THE AGRICULTURAL SHOW.
[Image of page 206]
THE AGRICULTURAL SHOW.
OUR Canterbury Show is now a thing of the past, having taken place on the 12th of November, 1879. Of course, I went to pick up material for a sketch. I leave it to more experienced judges to comment on the merits of the stock exhibits, and only give my impression of the Show taken as a whole, including various little incidents I saw. Wednesday morning was fine, and the delicious coolness of the air being an additional incentive for holiday-making, people began to pour into the grounds the moment the gates were opened. About noon there were one or two heavy showers, and the change in the weather was viewed with consternation by the fair sex, who, no doubt, wished to display their pretty dresses; but Aquarius proved propitious, and our dear old friend Sol showed a smiling face. The scene on the way down defies description -- carriages, buses, cabs, buggies, and vehicles of every kind, were seen on the road, and also crowds of people walking. On arriving at the gates there was a great crush, but my experience of a Christchurch crowd is, that everyone is very civil, you may get rather squeezed, yet all look so good-tempered, it is impossible to be angry. I at once went to look at the horses. The draught stock were more fully represented than last year. In the young stock the competition was very close, and I heard it said that a finer looking lot of youngsters could hardly be beaten in the Old Country. There were seventy-four draught horses entered, and it took the judges five hours to examine them. The class for
[Image of page 207]
blood stock was not so well filled as last year, and the animals shown did not give the visitors a fair idea of this class. I missed the veteran, old Traducer, and should have liked to have seen him again.
I was standing looking at the busy scene with interest, numbers of people all intent on pleasure were passing to-and-fro. I saw a young couple, the woman carrying a baby, evidently the first; the man looked rather bored, as his wife kept asking innumerable trivial questions, such as, "Why do they plait the horses' tails, John?" I could see he was dying to get away to have a quiet look at the cattle and sheep, but his better-half(?) said, "John, you must carry the baby." He answered with a smile, "Na, na, lass, I canna do that, my han's are fu' o' tobacky; ye maun carry him yersel." She looked disgusted, and muttered something about "his nasty pipe." I fear poor John got a curtain lecture that night. I next paid a visit to the cattle and sheep. There were a number of bucolic-looking men hanging over the rails discussing the various good points of the animals. I believe it was the best show for both cattle and sheep that has ever been held in New Zealand. I noticed another young couple leaning over and inspecting a very fat sheep. I imagined she was afraid of the ponderous animal, as he was holding her hand on his arm; but why they were so much interested in the adipose beast I failed to see, and wondered if they were calculating how much it weighed, or how many pounds of candles it would make; and as I am always anxious for information, I listened to their conversation, and this is what I heard-- "And does she love her own George as much as ever, Pet." She answered with a sweet smile, "More than ever, darling." I saw it all; they were just married, and
[Image of page 208]
it was their honeymoon. I wonder if next year they will follow the example of my other young couple, and when she asks him to carry the baby, will he decline. I daresay he will, as lover and husband are two very different individuals. I now came across a very fat, good tempered looking dame sitting on the grass, a lot of children around her, partaking of mutton pies and ginger beer. I spoke to her, she looked so jolly, and I said it was a nice day, not too warm. She laughed and said, "Och, sure, it's warum enough for me, an I be afther takin' a rist. I'm too sthout intirely." I said, "Well, you look very happy and comfortable." "I am that," she said, "and I bliss the day we left the ould counthry to come here; we've prospered, thank the Lord." I said, "good day," and left her thinking what a blessing is a contented mind and a grateful heart. I then looked into the Flower Show, and the display of flowers and plants was magnificent. I heard that His Excellency and Lady Robinson were very much pleased with it.
It would take up too much space to describe the different exhibits that interested me. I now turned to make my way to the gate of egress, when just then I saw a very happy individual, who had certainly been imbibing something stronger than lemonade: he was very jolly; and when his friend who was with him said, "Come, Dick, let's go home." He replied with a very solemn and dignified air, "I'm all ri--, I'm beaufool, you're beaufool, everything beaufool;" and seeing an acidulated prim looking woman approaching he said, "You're a divine creecher; I should like to kish you" (he must have been inebriated). His friend pulled him away, and the acidulated female, looking the picture of virtuous indignation, said, "Take your misguided friend
[Image of page 209]
away, young man, or I shall be under the painful necessity of reporting him to the police authorities." Our jovial friend remarked, "He must have a drinksh;" and they disappeared. I stood for a while and mused; and as I saw the busy crowd the thought came to me, such is human life. We are all moving onward down life's river towards the ocean of eternity, and but a few short years will pass, and many of that busy crowd will have gone to that "undiscovered land from whose bourne no traveller returns," and our place will know us no more. Like a stone thrown into the bosom of a calm lake, a few ripples come and go, and all is still. So with us, a few ripples of grief, but all goes on the same; we are forgotten (save by a few); our place is filled up. But a truce to moralising. I soon reached the gate, hailed a Hansom, and went home, well pleased with my visit to the Agricultural and Pastoral Show of 1879.
C. L. I.
