“THREE FACES I HAVE (NOT) SEEN.”

Manawatu Herald, Volume XLIII, Issue 2314, 11 August 1921, Page 1

“THREE FACES I HAVE (NOT) SEEN.”

LOCAL SCHOOL BOY’S CLEVER

ESSAY,

We publish below the clever literary effort of a local St. VI. pupil, written in school. We have not altered the original, except in the matter of punctuation. The writer is a lad of 12 or 13 years of age, and from the essay it will be seen that the writer possesses a, distinctive literary bent, backed by imagination and observation.

“P-p-p-please, sir, could —could you d-d-direct me to Wayside Street?” I nervously asked. “Ter Wayzide Street? Ugh! Go away you impertinent youngster. Can’t you see you’re disturbing me from my noonday meditations?” Then he passed on. The latter speech was made by an ex-sailor, who had spent the principal part of his time on the frolicsome ocean. (I was passing through the country just a few minutes from the village of K ). The speaker's face was round, tanned, cruel, and freckled. About those steel-blue, well-trained eyes J could see not only hard lines., but a cruel, sinister look. His nose may be described as a “big bulbous proboscis. I noticed, too, that it was inclined, if anything, to be a little red —a fact which showed that, like most sailors, he was fond of his rum. Above his upper lip a dark moustache was to lie seen. Next fames that gap out of which this conversation flowed. In this, moving from side to side every moment with a large bulb on it, giving out a horrible odour (how the owner stood it I know not, but when I smelt it I wished myself elsewhere) was a dirty clay pipe. It must have been several years old. Perhaps the owner’s financial position was very low, and he could not, therefore, replace something to fill that vacuum, fol* lie had only a few stumps, or apologies for teeth. Perhaps he wore them away grumbling, 1 thought. Passing down, we see his short, shaggy beard, begrimed with dust, When it saw water, except salt water, which got there accidentally, 1 know not. In short, bis whole face was one that will always leave a vivid impression in my mind. However, with a cheerful “Humph! ’ I went on my way.

[ had not traversed far when my eye caught tlie form of a how and arrows, evidently left there by the happy, care-free young’ child who hounded after a playmate, wishing to overtake him, and had put them down, with expectation of returning shortly after he had caught the fugitive. I walked a few yards, and then, reflecting that I was out of Constable Owen's district, and was therefore quite safe,, turned hack and picked it up. On examining it, I found that the arrows were made of toi-toi bushes, with nails in the ends. Wishing not to spoil the boy's sport, after he had taken so much pains to construct them, I decided to have but one shot. Picking the weapon up, I drew the string hack. “Whizz” the arrow went, flying out of my sight. “Help! Fire! Murder! Pats! Blue monkeys! Cannibals! O-o-h, Gari'oonah, I’m shot! Spare me! The sky’s fallen in! On me, too! O-o-o-o-h! Ow! I’m drowned!” My curiosity was- aroused, and, dropping the how, I made all haste to the spot from whence tlie sounds came. I came in sight of a small cottage, or what was supposed to be a cottage, but really a roughly built shed 1 ,1 beheld one of the most comical and gruesome sights my eyes have ever witnessed. There, straight. in front of me, was a negress. Around her neck was the remains of a shirt. I had it all, now. She had been washing before a large tub of water when the missile struck her, point first, in the hind quarters, and causing her, much against her will, to plunge head first into the tub. Spluttering and spirting, she lifted' her head out of the ofr (iciating bath. It was one of the most ugly faces I have ever seen. Poor body, of course she couldn’t help her looks, but I thought she might have put a towel round it. Her eyes, about the size of a halfcrown, were grey and brown —one being the former, and one the lat-* ter, Her eyebrows were covered either with hard lines or some of her bushy, .curly hair. She must have been an economising woman, for she didn’t use hairpins. Perhaps, though, she had never heard of them. Anyway, we’ll let thdt pass without further comment. Her ears were small, but well trained. Her nose was flat and large. How she breathed through it was a mystery to me. In any ease, the soapy water found space enough to run up, and her nose became like the trunk of an elephant, hut instead of water spouting out, it was bubbles. “I'm forever spouting bubbles — Down through my nose” (so on).

Let us pass ou. Round the bottom of her nose grew many hairs, indicating that it was a good growing place. It received a considerable quantity from her tongue, which was like a chained-up dog, coming out and barking every five minutes of the day, and gave birth to snores at night. Her mouth in the interior was blacker than this ink, and out of it gleamed her glittering white teeth, and the red tongue I have already mentioned. Her lips were course and thick, and often, between the live minutes intervals, were puckered up as if to receive a kiss —but the hero who would do that heroic deed is yet to be found. Her chin was always down on her dress, as if she were looking for that sovereign that is never to be found. •Then that was all I could .notice —not that it was half covered with soap and the towel, but that she decided to take action, and, running inside for a carving-knife (she must have had it in .readiness, for she was not long in returning), and, seeing the joke, I decided to make myself scarce. (Anyone with eommonsense will not fail to see the reason). Trudging onwards, I fell very tir-

ed. I was almost worn out with fatigue. I heard a rurmbling sound behind me, and, turning round my stiff neck, I beheld a gladsome sight. Coming slowly behind me was a small cart drawn by a wellbuilt donkey. Upon the seat, sitting erect, was a stout, religious man. A beam of delight crossed my face as I gazed on this gleeful sight. A still more glad sight it was when I perceived that he beckoned to me. “Where be’st thou bound for?” lit asked me, as I caiue up. I told him.

“To Wayside Street!” he repeated. “Whew! Thy legs must have’ tired on this journey. Come up and abide with me, lad.”

1 mumbled some thanks as 1 clambered in. Sitting beside him, 1 took a (dose survey of my benevolent newly-found acquaintance. He was, as I have said, short and

plump —in fact, he had very nearly lost his waist line, whether with swallowing the Bible, or some of the donkey’s carrots, I am not in a position to say. His brows were constantly knitted, as if studying some abstruse mathematical problem. Ilis eyes were bright and gleaming. Ilis cheeks were tinted red. Ilis ears were small, and from them downwards was a pathway of hairs forming into chop-whiskers. Ilis mouth was small (bow, it he did, >wallow the Bible, I don’t know!). His chin was carried high, as if his whiskers were things to be proud of. His neck was thick, in fact, he wore no collar, as if he could not get one for his large neck. Ilis nose, I have forgotten to state, was hawk-like, but pure white. His face, on the whole, was like the inside of the sun, beaming with delight. “Well now, lad, thou must be getting down, as I am going onward. Yonder is Wayside Street. Goodbye, God bless you!” I alighted, and returning the greeting, passed on.

Putting my hand in my pocket, I found a piece of looking-glass, and, putting it up, I had a look at myself. No, the sailor-like face was not there, neither was that of the i]egress with the carving-knife, noi the benevolent "old gentleman but that of John Mclvnight, schoolboy.