ON AN AUSTRALIAN FARM.

Horowhenua Chronicle, 18 May 1910, Page 4

ON AN AUSTRALIAN FARM.

CHAPTER 11.-CITY ANTICIPA- 1 TIONS. ] fll'li) closo of a summer day, Tea was over at " Fnirlield." Polly and Tilly were in the ' drawing room searching for pieces to try on tho piano. 1 Old John, with a newspaper in his f hands, was stretched on the couch ] in tho dining room studying the i prices of produce. Mrs Dashwood 5 sat at tho sewing machine miming < up a suit for little Andy. In tho i workshod, outside, surrounded with < lights, -James worked steadily at a I .sulky ho waa building after his own I heart. Jtunes was a mechanic—a genius in tho lino of machinery. No | implement ovor came to the farm < but what he pulled to pieces and i improved upon in somo _ way or other. In a small, untidy room, i off tho fron/t verandah, full of all manners of odds and ends from < books and magazines to bullocks' horns and bean seeds, reclined Peter, his foot on tho table, studying a magazine. Buried in a padded arm chair in the drawing ; room with her knoes crossed, silently manipulating a sot of knitting needles with rare dexterity, sat Granny talking to herself. At her feet sprawled little Andy, at intervals removing ono of her slippers and fitting it on again. " Ah sees maizo bo a pound a beg, Elahser," remarked old John, putting aside the newspaper and turning to his wife. "A pound a bag! That's a, lot, •isn't it, Father?" she answered, taking up tho scissors and snipping a thread. "Ah-h; moro'n it's been for a good few year." "And will we have much this season, John?"—adjusting 'the cloth to her machine. "Abaht 000 begs—may be more." "That's very 'good, isn't it?" wheeling on her chair and facing her husband. "Ah-h, it be then, when yow coomes to thenk how things wer' 1 with us twenty year ago." "Indeed yes!"—with a hint of sadnoss in her voice—"wo could hardly make both ends meet then, John!" \ "Very of'en us didn't, did us? i But noothin' soccoeds lahke sooccess. In them days when ns sold a crop, Elahser, we bo as of'en as not in debt. Wert sop An' n-ah as tluw's no-much need to malind how thengs go, tho mooney it rolls in ba'h tho bushel." Then taking pencil and paper old John went into calculations on tho year's returns from maize, whea't, pigs, horses, cattle-, etc. "" Abaht £1800 we be amakin' aycar, Elahser," ho said, glancing up. "£1800! So much as that! Why, you won't know what to do with it all soon, Father." And Mr,i Dashwood laughed ploasanitly. " Waint Ah but," and old John fell into reflection. Then, as ho returned tho pencil to his pocket: "Well, wo's '11 bo all atakin' a hahliday for one theng wi' soomo oil it, Elahser. What abaht tins trip to the city? If us don't'maka it soon may be soomo yun o , us '11 bo trippin' to 'tother sahde o' th , grave wi'out a. return ticket." Feeling ho had mado rather a good joke old John began to chuckle. "Oh, that will bo splendid," ami Mrs Dashiwood's eyes sparkled with Ithe pleasure, of anticipation. "The children will be pleased when they hear of it." "Ah baint be sure abaht it be-in , splendid," and old John chuckled more. "Thet will derpond hah some o' us have kept th , Commendments." Mrs Dashwood saw tho joke, and said with a smile: "But I mean the it rip to the city, John." "Ah-h, I knows," old John replied kindly. "And you'll take Maria, too, won't you, Father? (Maria was their married daughter.) She would be so glad to como, and it would do the habv a lot of good." "Take 'n? Wliah not? 4,et 'n all coome. There be lots o' room for 'n dahn there, an' the more of 'cm th' merrier." Tho piano was heard to rumble and vibrate like tho warning notes of an approaching thunderstorm. "That's Tilly I" ..irs Dashwood said, assuming a. listening atltitude. "Ah-h," rejoined the husband indifferently. Music was not ono of his strong points. Then the voice of Polly rang through tho liouso as she began to sing full and sweet. "One of the songs Tilly brought from the Grammar School," Mrs Dashwood informe dold John. " 'Dear Orothong.' It's pretty, isn't it?" "Ah-h," was the answer. "Ah-h. Them spiles they're singin' but, bah tin-ktititlin , the words wi' the pianny the way un do. Thet wern't how ae us used to give a song. Thet bo neither oon thing or 'noother." Tho front door of the drawing room was heard to burst open, and Peter, magazine in hand, unceremoniously intruded on the musical evoning. "Whore's Father?" ho shouted at the broad of Polly's hack as she stood to the piano. "Those meim-o-rties sweet and dear," poured from Polly. ■ "Where's Father?" louder Mian beforo from Peter. "He's n rum un, that fellow," said old John, with an amused chuckle. "But he shouldn't interrupt them," Mrs Dashwood said. Then calling from her place in tho din-ing-room: "Peter! Peter!" Polly reached Itlhe psychological moment in tho song. She was taking a run of high notes. Her voice dwelt long and> tenderly on tho words: "Orothong! De-ar Oro-thong, will you for-r-rget me!" " Forget you!_ Ha! Ha! Ha!" Petor broke in. "Never! I couldn't, unless I lost my memory." Polly ceased in the middlo of her song, and turned and looked indignantly at her brother. Tilly sprang from the. piano stool. "Peter!" she cried, "you silly angora! Go away. It's like your cheek to come in and interrupt." "lib's like your bad , manners not to answer a civil question. Ha! ha I ha!" from Peter. "A civil question!" Tilly echoed. "You should be answered like every other fool, according to your folly! You should be answered with m kick." "Oh, Tilly I" from Polly, who was modest in all things. "So he should—it's too good for him," the other insisted. But Peter had no temper. fto epithet could perturb him. Shoving his nose close to Tilly's flushed! face, he bellowed: "WHERE'S FATHER!" "Hear 'em agoin' at it," said old John, with another chuckle. "How do I know," Tilly snapped, (turning to the piano again. "In

