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Misther Murphy Visits Tay Whitty.

I'm tould that yer readhers has been in a mighty great state av anxiety about me, bekays I've been silent for the past few weeks, so I have. Well, betchune you an' me an' the bedpoast, the Guvmint have sint me dancin' round the counthry like a bare on a hot griddle, an' bad scran to thim, they've scarcely give me time to dhrop a line or two to Molly and the childer on the Kay. Bad luck to thimselves and their Royal Commishuns, if iver I jine another o' thim me name's not Murphy, so it's not. Ye'll see be the shuperscripshun that I'm in Auckland at present. I've jist returned from a visit to Tay Whitty, an' wid yer lave I'll give ye a short account av our intherview. Av coorse whin the Guvmint detarmined to send me as special plinny-po-tinshirry to the grate profit, I made it a siney cue non (this is not Frinch, but Latin) that I should go alone, barrin' me private saycritary, for ye see I undherstand how to dale wid the Natives, bekays I was brought up on thim, so I was. (Me unkle Darby, pace to his sowl, used to projoodce some beautiful pink-eyes an' lumpers.) Well, widout inthroodin' too much on your valuable space, I'll come to the pint o' me visit. I lift me private saycritary to mind me porimantey at Panhakay, an' procaided alone, all be mesilf, to Tay Whitty's Pa. Before I raich d widhin a hundhred yards o' the chiefs wharry the profit run out to imbrace me. Afther we rubb'd noses, the grate chief ses: Gud dhay ma ta thu. Paddy, arroon, I'm proud to see ye." (Tay Whitty spaiks Irish wid the graitest aise.) "The same to you, an' a grate many av thim," ses I. "Come along, avick machree," ses he, "an' wet yer wistle," ses he, and he dhragged me into the wharry. Be the hokey, it'ud do yer eyes good to see how the Wyhenas, young an' ould, kissed an' fondled an' foisted me that evenin', so it would. But, begorra. I must'nt take up yer valuable space wid an account av it. Ther was grate goins on intirely, an' Tay Whitty thraited me like a gintleman, so he did. Thenixt mornin' we procaided to business, an' the followin' is a condinsed report av the procaidins. Afther we wor lift alone in the wharry (the Whyneas went out to the back yard to have a game o' forty-fives for a plug o' tobaccy) Tay Whitty began:—

"Misther Murphy, I'm now addhressin' ye in yer kar-ac-ther av plinny- po-tinshirry—that's the raison I don't call you Paddy. Now I want ye to tell me, in as few words as possible, the objict av yer misshun," ses he.

"O, grate profit an' mighty chief, ses I, puttin' on dignity, an' spakin' afther ther own poitic fashin, "Hear the words o' the high Pakeyha, Sir Herkulis, an' his prime-ear, Johnny Hall," ses I.

"O, noble Pakeyha, I'm all attinshun," ses he; "spaik on."

"The say is broad an' wet, an' the land is firm and dhry," ses I.

"Kapai, Pakeyha, me ears are open," ses he.

"The great kanoose o' the Maoris wor made to float, an' the fish wor made to swim."

"Hail, great Pakeyha ! 'Pon me sowl it's thrue for ye," ses he.

"The shades o' mornin' are hidin' ther dusky night-caps beyant the Silurian deeps, an' the man in the moon takes a lunar at the ould Jew-Pether, who gets his livin' be hawkin' lucifers, twelve boxes a-sbillin'," ses I.

"Wise art thou, O Pakeyha; be the hokey, ye spaik like a book," ses he.

"Whin the ploughshare sinks into the soil the clay is ginerally disturbed, an' whin the seed is spread broadcast it is sown, an' rich crops are the fruits av a plintiful harvest, ses I, comin' to the pint o' me misshun.

"Let yer mouth be open once more, for though I'm a great profit I'm at a slight loss to undherstand yer manin', so I am," says Tay Whitty, lookin' mighty puzzled.

"I'm tould yer a grate boy intirely for dhrames an' visions, an' such like. O profit," ses I.

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"Salutashuns, O frind Murphy. Words is words, an' when a man spaiks he invaryably ses some thin," ses he.

"Musha, bad luck to the thruer word ye've iver spoke in the hole coorse av yer life, O mighty profit." ses I.

"The foam comes on to the shore, an' the hills are not the valleys; and the bones o' me ancisthors cries alowd for vinginoe," ses he.

"Arrah, don't get in a timper, great chief,' ses I.

