SHINGLES FROM AN OLD ROOF.

Hawke's Bay Times, Volume IV, Issue 188, 19 August 1864, Page 2 (Supplement)

SHINGLES FROM AN OLD ROOF.

BY A FREE AND EASY SHINGLER. HUNTED BY A BORE. Happening to be down in the township the other evening when Cobb’s menagerie came in, I strolled over to the Inn, to see with what manner of animals it was freighted. Out they came, —a motley group,—and I had made two or three mental notes of their peculiarities, when I felt a tap —soft and greasy as the touch of a process-server—on my shoulder, and turning sharply round, I found myself confronted by a gentleman whom I instinctively recognised as a Bore. A swinish grin distended his grisly visage, and lighted up his bloodshot eyes; bis broad snout turned up as if he scented his victim; and his yellow tusks gleamed truculently in the fading twilight. I did not remember the creature at first; but when he grunted out his name, it flashed across my mind that I had been nearly bored to death by the fellow when in Dunedin, where he lodged in the same house as my unfortunate self. He was a Laputan philosopher of no mean degree ; brimful of inventions, which would have put to shame the celebrated professors of that great country. Extracting sunbeamsjfrom cucumbers was a mere trifle to him ; and as for measuring a man for a suit of clothes by taking his altitude with a sextant, pooh ! why he had discovered a process for doing it with an aneroid barometer. Now boar hunting is, no doubt, ?a very pretty pastime for the genus homo, though perhaps not quite so agreeable for the boar. But to be hunted by a Bore is quite another matter. My first impulse was to fly anywhere—anywhere out of his reach. But as he had already pinned me by the button-hole, I could not effect a retreat a la Joseph, by leaving my garment in his hands. So I prudently resolved to submit to my destiny, and endure the coming infliction as best I might. “ You cannot concaive,” he cried—he was a Milesian Bore, I may tell you—“ how deloighted I am to meet ye. Give thravelled all the way from Dunadin, over the dirthy roads—bad cess to thim —in this inclement saison of the year, purposely to see ye; for oive discovered an invintion that will be the making of every sowl that has anything to do with it, and ye are the only gintleman in the counthry capable of ondersthanding Jit.” “ Really,” I- began, but he stopped me at once. “ Augh ! there, don’t say a word. A man of your janius can’t conceal his talents. Come in, now!” To avoid an unseemly struggle I suffered him to drag me into the inn, where, regardless of my protests, he bawled for two glasses of gin. “ The only thing fit to drink in the place,” he remarked, “ Wait till I taich him how to produce rael O.D.Y. from theforrmeum tar. fgs /” I was fairly in for it; so I sipped a litle of the gin—a vile liquor, which I most heartily despise—and waited for the denouement. It came with a crash. My tormenter carefully locked the door, first looking up and down the passage to make sure that eavesdroppers were not lurking in the vicinity; then seating himself by my side, he brought down his huge paw with an unpleasantly familiar thwack on my knee, and in a mysterious stage-whisper pronounced the astonishing query—“ How are ye off for chaff?” I began to think that too much invention had made him mad. “ Upon my word !” I exclaimed, “ this is very extraordinary conduct.” “ Be aisy, ray dear Surr,” he replied, with a calmness begotten of superior wisdom —“ Wait till oi show ye.” Off went upper coat and muffler ; and as he laid violent hands on his inner garment, I involuntary looked round for some way of escape, or failing in that, for a weapon of defence. But I had mistaken my man. He merely dived into his capacious breast-pocket, whence he extracted a small brown paper parcel, tied round with a strip of flax, and opening it, displayed for my inspection an indescribable lump of somthing, dingy in hue andrepellant in appearance. “ There,” said he, “ taste that!” And observing that I hesitated, he thrust it under my nose, with an impatient gesture, repeating—“ Taste it, man—taste it.” Now it may be a weak and silly prejudice on my part, but I admit that I do entertain serious objections to tasting articles of diet, which have been carried about :n the pockets of other people. I suppose he read as much iu my countenance, for he hastened to assure me that it was perfectly clean and particularly sweet. So not liking to disappoint him, I took a horaseopathic nibble at the stuff, and not without considerable misgiving, proceeded to masticate it, while he stood over me watching the result. I found it exceedingly tough, but rather tasteless than otherwise. “ Why

