ONCE ROUND

Dominion, Volume 10, Issue 3118, 23 June 1917, Page 10

ONCE ROUND

A BAR-ROOM EPISODE , [By Wi.j c Now, you'is quite wrong. What I am really going to tell you about is a sormon, onjy J didn't say so in the heading because, well—you see ' what I mean. First catcA your hare—see? Kow I've got you, 1 want to tell you about this sermon. It was no ordinary sermon, with ii fourthly and fifthly, and that sort of thing. You know what 1 mean —Pa snapping his watch and Jla wondering what's happening to the dinner. No, t.iis was something with sledge-ham-mers for commas and meat-choppers for iull-stops. But oh! it was line! If you could have heard it!

hi the beginning, I was turning the Bank of New Zealand corner when I ran icto my friend Bill. "'Morning, 'William!" I said. "Tho very man!" he said. "I'm aa dry as a wooden god."

If you've never been as dry as a. wooden god you won't know what Bill meant. You see. Bill is a poet, but as he keeps his hair cut short and wears clothes like other people it doesn't hurt him. However, to get back to the point. Bill said he was as dry as a wooden god. In other words—but I can't really bring myself to fay it. The fact remains that if Bill hadn't been as dry as a woodea god we wouldn't have heard the sermon.

Now, get this picture in your mind: An oblong room, hung with mirrors and chasto reproductions of Alma Tadeina, Sir Frederick Leightoii, and so on. On one side numerous shelves with ornamental supports, and inset mirrors. On these shelved are bot—vessels of varied design; some black, others white, with labels on them. It sounds like a chemists shop, but it isn't. Then in. front, running down the Toom, so as to divide about one-third of it off, is a broad counter, with brass edging, highly polished. Near the floor, and fixed securely to the counter is a stout rail. People who come in, Jean one elbow on the counter, and put one foot on the rail. Behind the counter is Philoinena. So much for the scene. Now for the dramatis personnae. There were Bill and I, in the corner, talking. There, were two returned soldiers, talking about the Somme. And there were three yawps. You don't know what a yawp is? I'll describe one of liim. Soft hat, slightly cocked, with the bact of the brim turned down. A pasty face, soft pin-collar, bow-tie, striped shirt, striped, brown, or magenta suit, coloured socks, walk-over shoes. Got him? The Knut? Oh, no! Merely a yawp. His chief recreation is picking winnsrs, playing snooker, and holding up hmp-posts at street corners. His other name is WASTER.

In front of tho yawps, en the counter, were three glasses couliining ambercoloured liquid. In the argot of the cognoscenti they are knovn as "sleevers." In front of the soldiers were two glasses of dark liquid with about an inch of euds at the top—"porty-gafis." In front of us—never mind, let's get on with tbo story. Wait a bit, 1 I nearly forgot Philomena. When the curtain rose Philomena was discovered fitting on 'n chair, reading a book. At intervals sho rose, and pulled a brass-finished ornamented handle. TMs operation regulated tho machinery that discharged the "sleevers," of which the yawps took quite a few. Deep peace, broken only l>y the subdued murmur of voice, encompassed the scene. Then something happened; something that quickened the senses and intensified tbo aii'. A ya-wp said something about the war, something cheap, fatuous, silly, to one of the soldiers. The soldier .looked him up and down, and turned to his companion again. The yawp, encouraged by tho sniggers of his mates, thought he'd go one better. "You — swaddies reckon yo own the town; swankin' up an' down with yer gussy eticks and stickin , it on '." "'Scuso mo a minute, Jim." said the soldier to his mate. Then lie turned

to tho yawp, aud fixed him with a cold glare. ' rhilomena, alarmed, put her book down and. canio forward. "You boys must behave yourselves!" she said. "All right, my girl," said the soldier. "I'm just going to tell this joint oft' in a. few well-chosen ree-marks." ' Then /came the sermon. I insist that it was a. sermon—a sermon for all yawps to hear, and digest, if their unworthy stomachs nto capable of it. "Stickin' it on, aro we?" ho began. The yawp wilted, but the ' cold "laio 'held him. as the lion holds the antelope, the. tiger the deer, the rattlesnake the rabbit. "And YOU?" ho went on. "What ate you ? What do ye think ye are? 1 know your breed. Scowsy, louiigin', shirkin', yellow shysters. To think because ye can pick winners, sort out a double, take a baby down at snooker, Jill yourself up to the neck without gettin' run in, that you'ro a man. My oath • You're a hcluva man!" Ho paused for breath, and tho yawp mado a desperate effort to rehabilitate himself. "What's it got to do with you?" ho said, with feeble truculenco. "What's it no to do with mo?" Tenlicd. the soldier, shooting his head forward so that the yawp visibly quailed. "Everything! Ever volunteered? Eh? Answer mo, or I'll " "Time enough when I'm pinched in Jimmy Allen's raffle," sneered the yawp. "And then—d'ye know what'll happen to ve? Medicullv unfit, that's wbnt. Yβ know it, aud y'ro glad of it. You poor s\yipe! I've been on the Peninsula. IVe been in France. See this?" Hβ rolled back his sleeve—the wrist was twisted all awry. "That's what I got fighting for YOU. And you're worth it! I don't think. Don't worry. Wo don't want you out there. We want to know who wo'ro fighting with. You're the sort that, gets sick over nothing and loafs in hospital. You're the sort that schemes for a soft job behind the line and comes back with a whole ekin. Aw— get out of here before you're pushed! D'ye hear!" The three yawps, aware that the push' wns imminent, cot out. Silonco supervened. Then Philomena laughed. We stared at her. She pointed to the yawps's three glasses-they were all lull— iirifl laughed again. So did we.