The Coming of the Mobies

Horowhenua Chronicle, 19 July 1916, Page 2

The Coming of the Mobies

♦ A I'A:MiLY TO LIFT THE HEART'S LATOH. (By A. Neil Lyons.) Spring. has many ushers, an J is 1 uaided by divers 6igns. So:ne people look For these signs among ae hedj,/.1 mi's; others seek them in the sky or listen for them-in the nig it, while other people neither look nor listen, but go smelling about, or t-tand on hilltops, tastnig.

Kor m.y own part, I do not fatigue myself in this matter. L go ii:>uuc my irawful occasions with cold feet, smoking tobacco, avoidiug clergymen, eating sausages, emitting letterpress And sooner or later the Monies come, wheeling iu spring; wheeling it to inv very door, on an old perambulator. 1 then know for cortru t 'at spring has arrived. 1 then Know for certain that there are blac&'jin.ls in the thicket, and tits among ihe goise, ■and that cowslips, ladysmock, and the lyrical manner are in season.

It anything happened to the Alobie.j and their old perambulator, ! .sliuurl have to fall back on my calendar.

But—thank God— the pera ncJlatoiir, still so and and stable. It was mode in those agreeable, far off o'ayt> when perambulators "were" pe'i'inLnilators, and Coventry "was" Coventry, and works ot' iiction did 'lot always sinel) of iodine. When J look at thy d old perambulator, and muse upjn tLe changes which Time, and the portable baby carriage, and Sir Jesse Hoot have wrought in the civic economy oi my happy country, I liut let us pu;>; e the Mobies. •

So shall we cultivate the lyrica' manner.

The 'Mobies have lifted tlie 'atcli ot my heart, and spring has ente-.cd in.

11 sroit5 r oit want to know who or what the dLobies are, they 1 are man and wile, properly authenticated, under nuptial jaw, with a seven-aud-s:x-peniiy license, and with power to add tc their number. They adrl to it yearly; for ground game is cheap, and bracken is everywhere, and your Mobilette is a hardy infant. Al! lie asks of God is rabbit stew, stout hedges, and a little pair of breeches.

The Mobies have been coming every yeai tor six years to the house which 1 inhabit. First of all there were lour Mobies: Mr. Moby, Mrs. Moby, the perambulator, and the sucking -Mobv. Now there are seven Mobies, not counting the perambulator. ills. Mobv wears a dress of faded

tartan and an old, brown bowler hat. Mr. Moby wears trousers, i.itely the proporty ot an author; a blue jersey, and a coat containing fourteen pockets. lno little Alobies wear shirts and little bnvciios,—all except Gertrude -Moby, who wears only a shirt. Gertrude Moby came to my door this morning. She uttered tho usual speecn, beginning, "Please, kind gentleman I" "You can wash out all that," I bald ; "what is it this morning, Gertrude?" ''Please, kind gent>jmnn, can you spare me a little bit of cotton?'' responded Gertrude. ''Ale bruvver's to red his trousers; he can't jump about." Wo supplied the necessary material for reconstructing -Gertrude's brother on a sound, progressive basis. "And muvver says,"continued We.-r-------rude Moby, "I was to see if you was the same gentleman an usual, if it ifl then its all right, and you can come acros and speak to us." Hut I don't remember if you was the sumo gentleman or not. There was 'i gei'tleman gimme some bull's-eye suckers «i this 'oust* Inst year. But T can't remember the gentfcman : not to look nt. But 1 remember tho «uck.sc.-». They was .Taller un»."

I accepted, Mrs. Moby's agreeable invitation, and walked across the r«. id to si hawthorn busti, beneath which all the Mobies were assembled, in company with their perambulator, some discarded footwear, and a number of rnbbitskins.

Mr. Moby sat 011 the perairibnl'ibir amongst the rabbitsivinn, blinking ;it nothing in particular, and picking nt his teeth. Mrs. Moby knelt on tho earth, stewing tea leaves over a little fire which was .sheltered by the Fami'v chariot. All the iTltlc Mob>'S in their ragged little breeches patter;l about among the flints in mid-iano. blowing hard at Fools-parsley whist »~s, ■which were graduated in length an'' .shrillness according to the vary i n,* stature of tlie musicians. T observed that the family perambulator had been freshly painted, Bind that its ulterior panel lwid been adorned thus t Wm, Moby : Gen'l Dealer. Ilnbbits Skine, bottles, Hags, Bones, andcetra. Licensed PedVir. 'Cloud nioruin' me gentleman,'' said Mr. Moby. „We're 'ere agam, ya see. Fetch out ya're i\ibbit ski is. Mar, bring out the baby. Therj another Moby, Mieter." Mrs. Moby, in obedience to the command of her captain, produced horn the adjacent undergrowth a buadle containing squirm. This package the oarefully and deliberately unwound, exhibiting incipient 'Moby, mas -ul :-e. plump and rubicund. "I did hope," said Mrs. Alt-by. "that Walter her® would h-' born teneath a roof. But he's ciadle'l in a dick, the same as all the obhj.H." "She's a. discontented womm, Mrs. Moby in," said Mr. Mobv. "No. Will, no!" protected 'Mrs Moby. Not discontented, only prmid like. Ya see ,fiir, T was born ir«ide <1 'ouse meself. And 1 a si.si er as is married to a man what wo'-l-.s on the railway. Alfl her cuildren was born inside a 'ouse. I don t complain. T aiiit discontented. But I must «av I would lite to roar 1 m under cover—them what's vnt tn com "Rare 'em under cover," repeatd Mr 3Toby, with derision. "That's a woman to the life, that is. Look at them nippers there, sir. T)id ever you see a 'ealthier set o' nippers? There ain't a mopcr in the bunch. There ain't a kid among 'em as isn't ditchreaTed. Confound va're 'ouses. Let 'em TTe 'eathily in the fuzz, same as their father and 'is father done. Look nt our Benny there—that yaller-'aired bov —did ever you see u better collared one? 'E've never lived iu no 'ou.se. Five year old 'e is, and e'll snare a gray-bird or stone a rabbit wi' the best o' them." "Mr Moby," stated Mrs Moby, " 'e talk a bit impatient sometimes. 1 areunt got naarthun to say again the dick; on'y that would please me, that would, for to rare 'eni under cover, just a uabchick or two, if it's on'y to git upside*® o' that sister o mine what's married to the railwayman "All right mother!" cried Mr Moby. "We'vo heard all that before. Don't overcome the gentleman. Tie up number seven, now. l'nt the little Moby in the fuzz. And give the gentleman a cup o' tea. And you little Mobj'es, there; stop blowing on them whistles.- There's a chap in the balder flush as can whistle better nor you." All the little Mobics put their pipes away. All tho tlfti? Mobies cocked their ears, standing barefoot on the flint. The artist on the alder bough put up his throat and sang that little old thing of bin in F : "Did be do it ? Did he do it? "Yee, he did!" cried all the little MoWes in reply. "Yes- he did! Yes ho aid I" Oh, they lifted the litch of my heart!— From ''Moby Lane and There, abouts," by A. Neil Lyons.