A SERIAL STORY

By " Steele Rudd."

his skin [ suppose," "And when ho jumps out 1 suppose you can jump in. Ha, £ln, Ha!" was tho other's answer. "He's in the dining room along with mother," Polly said quietly. "Oh, well! why didn't you say~so before?" And Peter, with a broad grin, inndo a mock bow as ho doparted. At the door ho 'turned, and lil'itiug his voico to tho -roof sang in a most execrable key:: "Or-ot'h-th-bli-t'hong, don't lor-r-r-get ine-o-i , ." Tho absurdity of tho effort was too great even for his sistors. They both burst into laughter. "What ded yow stop for, pet lambs?" Granny innocently inquired as she rattled on with her noodles. But the girls offered no explanation to Granny. "Start it again, Polly," Tilly said, touching the keyboard. I'dly started the song again. "Xow whalt's your opinion of this, Maithor?" Peter, turning over tho pages of tho magazine commenced as ho entered the dining room. "What bo it, lad?" said tho parent. "There's someone writing in this nboiiit different kinds of humour, and explaining what is humour, and what isn't humour; and lie quotes this aa a sample, or whatever you like to call it, of the best jokes tha.fc have made people laugh. ,, "Did it make thoo laugh, lad?" interrupted tho parent. "It wouldn't make a cat laugh, leather, I reckon," answered Peter. "Ah-h; then it baint bo a good yun, Ah reckons. Head uu alrt." And old John, with confident, critical air, settled himself to listen and adjudge. In all points and questions of humour old John was the High Court and Privy Council of tho Farm. "Well, T can't read i!fc all to you," Peter explained, "because thorp's a picture with it. There, see?" displaying Phil May's black and white sketch of an asylum wall with a ma ivout.side it, fishing in tho river, and a warder on the wall waitehing tho angler. "Ah-h," remarked tho parent, : "thet bo th' mad house, an' Ah ! sooppose. th' joako it bo a bit M-ackcd." "Just what it is. Ha, ha, ha! You've struck it, Father. Not bad, not bad. Ha, ha, ha!" Okl John accepted tho compliment with ono of his broadest smiles. "Did you hear that one, Mother?" I '.titer asked enthusiastically of Mrs Diishwood. Mrs Dashwood nodded and smiled at the great humorist. "Doan't matter," said he. "Go on. read 'n aht." Peter continued : "Tho cove, tho warder on >tlio wall, says to the chap fishing: ' Gettin , ' any bites? , " "Well, 'u what do '<• say?" inquired old John. " 'None yet.' " "Well," and old John shifted position so as to collect all his mental forces, "'n wha'.t then?" "Then the cove on tho wall so?.—" Peter peered hard into tho magazine. "What 'n do 'e say?" tho parent interrupted. "Soz to him: 'How long havoyou been fishing?' " "Hah long 'e been feshin' ;" repeated the other for his own benefit. Then to Peter: "Bo there any more?" "The cove then sez," Pet'i'i , went on, " 'About three hours.' " "Abaht three hours." old John repeated. "Abaht threo hours." Then loaned back as if k> solve the problem. "Wait a bit, Father, itbat ain't all of it. This is where the joke is." And Peter prepared to read somo more. "Ah-h," said old John, "Ah thought summit wer' loft aht," and ho came to "attention" again. " ' Como inside,' the cove on the wall sez," and Peter looked up and grinned at his perplexed: looking parent. "Did ever you here such ■a joke?" he said, putting down tho magazine. Old John stroked his chin and pondered profoundly. "Coomo insahd!" ho muttered, staring up at the ceiling. "Coome insahd! . . .Abaht threo hours! . . . Coomo insahd!" " Ha. ha, ha!" Peter burst out. "Did ever you hear such a rotten thing?" "Wait tho', wait tho'. wait on," and old John loaned further back, and pressed his brow with his big palms. "Come inshad," ho mumbled once more. "Come out of tho wet, I suppose he meant," and Peter laughed in ridicule once more. Peter seemed anxious to cajole the High Court into a hurried and impartial decision. But old John wasn't to bo hustled. "Yow'vo got 'n mixed wi' th' picture, lad,' 'ho said at laslt. "There bo summit niissiii'. Head 'n till aht in ono piece." Pett\r took fup tho magazine again, and read quickly: "Getting any bites?' "None yet." "How long bavo you been fishing?" "About threo hours." "Como inside." "Ho, ho, ho!" roared old John, jumping up. "0' course. Ho! ho! ho! Ho! bo! bo! I'b be a good joke. Don't 'n see it? Ho! ho! hoi Coomo insahd." Peter was perplexed. His parent whacked him on tho back with his big hand, and cheerfully delivered judgment: "Coomo insahd," ho chuckled, "an' got a fesh from th' ketchin' and put 'n bis lahiio." "Ha, ha, ha, bah," Peter broke out like a crack of lightning, ami banging his knee with the flat of the magazine, yelled: "That's it, father; that's it, and I'm hanged if I sa.w it! Pla, ha, ha! A good ono lit is too. Como inside! Ha, ha, ha, hah. Well, I'm blowed." "Oh, it bo plain as a furrow,' ■ said old John, "plain as you like. Oh, yos. Coome insahd!" And ho shook his head merrily, i Peter returned to the magazine and began to study tho joke again. "Can you see it, mother?" ho • asked, grinning at Mrs Dashwood. "Oh, yes," she answered with ; quiet indifference-, "but I'm more interested in the trip to tho city. "Eh, what mother?" Peter asked pricking his ears quickly. Mrs Dashwood explained. Peter forgot all about the joke , in an instant. 'What?" 'he cried, "the whole lot i oif us for a month?" His mother nodded. Peter jumped over several chairs. "Ah-h,"" old John confirmed. i Then quoting inscription on a podt . card that had been going the ! rounds: "Th' whole dem family." "John!" Mrs Dasliwood said reprovingly. ! Peter rushed iaway to the drawing room, and shoutedith'egkd news to his sisters. They both deserlted the piano.

