the Council, and some provisions respecting Pre-emptive rights on runs 
 were introduced, giving, as many persons thought and still think, undue advantages 
 to the run-holders. [ Oloware the fluent, Mr. John Ollivier, one who has in his 
 time played many parts, who just then was playing that of Provincial politician, and 
 who now is filling the post of Resident Magistrate for Lyttelton. Jonnioltok, 
 Mr., now Sir John Hall, then a squatter of squatters, and since reputed, although 
 wrongly, to have been the originator of the "gridiron" system of land buying. 
 Scotje-tomsin, Mr. Thomson's nickname, " Scotchy," was far better known than 
 his baptismal appellation. JSobirodi, Mr. Robert Rhodes, then, though not now, 
 a colossus among runholders. Stunnern, Mr. John Studholme, for many years 
 a silent member of the Provincial Council and General Assembly. Tomtcns, Mr.
 
 128 
 
 Thomas Cass, an ante Pilgrim, one of our earliest Provincial Civil servants, and who< 
 if he had been monarch of all he surveyed, would have been despotic sovereign of 
 no small part of Canterbury. Old Siiell**, Mr. Henry Sewell, perhaps better known 
 *s connected with the General Assembly politics, than those of our Provincial 
 Council, of which, however, he was one of the first elected members.] 
 
 year, and was then allowed to leave the Colony. 
 
 (18.) " Where's the Engineer?" Mr. Dobson, the Provincial Engineer, made an 
 Exploring Expedition to the West Coast in the beginning of 18^8. He was very 
 much missed on the Eastern side of the Province, where the autumn and winter 
 seasons happened to be excessively wet, and the roads became almost impassable in 
 consequence. There was plenty of money in the Treasury at the time for all pur- 
 pose* ; and the public chose to believe that the badness of the roads was due solely to 
 the Engineer's neglect. But it is due to Mr. Pobson to say, that, even if his trip to the 
 West Coast was a holiday excursion, no Government officer ever deserved one better, 
 or made better use of it ; for he completed a laborious and successful exploration 
 of the Teremalcau river, and the country dividing the head-waters of the Hurunui 
 from the West Coast, and returned to Christchurch with many valuable additions to 
 the topographical knowledge of the western territory of Canterbury. 
 
 (1! 
 inN 
 
 19.) "The Nelson Appeal." Nelson, in 1860, was the only gold-producing province 
 
 settlement) he might choose to take it. It was constantly desired and attempted !>y 
 the Nelson people, through their Repiesentatives in the Assembly, to have the 
 "scrip" made available throughout the Middle Island, and not in the province of 
 Nelson only ; but the attempt, made for the last time in 18(10, was defeated. At the 
 same time, Nelson, which had a territory always inferior in extent and value to that 
 of Otago or Canterbury, and had divested itself of the greater part of its estnte by 
 selling it cheaply, and therefore had little land fund, complained that it was re- 
 quired to pay an equal share with the other Middle Island Provinces of the New 
 Zealand Company's debt, which had been charged exclusively upon the Middle Island 
 lands. This complaint was listened to, and a new adjustment of the debt was made 
 more favourable to Nelson. The epigram in the text has reference to the gold, iho 
 scrip, and the debt, in the historical sense here described. 
 
 (20.) " The Town and The Torrent." The possibility of Christchurch bring 
 overwhelmed by the waters of the Waimakariri nas been asserted from the first 
 settlement of the town. The river has done a great deal of damage at Kaiapci; and
 
 129 
 
 the people of Christchurch have half expected to suffer similar disasters. The river 
 has broken over its southern bank several times, and the escaping water has flowed 
 down to the Avon, and through Chnstchurch, but no greater sign of its presence 
 than the flooding of the latter river has been ever yet visible. On the occasion 
 referred to in the text, an attempt was made to restrain the 'Waimakariri at the over- 
 flowing point, by constructing sheet piling along the edge of the bank for some 
 distance ; but the attempt was not successful. Mr. Dobsou took advantage of the 
 interest generally felt in the question to deliver a lecture upon it in Christchurch, 
 which went to prove that any overflow at the dangerous spot must come down 
 through the town. This opinion has since been confirmed with some modifications. 
 For a long time after this lecture the river gave no trouble whatever ; but recently 
 (and notably on Christmas Day, 1865) there has been too much reason to doubt the 
 " remarkable quietude of the Waimakariri." 
 
