The North Eastern Ensign at KellyGang 1/1/1875
KIALL1 AND ARCADIA
(From our own Correspondent)
Harvest in these parts is just about finished. The average yield is most distressingly small, and there is a very general feeling amongst the farmers that an importation of new seed from Europe will be the only sure plan for avoiding rust and a deficient return for next year. The predicted dearth of harvest laborers was an unfulfilled prophecy so far as Kialla is concerned. Our Celestial friends happily came to the rescue and brought down the wages to a figure that did not greatly cripple the resources of the farmers. As might be expected in a neighbourhood bordering on Arcadia (the primative abode of peace and love), some of our better disposed agriculturists formed themselves into a mutual accommodation society and helped their neighbors and were helped in turn, and so the Christmas harvest was gathered in on the Christmas principle of "peace on earth, good will to men."
Two severe storms of wind and rain passed over this 1ocality, during the last few days, tearing up the giants of the forest and unroofing here and there a treacherous human habitation, whose present condition is far more adapted for astronomical observation than for the purposes of domestic comfort.
In spite of somewhat hard times there is to be quite a little round of Christmas and New Year, festivities in Kialla and as party going is eminently infectious, we expect quite a little epidemic of picnics with the usual accompaniments of "spooneying," flirting, and dancing.
Our enterprising publican, Mr Whitfield, is, advertising races for New Year's day, and we are informed that stakes are to be run for and that there are numerous entries of blood and other horses, whose prowess on the occasion will compensate some of our friends for their disappointment in not witnessing the Melbourne Cup
The cause of education is by no means neglected in Kialla. A State school is already in existence on the Broken River, and another on is to be opened on or about the beginning of the new year, and still another one is in contemplation near Mr Kirk's selection, tenders for the erection of which will be called for by advertisement. The nucleus of a Sunday school is being formed at Mr Kirk's, and as there is an unusual amount of musical ability in the neighbourhood, and the prospect of a good deal more, an harmonic society is to be started forthwith, to be followed, rapidly by a concert and the inevitable "ball".
As yet the monotonous buzz and roar of the threshing machine has not invaded, the solitude of Kialla. And certainly on a hot day, with the thermometer standing at 120, the dust and noise of one of these unwieldy monsters is by no means conducive to coolness of body or cheerfulness of mind, still we shall be very glad to get the harvest over, and as soon as Mr Powell of Violettown, or Mr Sinclair, of Arcadia, fulfil their steam-threshing engagements in this quarter, the sooner we shall be able to forget the unfortunate harvest of this year.
“Cutting the painter” from the Benalla Shire Council is the principal topic of conversation hereabouts. Whether justified by facts or not it is a general opinion here and at Muddy Creek that this part of the shire is greatly neglected by the representatives of the shire, and that the municipal revenue raised in this locality, so far from being used for its benefit, is lavished upon places far distant and with which our people have little or no concern. Of course; the general wisdom of the Benalla Shire Council is above all suspicion, but it being that kind of wisdom unfavorebly reported upon by the Apostle James, our more cautious friends amongst the selectors are anxious to give it as wide a berth as possible, believing it will not be to their advantage to be victimised in its municipal embrace. A poetic friend has put the little grievance into a psalm of orthodox although peculiar, metre, which is commended to the use of the congregation assembling
at the Benalla Shire Chambers: -
Kialla is a quiet spot,
And yet our boys man make it hot
A strong to big Benalla,
Thanks thinks to serve its mighty self,
And take its municipal pelf
In scorn of poor Kialla.
Our boys declare the shire’s too big,
And councillors don't care a fig
How roads may be constructed,
Provided they can keep their seats
And take their litake perquistes,
From whomsever muleted.
Two thousand pounds we've flug away
To men who only take our pay
To patch up big Benalla;
And if we want a bridge or road,
The answer is, "Oh, you be blowed,
You people of Kialla."
So now we want to be divorced,
As so much treasure we have lost
Or vested in Benalla;
And as to shire-hood, we have grown,
We'll have a road board of our own,
We "cockies" of Kialla.
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