e new-chum is scarcely a responsible
being. At the time I write of, drunkenness was severely legislated
against in New Zealand. A man who was merely drunk, without being
actually incapable or riotous, was liable, if any constable saw fit, to
be haled before the magistrate and fined one pound; and, on a subsequent
conviction, might be sent to the Stockade (prison), without the option
of a fine at all. The law stood something like that, and was impartially
administered by the Auckland Dogberry. However, if an individual were
pulled up, charged with even the most excessive tipsiness, including
riot, assault, incapability, or what not, and could show that he was a
new-chum, the sacred folly attributed to that state of being was held
sufficient to bear him blameless, and he was always discharged on his
promise not to do it again. I do not know whether this was intended as a
sort of indulgence to newly-arrived voyagers, or whether, in the eye of
the law, a new-chum was held to be an irresponsible being, who had not
yet arrived at the moral manhood of a New Zealander. Certain it is, it
was fact, and was largely taken advantage of, too.

In order to bear out one of the received theories regarding new-chums,
namely, their utter want of frugality, we, some half-a-dozen young
"gentlemen," who have come out in the cabin, go to put up at one of the
leading hotels of the city. We have looked in at some of the minor
hotels and houses of accommodation, but are daunted by the rough, rude,
navvy-like men, who appear to chiefly frequent them; and we do not care
to go to any of the boarding-houses, where parsons, missionaries, and
people of that class mostly abound, and tincture the very air with a
savour of godliness and respectability that is, alas! repugnant to our
scapegrace youth.

We are young fellows with slender purses but boundless hopes, an immense
belief in ourselves and our golden prospects; but with the vaguest
possible idea of what manual labour, roughing it, and colonial work
really mean. Therefore, we have decided that there is no reason to
plunge at once into the middle of things, that we will look about a bit,
let ourselves down gently, and taste a little comfort before proceeding
further.

Our hotel is a solid, comfortable-looking edifice of stone, standing on
a wide street that traverses a high ridge, and commanding a fine view of
the harbour. It is well furnished throughout in English fashion,
resembling any first-c