 (21.) " Arcades Ainbo." Mr. FitzGerald returned from England in the year I860, 
 during Mr. Moorhouse's first tenure of office. [Mr. FitzGerald still occasionally 
 pays Canterbury a visit from Wellington, where nis official duties compel him to 
 live; one of the last occasions of his doing so, was to walk as a mourner at Mr. 
 Moorhouse's funeral, in Riccarton church-yard.] 
 
 (22.) " The Lament of Canterbury." [In 1862, when these lines were written, 
 tjie root of all evil formed so much the staple of talk and speculation throughout 
 the Colony, that the late Mr. Crosbie Ward used to declare that, soon >"ew Zealand 
 nurses would sing babies to sleep with the lullaby 
 
 Gold, gold,Jine bright gold, 
 
 Tuapeka, Wangapeka, bright red gold.~\ 
 
 (23.) "The Lost Steamship." The vessel referred to is the City of Dunedin, 
 which was lost, with every one on board, a few hours after leaving Wellington 
 Harbour for Nelson and Hokitika. 
 
 (24.) " The .Runaways." The story of the escape of the Maori prisoners from 
 Kawau is too well known to need repetition. But it may be remarked that "the 
 same good-natured thing" has been done again. A number of Maori prisoners 
 who were kept on board a hulk in Wellington Harbour managed to escape. Some 
 perished and some were caught, but the greater part of them were never seen again. 
 Mr. Titus \Vhite, who was in political charge of the prisoners on Kawau, and whose 
 imaginary acts are described in the text, has since lost his life by the shipwreck or 
 foundering of a schooner iu which he was travelling from the Bay of Plenty to 
 Auckland on Government service. [As the story of the escape will not, perhaps, 
 be now generally remembered, it may be as well to repeat it. In 1864, about 20t) 
 Maori prisoners, mostly captured at the fall of Kangariri Pah, were sent to Auck- 
 land, and confined in the hulk Marion, lying in harbour there. Cooped up in this 
 fashion, their health and spirits soon began to suffer, and Sir George Grey, then 
 Governor of the Colony, had the hulk towed down to his island estate, Kawau, 
 where they were landed and housed. They appear to have been employed in 
 gardening, fencing, and so forth, but to have been left so completely uuguarded 
 that on September the llth, 1864, there were only four Europeans with them. On 
 that day therefore the Maoris, seized some boats belonging to the hulk, 
 and rowed themselves over the mainland, distant only about two miles fron. Kawau. 
 The day was Sunday, and their departure was only discovered by their absence 
 from morning Church. H.M.S. .Falcon, was then lying off the island, but in a 
 different bay that in front of Sir George Grey's house. The runaways, after 
 crossing successfully, established themselves on the top of a steep hill, Otamahua. 
 where Mr. Titus White visited them and tried to induee them to return by dint of 
 threats and promises. The Natives, however, were quite equal to the occasion and 
 Mr. White's diplomacy effected nothing. Beside the Wellington escape above 
 referred to, the reader may be reminded of the similar feat performed some years 
 later at the Chatham Islands by the notorious Te Kooti.]
 
 131 
 
 NOTES TO APPENDIX- 
 
 (1.) The Session was that held by the Provincial Council in the early part of 1865. 
 
 Cutting off Hospital Beer. Mr. Rolleaton was noted in those days for a 
 laudable desire to make even the smallest savings in the public service ; hence the 
 chaff about not paying the charwoman, ante (the Adventures of Poor Cock Canter- 
 bury). If, in later days, Mr. Rolleston has learned to spend money liberally in 
 other parts of the Colony, it must be set to his credit, that, where Canterbury is 
 concerned, he still consistently adheres to his former rigid economy. 
 
 William Wilson. Mr. Wilson, better known under his soubriquet of " Cabbage" 
 (acquired from the nursery garden, of which he was formerly owner), is yet to be 
 seen in Christchurch ; and, though of diminished greatness, may still be heard, like 
 one of Tennyson's horns of Elfland, "faintly blowing" of the wonderful pile and 
 other things. 
 
 The Majors. Messrs. T. White and A. Hornbrook. 
 Qeraldine. Mr. Alfred Cox, then member for that district. 
 
 Herr Tancred. Mr. Henry John Tancred, at one time an officer in the Austrian 
 army, now Chancellor of the Xew Zealand University. 
 
 (2.) This clever bit of verse making, evidently the work o 
 ay of a good humoured revenge for much fault findini 
 
 1 A _ !i _. T * 1 l__J_A.n _1 f - 1 
 
 (3) The road was that about to be made throo
 
 132 
 
 The reader who has the patience and time to consult the Appendices to the- 
 Journals of the House of Representatives of 1864-65, will find that though GoTernor 
 Grey may have had "little to say" to Mr. Weld, he had plenty to write. The 
 correspondence between His Excellency and his ministers is not wanting in vigour. 
 