"Frind Grey is frind Grey, and frind Sheehan is frind Sheehan, an' cabs is cabs," ses he.

"Begorra, yer a filosopher, O wise profit," ses I.

"Whin I gaze through the misty vistas (not wax vistas) o' the past, down into the mountains o' the fuchure, and behould the lovely angels, wid wings, sailin' through the vapor o' time, a glorious pennyrama opens itself to me bewild Lered gaze," ses he.

"Och, luk at that, now," ses I.

"I see a fierce ocean roarin' above the billows o' dispair in the nithermost ragions, and I behould a shoal av horrid-lookin' monsthers plungin' in the seethin' foam. I see thim thryin' to raich the shore, but a glorious army o' Maori warriors spear the accursed varmints before they get to the surf. They are dead, dead, dead; and I behould in big brass kar-ac-thers on aich o' their foreheads the magic word, 'Landshark.' and the first monsther that led the shoal bairs the potent moneygram F.W. on his cloven fins, whilst the word Piako is engraved undher his hungry gills. An' now, now I behould a noble Pakeyha night on a white steed, plungin' through the briny braikers where the warriors are dhraggin' the landmarks ashore. He raises his phiz-sir or hilmit, and I ray-cog-nise Sir George—Sir George and the Dhraggin. The mysthery is cleared, an' me vision fades," ses he, lookin' wairy, and rubbin' his eyes, for all the world like Misther Walker the mayjium.

"The Maoris are a noble race, oulder than Adam, an' sprung from anshint history an' ivolnshun, but the Pakeyha kem over the says—" ses I.

"Silent be thy tongue, O Pakeyha, for I feel me collar risin'," seys he. I may minshin ong passong (Frinch), that I made him a prisint av a box o' paper collars the previous night. "Silent be thy tongue, O son av a say-cook, an' hear me spaik," ses he, looking mighty fierce, wid his two eyes roulin like a mad bull in a chaney shop. The Pakeyha kem over the says to says our land. But the land is all covered wid my blankit, so it is, an' ther is no room for any judge or commishun to sit upon it, d'ye mind that now ? The Guvmint must kum to my wharry, for I shall not go to their Hall, bad luck to the step," ses he. "They have thried to do widout me, therefore. I shall do away wid thim, an' they shall be as naught. I'm tould that they have a mighty priest an' profit) named Tommy dick, who has the infarnal impudence to pray for me convarshun But I am a graiter profit thin he. I, Tay Whittv am a Seer while your Tommy dick is getting into the Seer an' yallow laif," ses he. "Go back, O Pakeyha, and tell the Guvmint that I've had a vision an' a dhraime, which, be yer laive I'll give ye in varse." The profit thin procaided to chant the followin' tangi:—

I'm a profit wid a grate big P,
An' ruler avthe hole counthry;
I snap me fingers at Guvmint taunts,
An' so do me sisthers, me cousins, an' me aunts.

I had a dhraime, a pleasant dhraime,
Whin evirything was still;
I cihreamt I saw Sir George bring in
A purty Native bill;
He stood up in the House an' spoke,
In tones both loud an' high,
An' Wakefield cried aloud, "Bosh ! Smoke !"
An' Pike sed " All me eye."
Oh Sir George an' Johnny, don't ye cry for me.
I'm gwine to laugh at Guvmint, an' rule the hole counthry.

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I dhreamt that I got at the dodges of Hall's,
Though Kollestoo stood at his side,
An' all who wor met in the Parliamint walls
Had broken their pledges an' lied;
The whips wor all ready to count, an' most
Wor purchased widout any shame;
An' I also dhreamt that the Pakeyha host
Wor diddled an' gulled jist the same.

I dhreamt that the people wor robb'd o' the lands,
An' nights wor all wasted in sprees,
An' vows that no kon-stit-u-ints could withstand,
Wor broken for tips an' for fees;
An' I thought that I saw an avingin' ghost
Stand forth the land to claim;
An' jist as Sir George had raygained his post,
I woke an' 'twas all the same.

Whilst the profit wos singin' he danced an' twisted himself abont like an ourangoutang, an' be-gorra I wos mighty glad to get away from the korero wid a hole skin, for afther he'd finished the tangi, he rimarked that he felt "peckish an' 'ud like some nice baked Murphies." But I wasn't to be caught, an' here I am in Auckland safe an' sound, so I am.—Yours, &c.,

Paddy Murphy.