it is like chopped hay,” said I, seeing that he fully expected an opinion of some kind. Bedad then, that’s just it,” shouted the fellow. “It’s chaff—that’s what it is. Sure it’s a foine palate ye have ; and now for ray sacret.” I will spare the reader the explanation which the Bore inflicted on myself. Indeed, I am not certain that I could repeat it if I desired to do so. I only know that for an entire hour he held me fast, whilst he expounded the process for converting chaff into what he was pleased to term “ an oighly agraeble and nuthritious condemint.” In vain I essayed to stay that awful torrent of words. Futile were my efforts to get out of the room. He placed his huge bulk against the door, waving me back whenever I furtively approached it. I was fairly at bay, and had to listen, whilst he went through the history of his various experiments in the composition of the vile trash whereof I had been compelled to partake. He wound up at last by proposing that I should join him in a chaff cake manufactory, for which I was to provide the necessary funds, whilst the profits—which he assured me would be enormous —were to be equally divided between us, after deducting “ a mere trifle” of five hundred a-year for his services as manager. At this point, I fairly lost all patience, and insisted, with so much vigour and spirit, on his opening the door, that he reluctantly yielded, and allowed me to pass; not, however, without holding me for a second, and eagerly beseeching me to “ think of it.” I broke from him with an exclamation the reverse of polite, and ramming my hat firmly on my head, set off in the dark for the old roof. As I hurried along j sometimes fancied that I heard his pursuing footsteps ; and the drowsy echoes of his voice must have been ringing in my ears, or I surely heard him calling after me. So impressed was I with this idea, that when I reached the house, I darted in and double-locked the door with such precipitancy that my wife anxiously inquired what was the matter.—“ Matter enough,” quoth I, quoting Shakespeare, as I usually do then irritated—“ I have been sprighted by a Bore ; —sprighted and angered worse. If he comes here, don’t let him in, that is all.” I awoke next morning in no little state of trepidation, and peeped slyly out of the window before venturing to draw up the blinds. But the coast was clear, and I finished dressing with an easy mind. Just as we were sitting down to breakfast, however, there came a knock at the front door, and I heard the Bore enquiring whether I was up yet. It seems that he had been prowling about the house for more than an honr, in anticipation of pouncing on me as soon as I should emerge from my dormitary. Maggie, like a sensible wench, told him that he could not see me, as I was at breakfast; whereupon he politely declared that he would not disturb me at all — he would wait! Need I say that my matutinal repast was spoiled ? The dread of being again bored took possession of me. I bolted ray chop unraasticated, and scalded ray throat with boiling coffee. I thrust on my boots in such hasty agitation, that I encased my right foot in the left boot, and vive versa, and finally I stole away like a guilty culprit, by the kitchen door. In the cornfield, I thought, I shall surely be safe. He will not follow me there. Alas ! for the vanity of human expectations. Before I had fully recovered breath, the enemy was upon me. I saw him stealing up the paddock; and without hesitation I rushed down to the creek and screened myself under some bushes —sitting up to my knees in water, till Sandy, the ploughman, came to assure me that the bore had retreated. For a week afterwards I lived in a state of intermittent siege. He waylaid me as I went to and fro, with such pertinacity that I never dared to venture abroad, till I had ascertained that he was not lurking about the premises. Of course he was not admitted into the house. But one day he found the door open, and walked straight into my room to announce himself. “ Shure Oi heard ye were unwell,” said he (’twas a white fib invented for the occasion), “ so Oi thought ’twould be an excellent opportunity to explain that little matther to ye,”—and out came that villainous chaff cake again. Another time, he suddenly came upon me, on a moonlight night, as I was smoking my pipe in the verandah, and apologized for the untimeliness of his visit by remarking that, knowing I was engaged all day, he had put himself to a “ thrilling inconvaniance” to suit my leisure. It would be tiresome to tell how I got rid of him on these occasions, but his last and final assault I must relate:—One fine morning, just as the cocks were beginning to crow, I heard footsteps in the vprarwloli nrwl Innlfinff nnf- T canr flua Tlnvo patiently awaiting my uprising. I declare a nightmare would have been perfectly blissful

compared to my sensations on beholding him. A cold sweat broke out all over me. I asked myself what crime I had committed, that I should be haunted thus. I felt that I was a modern Frankenstein, and outside the window was my monster pacing up and down with a dull, heavy footfall, regular as clockwork and persistent as Time. In vain I racked my brain for some scheme|for his extinction or suppression. Whilst thus cogitating, Maggie incautiously opened the door, and I saw the detested Bore rush past her, and take up his station in the passage. I could endure it no longer. Arrayed only in my robe de unit, I sprang out of bed, made a sudden rush on ray besieger, and hurled him head-fore-most through the open door on to the softest part of Maggie’s remarkably well-developed person, as that damsel was on her knees, washing the floor of the verandah. Down they rolled together, in most sion. Maggie was the first to extricate herself, and furious at this* unprovoked attack, she soused the still prostrate Bore with the contents of her bucket. He yelled and swore in the choicest Irish—Maggie screamed and objurgated in the most classical Scotch, —two or three dogs joined in the fray, yelling furiously,—and my wife’s parrot shrieked madly, in chorus. Such a horrible din I never heard in my life. Thfc, advent of the dogs settled the matter. As soon as the Bore could release himself from the clutches of my enraged Amazon, he fled howling, closely pursued by his canine assailants, and I had suffered too grievously to call them off till he was fairly beyond the precincts of the farm. Of course I received a lawyer’s letter. There are always pettifoggers who will take up any dirty quarrel —for a consideration. And of course I have had to pay for my revenge. Twenty pounds—they wanted fifty —was pocketed by the pair by way of compensation for this “ gross case of assaxdt and battery,”—as Mr. Pettifogger called it. But I am content ; for I have got rid of my horrid Bore and his pestilent chaff for ever.