The Argus at KellyGang 24/11/1868
A REPORTER'S ADVENTURE
(FROM THE WANGARATTA DESPATCH, NOV 13)
An adventure which at the time of its occurrence was no doubt looked upon as most serious - but which is not without its ludicrous aspect - occurred to the Wangaratta correspondent of the Spectator on Wednesday night. The gentleman referred to was returning from Oxley, when, arriving at a dangerous swamp which crosses the road, he found that a vehicle containing two young ladies was almost immovably bogged in its centre. In defiance of all risk to himself, he boldly plunged his horse into the slough, and rode to the rescue. The two ladies received their knight with a gracious welcome, and stimulated by their smiles, he resolved to extricate them or perish in the attempt. Fortune, however, is not always kind to the brave any more than to the fair, and long and vainly did the champion struggle to move the chariot from its position. In this dilemma he transferred one of his youthful charges to his steed, and proceeded to denude himself of his garments with the intention of plunging into the waters to remove some obstructions at the bottom. In this he entirely succeeded - that is, he succeeded in his plunge, but entirely failed to remove anything in the shape of obstruction, and he then at last bethought himself of doing what he ought to have done at first - obtaining some assistance.
With this intention he remounted his horse, and under cover of its flowing mane attempted to regain his clothes from the embarrassed ladies in the embarrassed vehicle; but never did the "Knight of the Rueful Countenance" wear a look of greater anguish than did our ill-starred friend when he found that his horse had had quite enough of the business and utterly refused to stir a step towards his master's new found friends. No longer able to endure his position, the rider, in this desperate extremity, adopted a desperate course, and started to look for help, with no other covering than one of the scantiest of inner garments. But fortune was again against him - he lost his way, had to travel through a cemetery and ride half over Oxley before he found what he went in search of. Arrived at last at Clancys Hotel, he borrowed a pair of inexpressible, and, having told of the disaster, assistance was at once despatched towards the scene. Here, at least, we should have thought that fortune itself was tired of persecuting him, but it was not so, for upon regaining his clothes he found them minus his pocket-book, which contained the proceeds of some collections which were the cause of his unfortunate visit. Whether the book dropped into the swamp or not we cannot, of course, determine.
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