OUR STORY

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 05, Issue 79, 17 July 1942, Page 6

OUR STORY

CHRONICLES OF SOMETIME CITY "But he's only a puppy,*' said Bruce. „ "All the better for us," , said Graham, with dancing c} r cs. "Will it work?" wondered the younger brother. "It's "worth the risk," said the elder. And all the while the puppy, his teeth bared in a villainous smile, lay wriggling at the end of his chain begging lor a game. "What's your name?" Bruce asked him with a grin. The puppy "woof-, ed" in reply and wriggled some more, his eyes sparkling through the silky fur of his face. It was just then that Robin-thc-< Redhead (as everyone called him with complete disregard for his line old Scottish surname) came whistling into his gateway. Up jumped the puppy and snap! and undone went the chain, and for at least five minutes the boys, the young man and the puppy were just a tangle. Robin-the-Readhead was the young est member of the staff of the tiny lour-page paper which chronicled all the wit, wisdom and happenings of Sometime Citj-, a town of whares, unpainted corrugated iron shacks and sheds, with a few properly built houses thrown in for good measure. He wrote stories about stock sales, Town board meetings, Police Court cases and even mothers' meetings, but lie could have told lots better ones about nearly everyone he knew, especially his schoolboy friends and their escapades. The fact that he didn't, of course, made him a hero to the latter. They stole sugar for hN pony and cookies IV. r the puppies that periodically w< , re "betirded" with him pending their departure for their life's work on. di- : l;uU sheep stations. And all the boys envied ilobin his NclMary hut, haphazard housekeeping, no!. !(■,!., strrniifiis job, his iierv black p; ivy. and vmv, ino;-l ol' :i!!, I'm- r-.'-:\- nny Am; a w< nde'M'ul puppy lie "was. His thick, silny fnr the colour ! of dark honey and hi- moist littiei nose, softly npi i f totl cars # and paws j were black. And his sparkling eyes were of a deeper honey-brown, while brown, too, was the broad tip from the top of his head to almost the tip of his plumed tail. "Sure," said Robin, "his name's Nicholas, the sa:ne as the Czar of Russia. They say he's a pedigree Russian Collie, but I'm adding Aicxander to his name as a note- of caution — not that I want to reflect on his pedigree!" Robin's eyes twin!'.led. -And the nig.Mand note ju-.-i <u\t-< us fine," ehciru.vd iiu- boys, seitiiny! themselves fi'•';'.v <;n [r, Robin's door-v'-mv Then Hh'v ta'i-nM) earur , -:']\" I

and with such persuasive effect that Robin's effects to keep a judicial air were doomed to early failure. And by the time the boys finished their suggestions he "was laughing so heartily that Nicholas Alexander dragged both his slippers outside without being caught in the , act. (To be continued)