Baptized in the Flood.

Hawke's Bay Times, Issue 1531, 5 December 1873, Page 37

Baptized in the Flood.

A TRUE STORY OP NEW ZEALAND,

[FROM SI'AXOLES AND SAWDUST.]

(Concluded.)

Of course, all eyes were turned on the new comer as he entered, who seemed almost bewildered as he looked round. The scene must have been to him what the guv'nor would have called bizarre. First, there was me, sitting on a side tent (I was doing the bearer in the perchc business) putting spangles on a pair of old trunks. Round the lire were ranged the monkey boxes, for we had a dog and monkey show with us, which the guv'nor worked, and the beggars had to be kept warm. The monkeys made an awful row, chattering and grinning when the guest came in, for performing monkeys are awful spiteful, and don't like strangers a bit. Then there was little Johnny Simms, my mounter, and the rowdiest cuss in the concern, straightening the old nails on the thunder-sheet. " Stash that row !" says Archie to liim ; and then inviting the parson to sit down near the fire, he put his horse along with ours, and came and sat down beside him.

The parson looked round in tlie gloom as lie came in, and said " Good evening, gentlemen ;" but nobody spoke except Johnny, who said to the boss, " Twig his nibs," and was immediately shut up by being told to " cheese his barragin." There was a dead silence in the tent for some minutes, for the parson was halffrightened, and we were not used to such society, and felt uncomfortable and out of place. At last, Burnt Johnson whispers to Archie, " Maybe the gent 'ud like somethink to heat."

"Thank yon, friend," says the parson, staving at Burnt Johnson, who was the ugliest chap I ever see, ''not at present, but when you take your own meal I'll join you if you don't mind." Our chaps liked this, because it seemed sociable like, and moved a little nearer round the fire. The parson kept staring at Burnt Johnson as if ho had seen a ghost. Well he might, for Johnson, who was our cannon-ball man, did look a beauty without paint. He had his nose broken and flattened, and one side of his face was burnt and scarred at the chin, which was drawn in a straight line to his neck. He had lost the eye on that side, and the other half of his face was pitted by small-pox. Yet that man, with all his ugliness, sitting there on a tnrncd-np bucket, poor, ignorant, a wreck of humanity almost, a man of no mind, who had to depend on his brute strength for his daily bread, was a hero, sir, although I dare say that the idea of being one never crossed his mind.

It was this way. Me and him was engaged one pantonine season at one of the theatres in Sydney ; him to do the panty, and me the sprite business. This night the introduction was just over, and the rise and sink was working to open the transformation scene. The ballet ladies were behind getting into their places, and we were standing in the second entrance ready to go on, when there was a sudden shriek. The scarf of one of the girls had caught fire at a ground row, and in an instant she was all in a blaze. Johnson saw it, and snatching up a table cover, he darted on, and had it over her, and she in his arms, he beating down the fire. It was over in a moment, but he was sadly burned about the face, and the sight of one eye was gone. There was a rash and the girl was carried away to the green-room. «* Don't mind me," said he, (( 1 ain't

hurt, not much, but hurry up and get me another wig and some paint, quick!" The manager wanted to go on and make an apology, but he wouldn't hear of it. " No," said he, " I ain't agoin' to queer the pitch for a little pain. Fetch me some bismuth and Vermillion, and plaster it on this burn." It was done. He did it himself. There, at the wing, with the laughter and applause of a houseful of spectators ringing in his ears, with the fierce agony of deadly pain throbbing in his face, yet with a hand that never faltered, he covered up the unsightly blisters with paint, pulled on another wig, and went hobbling on, and wagging his chin at the delighted audience as if he enjoyed it. He went through, apparently better than ever, but when the curtain dropped he caught me by the shoulder. " I'm burnt had, young mi," says he, " but I done my duty. How's the gal ?" and then he fell off into a dead faint. He was laid up for a week, and the lessee behaved handsome to him, and so he ought. He was a quiet sort of cove, was Burnt Johnson, and never said much about it, but that was how he got his name.

"Well, Archie seeing the parson staring so at Johnson, took him on one side, and quietly told him this little story; and the parson, when it was over, goes right up to Johnson, and says he, holding out his hand, "My friend, will you honor me by shaking hands ? You have done your duty, and more than your duty. It was a noble act, sir; you practised where I only preach." Old Johnson hardly knew which way to look, hut he shook the parson's hand, and muttered something about its being " nothink to speak on," and with this, us chaps begin to take a fancy to the stranger, and chat about things in general. Phil Boylcy, our trick act rider, was the first to break the ice. He was a long, lank, slab-sided Yankee, one whom you couldn't mistake for anything else, and had been all round the world in his time. I joined in the conversation, and then did little Jimmy Guest, our agent, who was to have gone on in the buggy next day, and been in Christchurch three or four days before

Talking of one thing and another, something, I don't now remember what, made the parson ask, " But do you never go to church ?" " No," broke in Johnny Simms, " we ain't respectable enough for that, we ain't."

" Nanti palaver," said the Guv'nor, who was a Frenchman, and who worked the dogs and monkeys, and did juggling, " I have heard to say aat in company ze lectle boy should be seen and not heard. You bettair go to your bed if not you can be ceevil." Just then the cry of a child was heard from the guv'nor's wagon, where the females were, and the parson opening his eyes still wider, said, " Dear me, have you got children here ? " " Yes," said Archie, " We carry our families with us, you see. The two ladies, to whom I shall have the honor of introducing you at supper, arc Madame Lcclair, the wife of the proprietor, and Signora Zephyriua, my wife. Madame takes the money at the door, and my wife docs the tight rope and pad riding. The child you heard cry is mine." " May I ask without offence," said the parson, after a short pause, " whether the child has been baptized ? " " Not yet, sir," replied Archie, "we arc sometimes too apt to neglect these things." " No time like the present," said the parson, " and if my services " " Sir," Archie interrupted, " It is a favor I 'ought to have asked. I too was brought up a Presbyterian, and if you would " " It is a duty and a pleasure," said the parson.

The long and the short of it was that the lamps ■were slung round the pole, and the kid was christened in some of the cold, turbid water of the rushing and roaring river. The hand chaps struck up some music when the ceremony was over, and we each put a few bob down to buy the young 'un the usual silver mug when we got to Christchurch, which we did, and had the date and the parson's name engraved on it too. Well, the guv'nor, he wasn't a liberal sort of cove in general, but I'm bless'd if he didn't open his heart that night. When supper was over, he said, " On zhis occasion, I shall have sse hoimair to ask yon all to drink ze child's healt' in a glass of vine, or vichever best you like ; " and blow me if he didn't unlock his private box, and bring out wine and spirits for the crowd. Archie made a speech, and the parson made another, and then we sat down round the fire, and began to tell yarns.