The New Orleans daily Democrat. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1877-1880, 1879-02-23
/ A l..
Ian The Year Round.l

We colonists are apt to say that there
is no twilight in New Zealand, when
waxing sentimental over memories of
the land OF our birth, and recalling
many o pleasant half-hour between
the lights"
But although we have no lingering
dusk, sunset with us seems to have
peculiar beauty, and a tender power to
steal into ones heart. Many time
have I, rough colonial as / am, stood.
on my way home. to watch the fantas-
tic clouds and colors OF the sky as night
drew on.
Such sunset glory lit up the whole
sky and the scarcely heaving sea
beneath, one autumn evening many
years ago, as / was riding home on a
tired horse after hard days pounding
after the outlying sheep.
At that time was about 80 years old.
and had snug billet as manager on
one of Lulworth and Clint's great runs
near Nelson. Five hundred a year,
with unlimited grub, and sufficiently
weather tight house on the station, was
no bad thing for penniless man with
no interest. and / often plumed myself
on my own good luck when I came
across other fellows with twice my
brains, and little money, who could
hardly pay for their bread and cheese.
"A beautiful sky, Sprightly," said,
patting my old chestnut as he carefully
picked his way down the face Of steep
hill covered with manuka scrub and
yellow ferns; but wind tomorrow, and
rain before tomorrow night"
Sprightly shook his head till the
bride rang, and stepped out at my
voice. Winding down we went, till the
interminable hill ended abruptly In
level reach Of sand, along which he
could canter for couple of miles.
The sunset colors were fading from
the high peaks we had left, but enough
light fingered on the fiat to give bril-
liant hues to the rocks which lowered
above our heads or lay like fallen giants
In our path, while far out to sea, beyond
the shadow OF the shore. stretched
q long streak OF amber.
rode that way twice a week, as a
rule, sometimes oftener, but never do i
remember TO have met a living creature
to exchange good night with till this
particular evening, when no sooner had
Sprightly started at a weary canter over
the fiat than I pulled him up short In
sheer amazement, for there Ia front was
q fellow dressed like picture, riding at
a foot pace just in the direction we were
going in too.
"Who the deuce can 1t be?" was my
first mental observation. "Ten to
one it's some new chum come to spy
out the land; though I'll answer that
chap don't know sheep when he sees
it,"
As / neared my unconscious friend
/ took in the fact that he rode his horse
like gentleman that his saddle, bride
and saddle bags were new and glossy;
that. In fact, from his jaunty wideaWake
to his English made boots, he was new
chum. Riding up alongside / observed
a white collar and pair OF dog
gloves, which removed any lingering
doubts as to the fact.
"Good evening mate" [ called out
when / got up to the stranger; "going
far tonight"
mot much farther, L hope" he an
swered, turning face Of almost girlish
beauty upon me, and slightly raising
his hat. "But that is question /
should be glad to ask you; that is If YOU
know this part OF the country WELL"
Lived here these six years, and
know every corner sheep can hide in, =
/ answered, rather grimly, contrasting
his high bred accents with my own col
onialisms.
"Ahl then you can tell me whore is
this Wyke station?"
This Wyke station" ! replied in
my crustiest manner, lis where hope
to be eating my supper in half an hours
time. And pray, sir, what may % your
business there?"
The new conner turned to look more
closely at me.
why, you must be-of course you
must be-Ralph Westcott, the very man
am going to see.'
Il am Ralph Westcott." rejoined,
seeing he paused, as il expecting me
TO say something.
Il thought SO. Well, I am Fairfax
Clint. How dye do! / am aWfully
glad to meet you on this dreary and IN
terminable mudflat" So saying, he
extended his hand with such a cordial
gesture that felt ashamed Of my bear
lsh manners, and gave him hearty
grip.
Didn't the governor write and tell