ABOUT JOHNSON.

King Country Chronicle, Volume I, Issue 52, 18 October 1907, Page 3

ABOUT JOHNSON.

[By " Kahikatea."]

In our way through life we meet with many strange things, and make the acquaintance of of many strange people. Some are very funny in their ways, and what adds humour to their behaviour is that they are quite unconscious of it. To them all things are serious, and to draw attention to anything they have said or done is to insult them, and make them lasting enemies" Again, there are many who, while not able to appreciate a joke against themselves, are so mild in their nature, that it is impossible for them to take offence at anything. Such a man was Johnson. Before narrating the adventure I may state that the Johnson I make mention of, is not one of the many Johnsons you are acquainted with ; he is a Johnson quite by himself. All the Johnsons you know are more or less stout people, mostly with red hair, a trifle bald on top — some of them quite so, the only covering they have being their hats. Their faces, however, are a forest of whiskers, except when they shave. Their heads, being more or less bald, show the conformation of their skulls, and you cannot fail to notice the beautiful rise from the temples upwards. This peculiarity brings into view the bump of benevolence, which, as far as my recollection serves me, is characteristic of the Johnsons. My friend Johnson was no exception to the rule, so far as the shape of his head was concerned. His bump • of " give away " was so well developed that it took up a large share of his wife's time to watch, and guard him from the cadgers, by which all goodnatured people soon find themselves surrounded. But for his wife's inherent spirit of economy, Johnson would soon have had to face the public assignee. As I have already said, she had to guard him at almost every turn to prevent him pauperising himself and family. He was unlike other Johnsons in the respect of whiskers. His face was scarcely covered, and had always been innocent of a razor, of which, by the way, he had a horror. His beard was of the straggling order, and he delighted in allowing it to grow as its own sweet will desired. His straggling locks hung in straight Red Indian fashion down about his neck. He wore his hair long, and if he had any vanity at all, it was to cultivate the appearance of what he thought was fit and proper for a literary man. Johnson was tall, and very thin, and when he stood edgewise on it took some time to locate him. He walked with a stoop, and seemed to be always in a meditative mood. He was fond of antiquities, and to tell him of, or give him some late report of new finds about " Thebes," or tell him where he could obtain the latest information about one of the " Thotmes" you made him supremely happy. As soon as the information came to hand his family lost sight of him for the next few hours. During that time Johnson shut himself up in his study, and was lost to the world. Of the affairs of every day life he had little knowledge, but his wife and the family solicitor managed them for him. Of his ancestry he was proud. He was the last of a long line of Johnsons. It was recorded —verbally—that he was even superior to the McLeans, who would not deign to accept Noah's invitation to go for a trip with him in his ark to Mount Ararat, but who said they'd build their own boat (which they did), and about the time Noah and his crew landed in Armenia, the McLeans settled down on the Hebrides. As I have said it was one of the verbal records of the Johnsons' history. They had saved this ark from the previous flood, and they were sailing about with their fishing lines out before the McLeans and Noah had launched their ships off the slips. Johnson was particular, too, how his name was spelt. To put a't 'in it was to make his hair rise. He claimed to be descended from an individual called "John's son," and to put a 't' in his name and address him as Johnston or Johnstone, was about the greatest insult you could heap upon him. In one act you destroyed the beauty of his lineage (so Johnson thought) and, of course he was the person most concerned, so we may as well admit he was right. Coming as he did from such a long line of ancestors, he naturally had a lot of their peculiarities, coupled with what the' Scotch call " a good sitting down." Manual labour was therefore not a necessary part of Johnson's existence ; which for Johnson and those dependent on him, was a great blessing.

