"HOW AWHR YOU?"

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 98, 18 January 1918, Page 6

"HOW AWHR YOU?"

MR. MASSEY AND THE COCKNEY TALE OF A SOUTHERN TOUR "Auld Reekie" has tho following story in the Dunedin "Star":— Ho came into the Ministerial car suddenly and unannounced, and brought with him, as brisk as a clean wind from Strath Taieri, the lively and unconquerable spirit of London. It was a sheer intrusion, of courso; but as tilings turned out. no intruder was ever more welcome.

Tho train had just left Hindon, where so many tourists in passing try vainly to pitch a pebble across tho river, and Mr. Massey was poring over what seemed to bo a typed mile of grievances. The stranger entered, and at once disarmed surprise and resentment. Ho was clearly a man who had stoked across many latitudes and through uncountable leagues of bluo sea. and had a -record of rare, entertainment in strango company in many a dim fo'c's'le and sunlit foreign _ port. His eyes were brighter than a friendly 'Skye terrier's, and lie hugged in one arm an English concertina—"£22 10s., it was, in London, off the Strand." "Tiler bet me along there," he explained gails, pointing back tho gorge, "that I wouldn't come and shake hands with tho bloomin' Prime Minister. I bet them 'ow I would, and Lyr' love me, ahm here. How awlir you, Mister Maussey? You don't know me? I seen you at the Guildball gettin' the Freedom of London. A bit of all right, eh? and I seen you in Southland before that, and hero I am again. You don't mind me comin' in? How awhr you?"

The greeting was irresistible; the typed grievance was laid aside; tho P-ime Minister heartily gripped the horned hand of a true-blue Cockney. Tho genial democracy of Conservative England had united easily with the most genial Conservatism of Democratic New Zealand, and presently London —'sowf-east"—held sway.

"Seoin' as how ahm here," tho musical stoker said, "I may as well give you a bit of music. Did you ever bear tho chimes?"

"Let's hear them," said tho Prime Minister.

The bright eyes were instantly hooded in ccstasy, the instrument with its many shining keys swung about a pale, eager face, and presently the Bells of St. Martin's wero callingcalling over London town. "How's that? All right, eh?"

''Very good, indeed. Go onl" "Rignt 0! The 'Marseillaise.' " And it was the "Marseillaise," with tho gay spirit of Poplar in full sympathy with the martial gaiety of Paris. As the music, embroidered with bold trills, filled the carriage aud echoed among the hills, bringing mauy curious faces to the windows, and surprising stolid folk at wayside stations, one understood why the men of Franco and tho men of England "go West" together as comrades.

Then a Hood of intimate information about the stranger's life and experiences. There was his boy, for example, back of the train with the men that had dared his fawther to shako hands with the bloomin' Prime Minister; and a young mother dead soon after her husband had comc back from trooping ovorsoas; and a holiday for the nipper •ill tho country before returning to an orphanage; and a whole lot of details, revealing the fine character of a British fireman with a concertina and an eager face to make him at homo everywhere. v

"How about 'The Bedouin Love Song'? Do you know it?"

Appreciation extended his "repertoire," and intensified the player's ecstasy, which found unusually clever expression in songs of sobby sentiment, lively marches that lead soldiers through mud and misery with gay hearts, and the queer, jerky compositions that made tho Cakewalk a white man's craze, and now makes staid men rattle their toes to ragtime. A rare programme, indeed, for the manly men that stoko foodships through zones infested with the submarines of murderers .who cannot understand the spirit that made this Cockney the welcome friend of a Prime Minister.

Then a request to Mr. Maussey for his monniker.

Tile word stumped the Prime Minister.

Reminiscence provided an explanation. "I got the King's in Hyde Park," the stranger said: "Fact. Tho coves never luiowed it was King Edward, but 1 pickcd him. Seen him often at tiie Mansion House. So up I goes and asks him for his monniker. He spoke to 1110 as you would. He was a gentleman, was King Edward. 'Ho put his name in my book all right. _ Mr. Massey gave his autograph. "Would you like something clawssy? Right 0. i'li try and give you 'Caval-leri.-i Riisticana.' " Tho atrial was better than many a "turn" at the 'alls. Then "Out on the Deep' 1 and "Bonnie Mary 0' Argyle," with n flourish beyond the compass of any but confident artists. One knew that hero was the true appreciation of Bonnie Mary. Next, reminiscences 01" life on "this side of the Thames/' as the teller told' ii. "Did Mr. Maussey know il'oplar and tho ral thing dalm sowf-easl ?" Mr. Massey had visited Poplar, but otherwise bad to confess to a lack of knowledge of East London. It was obvious that the Londoner believed thai, tiw Prime Minister had missed a opportunity while at Homo, "Ves, my old 0:110 was in Poplar. The missus and the kiddie were with me then. • • ■ The 'ottse was blowu down by <1 raid. It was. A woman ; and live children were killed in the j 'onse. Not tho l'awther; the fawther | was not there at the time." Again one realised why the Londoner loves the Hun ("I don't think"), and j why the deep-sea fireman isn't a pacifist. "1 say, Mr. Maussey, sonny will be anxious" abuht his fawther. I'll go . ictch niin!' 1 ' "Ccrk'iiiy," said the Prime Minister. "'dring him along." A little later a bright toy with the eager face and merry eyes of his fawther decorously entered the Ministerial car. and sat as quiet as a mouse. He, 100. snowed enjoyment of fawther's skill ''011 the concertina." We had a riot ot ragtime in Cavershaiii tunnel. Then, 011 the Kensington up grade, a military medley, with all tho calls .0 a garrison. And, of course, "Keep the Homo Fires Burn-

"Well, I'll g° no,v > Mnussey, and lot ,vou run into town alone. You don't mind mo comin' ill to see you like this? Good-bye; one never knows wlitro we'll meet next time. Goodbye, gentlemen. Come on, son. So And the fawther and the bright, orphan and the, concertina abiuptly left oil their nonfident way in life, leaving pbasant memories behind them. 7 jo r' love me, it was a bit of orl right!