AN IDYLL OF THE DAWN.

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 414, 21 April 1904, Page 7

AN IDYLL OF THE DAWN.

The ease with which a man will plan . overnight his early rising for the next ' morning is only excelled by the extreme difficulty of believing' that he is the same man when next morning he lies warm between the sheets, dreaming of sunrises. We three ambitions young artists had not quite mastered this peculiarity of human nature when we decided to take an autumn holiday in the neighbourhood of Ben Lomond in order to make extensive studies of the sunrise effects upon its rugged sides and summit. Nancarrow was very keen on it, and boasted bravely of times when he used to rise every morning at four for the sole •purpose of watching the sunrise on the bills, 'lt only requires a little will power,' he said.. ' One wrench, a Bpring, and a jump, and you find yourself dressing by candle-light/ Now, both Wilkins and I knew by long residence with Nancarrow that for allround Burliness a bear could barely bear comparison with him when, after many cauuigs, he did get up in the morning; but it did not do to contradict him—it only made him wild. All plans being completed, we three betook ourselves to the base of Ben Lomond, with bold ideas in our heads and sunrises in her hearts. NancarroWa prepartions were the most elaborate,in the way of paints and brushes, and resolves not to miss * single morning of such lovely weather. v We took up our quarters in an inn which commanded a fine view of the eastern side of the mountain, and went to bed in the full hope of a glorious early rising. The sun was due above the horizon at five, and it was just/ twelve o'clock, after a hard day's travelling, when Wilkins suggested that the sun would most probably be up to time, if we were not. ■'■■>■'-•

Wilkins and I slept in the same room, while Nancarrow.. occupied one adjoining. After trying in vain for an hour to get to sleep I heard Wilkins remark in a wakeful voice:

'I doofahear Nancarrow snoring. He can't have got to sleep yet, either. I never can do much the first night after travelling, and in a strange bed.' ' Neither can 1/ I replied; 'but I feel Bunriey, all the same.' " Shut up, you rotters!' came the cantankerous voice of Nancarrow from the next room. ' How can a chap get to sleep when you're kicking up that row P' There was silence for about an hour, Then Wilkins,'in a voice that was somewhat drowsier, remarked: ' I say, you chaps, aren't sunrise effects very much the same as sunset P' ' No,'said I, heroically. . ' Certainly not,' added Nancarrow, in a voice of iron. 'l'.bet you a Klondike to an English peerage,' persisted Wilkins, 'thatit you were to keep a man in a dark cell and let him out suddenly on a part of the country he didn't know, just as the sun was rising or setting, he wouldn't be able to tell you whether it was sunrise or sunset.' : * What a fool you ate I* returned Nancarrow. 'lf you let him. Bee it for ten seconds only he mightn't be able to tell, but any one who has ever watched a sunrise—as I have—knows that the colours change in quite a different way from those of the sunset. Go to sleep, you idiots, or you'll never be up to come with me in the morning. It must be past two.' We heard him strike a match, and presently he sang but: 'I eay,my watch has stopped. What's about the tune f • 'Sh V whispered Wilkins to me. • Let

f*m set his watch bj guesswork. 3 Per» I fl apsi hell mui the sunrise, after aU, and we II hare thejaugh at him. Let's pretoad to be asleep/ - - Sometime after this we actually did get to sleep. I was the first to wake in the morning, and on looking at my watch was surprised to see that it was jest five minutes past ten. I communicated this fact to Wilkins, who Bmiled sweetly? between sleeping and waking. Then I made my way to Nancarrow'a room to see how he would take it. On entering, I noticed that it was a dark centre room withont a window—a common enough arrangement in some of the old inns up north—and immediately I was struck by a brilliant idea. I crept back to the somnolent Wilkins, and fold; him what was passingpnlfmyj mind; It brought him but of bed like an electric shock, and his first action was to darken our room, effectually by b souring the blind close againßt the window. This done, it seemed quite possible to mistake the hour for four am.