 (4) Mr. George Sale, now Professor of Classics at the Otago University, was at 
 that time a warden in Westland. 
 
 Mr. William White, in spite of the asseverations here put into his mouth, did not 
 complete his tramway to Little River. He did, however, build bridges over the 
 Waimakariri and Rak'aia, and was concerned in other public contracts. His son, 
 Mr. W. White, jun., is now M.H.B. for Sydenham. 
 
 (5.) In May, 1865, the first sod of the railway which now connects Christchurch 
 with the Bluff, was turned. Shortly afterwards, Mr. Rolleston resigned the post of 
 Provincial Secretary, and retired from the Executive Council, as his views on the 
 policy of developing Canterbury by railway extension did not agree with those of 
 his colleagues. Mr. Eolleston, in fact, considered the starting of the Great Southern 
 Railwav, as it was called, very inopportune. A caricature published in the 
 Canterbury Punch of that date depicts Mr. Rolleston driving resolutely off in his 
 solitary donkey cart, while his former companions, Messrs. Bealey and Hall, are 
 mounting a locomotive engine driven by Mr. Sefton Moorhonse. 
 
 (6.) Little is now (1883) left of the "graceful gift" erected by Mrs. Godlev on 
 the Bridle-path between Christchurch and Lvttelton . The cross h'as fallen and been 
 stolen or removed, and the well is almost hidden by stones and earth on which grass, 
 is growing. The statue standing to Mr. Godley in Cathedral Square contrasts 
 strangely with the neglect with which his wife's present has been treated. 
 
 (7.) " A Leave-taking." Mr. Broome, now Governor of Western Australia, took 
 his leave of us in December, 1868. This poem was written and published just 
 previous to his going on ship-board. The hills referred to in the verses are 
 presumably those of Malvern, where Mr. Broome's station was, and where his wife, 
 Lady Barker, lays the scene of most of her amusing book " Station Life in Canter- 
 bury, Sew Zealand." 
 
 (8.) " T}\e Doctors' Dilemma." This poem refers to a medical dispute, between 
 the Health authorities and the physicians of the Christchurch Hospital. It appears 
 that it is compulsory on the medical men in charge of an infectious case to notify 
 the same to the H'ealth authorities. It was asserted that the physicians of the 
 Hospital did not do this with regard to typhoid fever, but concealed such cases 
 tinder the name of casrro-enteritis, or inflammation of the stomach anil intestines. 
 A Government Commission was appointed to investigate the matter, and since then 
 
 8tro-enteritis has ceased to appear amongst the fatal diseases of tbe Christchurch 
 ospital, and typhoid or enteric fever has taken its place. 
 
 (9.) " A Lay of a Lost Spec." Whether Messrs. Joubert and Twopeny's Exhi- 
 bition really was a lost spec for its promoters, was, at the time when this lay was 
 written, the subject of quite a lively little controversy. M. Jonliert, who ought to 
 have known, declared that it was, and published a balance sheet which bore him out. 
 Against this it was roundly declared that the balance sheet wu* incomplete, and 
 .ormed but another instance of the truth that there is nothing so misleading aa
 
 133 
 
 figures. It was alleged that M. Joubert had left out of his calculations the value of 
 the Exhibition building, at that time still standing, and a rhymester addressed, ia 
 one of the daily papers, an effusion to M. Joubert, the first verse of which ran : 
 
 " Believe me if all those endearing old barns, 
 
 Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, 
 Were disposed of by means of some auctioneer's charms, 
 
 Demolished, and carted away . 
 The sweet sense of profit should soften the smart, 
 
 At least so it seemeth to me, 
 A Snug little balance on Twopeny's part 
 
 And a Soupgon my Joubert for thee. 
 
 M. Joubert's object in representing his affairs as unfortunate was supposed to be 
 a desire to induce the Municipality in pity to purchase his building at a good figure 
 and convert it into a public hall of some sort. It only remains in fairness to say 
 that though this design was shortly nipped in the bud, there unhappily appears 
 no doubt that the Exhibition's enterprising promoters reaped something less than 
 no reward at all for their plucky speculation. The Exhibition formed a very 
 pleasant resort for townspeople in the winter months of 1882, and though some of its 
 featur - - - - * ' 
 
 features had perhaps grown almost as monotonous as the tunes played by 
 Austrian band, its disappearance left a gap in the town's amusements which 
 not yet been filled. 
 
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