"Tho city! All of us?" they cried, nncl flew to their parents for confirmation. "Yes, your ftnthor is going to t:ike us all," Mrs Dashwood answered. And old John'added: "Ah-h, th' whoto lot on y\" "The whole deni family," Peter slioulted, appropriating l»is parent's jest with a loud laugh. Tilly was carried -away with excitement. She ran to her father, piuchod his ruddy ■cheeks, and called him her "dear old father." Old John made no demur. Ho smiled in enjoyment of it all. "And when do wo go, motherP" Polly asked. "As soon as we can get re«dy/ was the answer. Tilly wrung her hands. "And iit's tho opera, season," she cried. "We'll see an oprea, i'oll. Tho Gondoliers" (breaking into a lively •aid and singing). "Oil, tho beautiful Gondoliers." Then seizing liokl of her sister, dftiicing fashion, sho began swinging her round. Polly responded willingly, and around they careered like ai whirlwind. "Girls! bo careful!" Mrs Dashwood culled ns the . furniture becamo ■endangered. "Oil, lioh ; them beautiful Gondoliers!" Peter shouted in imitation of Tilly, and grabbing a chair for a parltnor joined furiously in the wnltze. "Peter!" his mother protested, "Peter!" "Oh, them bountiful Gondo J , Peter bumped heavily against his sisters, and his refrain was cut short. "Gondoliers," he continued regaining his equilibrium and pursuing them. Through the door and into tht dlrii.wi'ng room tho girls twirled, where with a. shriek Polly separated from her partner and dropped into a chair. But Tilly's delight knew no bounds. Taking a shoilb grip of her skirts she cinematographed to :i series of high kicks and cak'o walk. On'co sho kicked* over Granny's head, while Polly loaned back in her chair and shrieked. Tilly's antics flooded Granny's memory with pleasures of the past. A youthful feeling took possession if jior. ITor eyes .shone like stars and her head started to nod. Tilly kicked ou/t in her vicinity ngain. Granny, half slippered, took tho floor, and. catching tho sides of her dross, faced Tilly in Irish jig style. Polly threatened to injure herself somewhere with merriment. She wriggled and shrieked and wriggled. Peter dropped his wooden partner on tho whatnot nnd applaud wl his grandmother. Then he yelled: "Father! father! mothor! for tho love of me. lok here! Ha! ha! ha! ha! hn-hl" Old John and Mrs Dashwood, amazed and aniused-looking, camo to the drawing room door, and gasped. "Well ah never!" gasped old John. Forgetting all about her cramps and sore hack, Granny laid to it. Peter, with no nioro idea of music than ft plough horse, rushed to tho piano and banged it violently in the interests of Granny. "Well, ah never ded!" gasped old John again. Little Andy raised himself up, and guffawed". Then he started out t« create n part for himself in the play. He placed his head on tho carpet and essayed to stand the wrong way up. "Hoh," he cried when his heels were in tho air. Then he lost his bearings, and toppled over, and his legs fouled Granny and made trouble. "Oh! Oh!" Polly cried, anticipating tho catastrophe. The next moment Tilly and Granny and little Andy were