•Now,'he said, 'bring the candle, and we'll go and wake him.' Half dressed, we crept into Nancarrow's room, and approaching the bed with the suggestive candle, gently woke him. •'Sh!' said Wilkins. 'Don't nuke a noise. No one's Btirring yet, and we don't want to wake the whole house. It's just four o'clock : eo we've a good hour before she rises—l mean the son.' 'Aliri' said Nancarrow, sleepily j Til get up in half a sec.' I«*°' that k® haB B ed '' said Wilkins. If you like to go to sleep again and miss thejßuntisei after coming all thiß way to Bse it, you can j but don't ask ua to wake you again, that's all.'

'lt only requires a little will-power,' I aiid; 'one wrench, a spring, and a jump, and you find yonrself dressing by candle, light*' { ('>;;*.-. ..,'[' •.;..< . : ..-..;i ii Nancarrow could never stand his overnight resolves thrown up in his matutinal' teeth. He was out of bed in double- quick time, and dressing angrily. With % the exercise his spirits'rose. • J • The sky's clear; iß*ht it f° Wasted;* 'Bipping!' said Wilkins. "When I looked outjuat now the stars were bright and frosty.',, ..,_,, ~.., , :: ;„ VtifU** •GadT jerked iNanoarrow. ■ After all* you know, there's nothing so fine as turning out before the ¥un's up; ' It's a bit of a wranch, but it's grand." ' jitrfe • '.The morning wind.' ever blows along tbe mountain ridges,' I quoted* ' but few are the ears that:hear it. ,-,- 'Nancarrow was struggling with bis boots. --•" -

•1 don't want any breakfast, you 'chaps;' be- said.. 'l.always, paint best in .the early morning, before I have anything to eat.'- ; ' ' -■■"■

i Don't talk so loud,' whispered-Wil-' kins- * You'll wake up the whole house.' . 'All right. Have you fellows got your paints ready P I fixed up everything last night. I shan't wait for you, you know. I'm not going to miss this sunrise for all the fools in the world. Why, you're not dressed yet. Hurry up; it's not a time to sit and gape like that. Get up; you're sitting on my tie.' It was easy to see that getting op to see a sunrise was quite a new experience to Nancarrow. We marvelled at his enthu . siasm, and hurried away to dress. Presently he came out of his room, bebooted, begaitered, and eager, his sketching apparatus under bis arm and his hat on his head. We were both fumbling with our boot strings. •Dissipated brutes,' he said, 'how many hour's Bleep do you want, anyhow, in order to be dressed before five o'clock P I shan't wait. I said I wouldn't, and I won't.'

' I say, old chap,' pleaded Wilkins, ' hold on j we shan't be a minute.' ' After all, you fellows,' I said, taking my boots off again, 'I think I'll have another hour or two; I feel so jolly sleepy, I don't believe I should enjoy it whei. I got there.' Naacarrow snorted.

' That's a nice way to talk after coming all this distance to Bee the sunrise on Ben Lomond. You chaps haven't the pluck of a grasshopper. Faugh 1 I'm off. I can't stand talking to two idiots when there's a sunrise to be seen.'

He tore off, and we rose to watch him. as he passed through the Bhort, dim pas-, sage to the front door. He flung it open passed out, and banged it behind him. I ran to the blind, and, peering through, saw him standing- outside in the street wondering vaguely why there were so many people abaut at that early hour. Then he rushed to the corner of the inn and scanned the eastern sky. It was cloudy, but he evidently made out the true state of affaire, for presently we heard a slow tread" in the passage, our door was flung open, and Nancaraow reentered, with a face like thunder. " .

I cannot report what he said, but when he accused us of playing a trick on him we showed him our watches, which we had carefully set to twenty minutes past four. Tt was this, and this only, that saved our lives. Bat perhaps bur splendid acting had something to ,do .with it.. , ~_.„ .._,„ ' Never mind,' said Wilkins, consolinglg, as we sat down to breakfast- soon afterwards, 'we can, of the sunset j that's good-enough forme.-«JM sides, it's a solid fact that Thomson wrote his Ode to the Sunrise in bed. at ten o'clock. There's comfort in that.'

Now, Nancarrow never once during our week's stay turned but early enough to see a sunrise, but he turned out a very or editable picture of it from the fading colours of the sunset—— But it. does not do"W'divulge* these of the artist's gentle trade.