The herald., 1894-03-15
A LUCKY "SPEC."

n AOOA Oh IO.
A black nor easter was working its
wicked will in the harbor of Alexander,
the capital town of one of our colonies,
as we steamed into it on board the Omeo
in June, 1874. Binding rain poured
pitilessly down. The whole of the mag
nificent sheet of water which forms the
landlocked harbor was a seething mass
of foam, and as we rounded the inner
heads the roar of the surf on the Fri
tonga beach, which faces the entrance
to the harbor, was ominously distinct.
Under the skillful guidance of our skip
per, Jock Maclean, familiarly known
on the coast as He'll Fire Jock, we felt
our way to the pier. / had been spend
ing long holiday in sightseeing. What
between Rotomahana and the Hot lakes,
Sydney, Melbourne and Hobart Town,
when l landed on the pier at Alexander
l possessed three portmanteaus and Z
shillings. However, chartered bug
gy and drove with all the confidence in
the world to the Empire hotel.
Having done justice to an excellent
dinner, determined to hunt up an old
press comrade, Frank Clifford, who, l
had heard, was the editor of the Alex
ander Daily Post. The rain was COM
ing down with tropical vengeance, and
from all the numerous hills upon which
the Empire City, as they call it, is sit
uated, miniature torrents of water
poured down and inundated the Te Arc
fiat, the business portion of the town.
1t was an uninviting night, but the
stimulus of an empty pocket overcame
my repugnance to quit the cheerful
halls Of host Moeller. Luckily the Of
fees of The Post were close handy, SO 1
was not quite drowned by the time I
was shaking Clifford by the hand.
He welcomed my advent in reassur-
ing manner, which eased my mind
somewhat as to the inevitable mauvais
quart d 'heure. We had the usual shop
talk Fisher of the Gulgong Adver-
tiser had died in fit of delirium tre-
mems, Clarke of The Argus had been dis
missed for sending in glowing criti-
cism of theatrical performance which
had not taken place, Holloway of the
Waillato Times was editing the Tauran-
ga Trumpet, Dillon had rated and now
swore by Boyle, the premier of the day;
Jock Danderson had abandoned journal
ism and was keeping public house,
and so forth. Then Master Frank di-
lated upon his own prospects. He had
but two complaints to make-6rstly, his
proprietor was an old brute; secondly,
his subeditor was o young fool. My ex-
perience is that most newspaper pro-
prietors are old brutes, and that most
subeditors are-not 80 wise as they
would be thought. 'Subeditorl' said
Frank. He's excellent at the devour-
ing element admirable at casting
gloom over the entire community and
altogether unapproachable when he has
to record the fact that our esteemed
and enterprising fellow townsmen,
Stains & Kircaldie, have added to their
emporium new shop front, which is a
credit to the town and quite an orna-
ment to Te Arc street, but, as to subed-
iting, he knows as much about it as
Mount Cook does of policeman.
Sympathizing deeply with my friend,
for l, too, had had bitter experience of
paste and scissors men, suggested that
perhaps on the whole it wouldn't be
amiss if Mr.. Mosely were sent about his
business and / were installed in his
chair. Frank jumped at the idea, but
explained that the 'old brute" had an
absurd quixotic belief in Mosely because
that eminent paste pottist, though not
a genius, was always sober.
A deep plot was then concocted where
by the old brute was to be got round
and Mosely circumvented. AS part of
this plan it was arranged that l should
attend performance to be given that
evening at the Odd Follows hall by
Professor Beda, who described himself
as the premier equilibrist tight rope
walker .of the world and champion
prestidigitator Of the universe. was
to return to the Office and write as ex-
cellent an account as could. You'll
have, in fact, said Frank, to fake
it," And did.
The rain was still pelting down as l
struggled to the hall. The roads we've
in places two feet deep in water. What
with the wind, the rain and the dark
ness of the streets-there was no gas in
Alexander in those days-I had consid-
erable difficulty in getting to the place
at all, but at last l reached it, present
ed my ticket to an attendant who glared
at me as savagely as a baked box
keeper and entered the room. The place
was we'll lighted, warm and comforta-
BILE, and was pleasing contrast to the
horrors of the night outside. A defect
ed looking pianist was playing lively
tune, and all things were ready for the
feast. All things but one-the audi
ence. There wasn't soul in the
place but myself, and was deadhead.
Seeing that it was now half past 8, and
that the performance should have COM
menced at s, this did not look promis-
ing. However, my business was to re-
port the show, SO down sat and read
the programme through half dozen
times, dimly conscious the while that
the piano was informing me that
There was a good time coming, boys,
only wait a little longer. What with