He was inclined to dyspepsia, and thought country life would suit him better than th£ whirl of town existence. After discussing the matter with his wife, who, by the way, was both a beautiful and good woman and extremely fond of her husband, they decided to look around and find some suitable place where they could enjoy country life with all its pleasures and benefits. Mrs Johnson, not wishing to thwart him in any way, allowed him to go forth and choose _ the site arid locality. Now Johnson did choose a'bright cheerful place to live in, with fields and lanes, and ponds and lakes, with an odd tumbling brook or so, within easy distance. The brooks were supposed to harbour trout, and report said they did harbour them so securely, that no one ever saw or caught them. What with fowls and ducks, a milking cow or two, grazing for their horses (which they were too frightened to drive), all things sounded beautiful when they made their first start.

Their place was decidedly in the country, so much so that the " greatest plague in Ijfe " the Mayhew Brothers wrote of so many years ago, was their only bar to rural happiness. On Johnson's return one day from one of the abovementioned brooks, where he had gone in fishing quest of the mysterious trout, he was met by his wife in tears. Inquiring the cause of her upset, he learned their, two " greatest it into'tßeiV 7 heads to depart, aud the first intimation of their intention to do so was when the. coach to town pulled up at their front gate. "When the driver bawled out: " All aboard.!" she saw the house;mas""ans cook

come out with their packages and take their departure, telling her tint "it was too lonely," and she could keep a week's wages back. So there she was, left entirely to her own resources, without an3 r one to help her, but the old man who attended to the fowls, ducks, cows and garden. What was she to do ? Johnson had never seen his wife so upset. This was the first time in their married life she had upbraided him, and he was equally perturbed. He tried to pacify her by telling her to " never mind, we will give up the country life, and return to town." In the meantime he would assist her all he could. This brought sunshine to her for awhile, for none knew better than she that all he could do was poor assistance indeed, but like a good woman she decided to make the best of it, and let matters run this course. They arranged that he should rise next morning and kindle the fire, etc., etc., and that she would bath and dress the children, and then come in and prepare the morning meal. In the morning Johnson arose, and full of good intentions made his way to the kitchen. That was a part of the house he knew nothing about, but as I said, he was full of good intentions,'' so he set to work to kindle the fire. He first gathered all the daily papers he could find, and hustling all the pots and pans to one side, he opened up the stove and made a start. He filled the aperture partly full of paper, then taking some billets of wood he piled them on the top until the cavity was nearly full, He struck a match and set the thing alight, and stood back to see the blaze. Ye Gods ! of all the smoky stoves this one beat all No wonder, he thought, the girls left. He rushed to close the door leading to the other part of the house, but all to no purpose. Smoke seemed to be everywhere. It found its way through all cracks and crannies, and into his eyes, nose and mouth. In desperation he dashed a bucket of water on the cursed thing, and so put it all out. He was bathed in persperation. Thinking that the billets of wood had been too large, he took a hatchet to split them up, but in doing so he made a foul stroke, nearly severing the top of one of his fingers on the left hand. This made it difficult to hold the wood. One billet, that must have been possessed of an evil spirit, slipped just as it was split about half way down, and coming together with a snip caught his little finger, and hung on like a thing of life. Grasping him with all the force and malignity that an evil-minded billet could grasp ; nearly nipping the tips of the fingers off and crushing the nail. This was too much. Johnson became frantic, and letting go the hatchet seized the wood in the stove and flung it about the floor. Then, nearly overpowered,, he proceeded to wipe the perspiration from his face and eyes, with the result that his usual placid features were soon bedaubed with a mixture of blood, soot, and charcoal. Whilst his clothing was a picture, his slippers were soaking wet from the spilled bucket of water. Just then Mrs Johnson came on the scene, with, -< Phillip ! Phillip! what is the matter; is the house on fire or what ? " Then she stood and looked at him, and a smile overspread her features as her gaze travelled round the room taking all in. She walked forward to where he stood, and first kissing his mutilated hands, she placed one arm round his neck; with the other hand she snatched a towel, and wiping the blood and grimy mixture from his face, she kissed his cheek. With tears of laughter in her eyes, she said : " You dear old thing, you are so good, and you had such good resolutions too, but you made a mistake ; just one mistake ; you have been trying to light the fire in the oven."