all engaged in the "sacks on tho mill' .act. Old John and Mrs Dashwood became alarmed on the ag'exl one's account, and .hurried to her neai&tance. "Oh, yer 'untritn' nip," Andy squeaked. "Ha, ha, ha!" Peter laughed, when Germany was put 'back into her padded chair, "what did you think of the music?" "Poor Granny!" Polly murmured. Then after a short giggle, "It was a shame!" " And it was all your faultt, you Handy Andy!" Tilly said, scowling upon the grinniug culprit. "Oh. she baint be hurt," old John assured them. "There bo <n lot o' kecks in her yet." "I never thought she could danco at all," Tilly laughed. "Oh. mah word," replied old John, with pride in eye. "Sho wer' a champion in her tahme. You should hear th' auld hands what know'd her in her young day aitalk abaht her. Ah seed her maself on naht knock three well sinkers an' two mosicians. Wert so, mother ?" Mrs Das'hwod 'assured her daughters it was so. "And what did they do with her then, FatherP" Peter asked. "Do?" answered his parent with a puzzled look, "wha, what 'd you do, lad?" "I'd have put hobbles or a, sideline on her. Ha, ha, ha." Old John stared indignantly at his flippant son. "Three partners!" Polly put in. "It must have beon a compcttition, not a dance, Father." "Call 'n what yow lahke," answered old John, "but she don it. There was an interruption. Granny suddenly broke out in a fresh place. Her thin, frail voice piped into song. "Ha. ha, hah," camo in greeting from Peter. , "Sh-sh-sh-sh," and old John held, up bis hand to silence Petor. Polly titered irresistibly. OKI John silenced her. Peter discovered that Granny was sinking without accompaniment. He" sprang to the piano and dtruck a series of notes tenderly, .and threw broad grins over hie eholder in the course of his performance. Then as granny strained to raise her voice he put in in run of heavy ■punches that nrttrddted attention. Alarmed for tho safety of tire piiano Tilly crossed the floor to reason with Peter. , „ "That be a rare old son o Her n, old John, with beaming face, informed his family. "Do you wanib to break ltr" Peter!" Tilly cried. "Ah-h, a great auld song!' whispered old John, as granny entered upon the second verse. "Peter!" Tilly protested again, "Peter, do you hear?" "Turn over - quick!". Peter ) shouted. "I'm a bar behind. "You should 'bo, too, you lun- ; atie." And Tilly levered him hy •tho coait collar. Peter started to choke. "S-s-s-stead-y!" he gasped. Tilly .released her grip, and wt j him on the neck. > "Yow! mighty!" Peter yelled, jumping to his feet. "Hoot! hoaltl" "from old John. Doan't 'n mek sooch a misel" ; Peter stood, rubhing Ms neck, > and graining with pain, j Tilly closed the piano. i All eyes were turned to grantoy.

She was feebly reaching for somo top notes. Polly, anticipating a breakdown, threw her voice in wiltih granny's. Old John, holding one hand >ahoro th'o other, stood prepared to applaud his pa/rent. Up wenit granny's voice. Up went Peter's. "Hβ like a sol-jeer fell!" he yelled. "Oh, loord!" cried old Joihn, and with 'his hands 'to his bars, hurried back to the dining room.