Old Grumble

Feilding Star, Volume XIV, Issue 89, 17 January 1893, Page 2

Old Grumble

Contihtjks to Describe his Fibst ATTBMPr AT ImPBOVING THE MASSES. Grumble watted until he beard those noble enthusiasts in the cause of re generation working away "full blast." Then he slipped quietly out. of his dressing room, and saw that a detachment of the irresistibles (lasses) were already deploying among the shearers, who were rapidly surrendering to them, throwing down their shears, and being dragged captives bj their victors to a row of drums of sheep dip— improvised into penitent forms. Soon Grumble was the only one leFt uncapturen*. Then he, too, fell, one of the mvincibles getting at him. and leading him to a tar pot, on which she laid a board, sat liitu upon it and then plumped herself down beside him. Grumble began to think it was all over with him and was giving himself up to the fair Delilah, when lie caught sight of Mrs Grumble coming towards them. In an instant he broke from his bondage, sprung from his seat — thereby toppling Delilah over— and began vigorously rol* ling up the fleeces on his bench, and so attentively engaged at his work was he by the time Mrs G. reached his side, that she had to ask twice of him : " Where's the organ, Grumble ?" before he seemed &ware of her presence. On the second time of the question being asked, however, Grumble, after giving a startled iump at the unexpected appear* ance of his wife, pointed sadly to the piece of mechanism now lying discarded I and up»side»down in the corner, and said with a dismal shake of the head : " It's gone cronk." Mrs G. spoke no more, her heart was too full, but went to it, stood it up, gave a turn or tw# at the handle, and eyoked as many squeaks from it, then gave it as unceremonious a kick as Grumble had done before, and . left it. Meanwhile, the hands, taking advantage of her engaged attention, slunk back to their work unpefceived by her. The Army also began to speak of retiring, until she begged of them to give her a tune— just one before they left. The leader tried to be excused, averring that they had played all they knew. -' Don't you know ' The March of Intel* lect,' " asked Grumble, now joining m The leader did hot, but inspected it was of the same stamp as " The March of the Mulligan Guards," and as that was too vulgar to play, 'there was but one thing left,' he said, ' and that in ' The Hurricane March,' ' which I composed myself, but it is hardly safe to play it inside a building, being very strong, and written expressly for the streets to awe the irreverent. " I think you might venture it" said Grumble. " Very well, as you will," returned the musician, allowing himself to be over-ruled, " But I'll not be responsible for the consequences " "Of course not," said Grumble, " I*ll take all risk." On these conditions the band struck np that tempestuous tune that bad so often before broken the bri» dies of horses hitched up to post?, and sent them galloping riderless through the .streets. Soft and soothing, as of Zepliers stghing were the opening sounds of that woundrous tune, but they momentarily grew louder, accompanied by gusty vocal squalls, until in gathering strength, blast after blast came rushing through the brazen pipes, and the temperature felt so low that the workers put on their coats. Soon the windows began to rattle, and the doors to bang, while the sheep hnddled together, alarmed at the disturbance. Then came sounds, piping, whistling, screeching, clattering, tearing, thundering — altogether they arose totthe roof in one tumultuous din, and lifted a sheet of the iron . roofing off ; in the midst of which the composer stepped up to Grumble, and shouting in his ear, said " This is music if yon like ; your hands are having such an intellectual feast as they never had before." Grumble said he believed it ; but at the same time begged the speaker to moderate the tornado, which he thought might be done, having once learned the elements of music himself, and stating that " Mrs Grumble was a bit nervous." The com* poser, however, declared that " nothing could stop it, and that it must expend its fury, and die out itself. " When will it die," asked Grumble with trepidation, as he felt sure that if that march continued its violence much longer the building would be a wreck: " See that man with that bassoon " said the composer, pointing to a player whose cheeks showed the desperate force he was throwing into the instrument. "Yes" re tnrned Grumble " Then when he either bursts hts cheeks, or splits that bassoon, the storm will moderate, and not before." Grumble now began to tremble for his safety, especially as be saw the bands had all fled. Luckily, just at that moment the bassoon caved in, and un* unrolling its coils, straightened itself out (to use Mrs Grumble's own word*) " like an Archangel's trumpet." At that same instant the bead of the drum also burst in twain ; and with its death the march was over, and Grumble breathed freely oace again as he saw the back of the last of that illustrious band turned upon him, and watched the amazons (one in par* ticular) retire from the field. So absorbed was he in that occupation that he heeded not the suspicious eye ot Mrs Grumble that was fixed upon him, until he heard her querulous tones asking " Have you not had enough of this torn- foolery yet ?" Then Grumble dejectedly withdrew; but the evil of that hurricane march, who could tell P For the morrow found the shearers down with influenza through it. That was bad enough, but when Grumble was billed for the damage done to the Army's bassoon and drum he declared that their professions of good were nothing else but blow. And much ns he had the welfare of his people at heart, he would never allow either the Army or their music in his wool-shed again, but would attempt some other means of edification for his servants in the future.