The Poet of Squatter's Creek.

Free Lance, Volume IV, Issue 176, 14 November 1903, Page 16

The Poet of Squatter's Creek.

SOMEHOW it leaked out, as it generally does, that the newman taken on at the station — Squatter's Creek Station — was a poet. Even his pen-name was disclosed. This caused a good deal of surprise and speculation among the two score hand®, and gave unusual dehght to Ben Strong as their bully was familiarly termed. Ben determined to make a big show with the "long-aired individual," some nineteen willing recruits following his lead. Back numbers of newspapers, in which they had occasionally seen the alleged pen-name, were found, the rhymes cut out, and posted profusely over the wall of the big room in the men's hut. The leader began a class for elocution, giving his pupils a selection, each, and taking what he called "a stunnin' tommyrot one" himself. Ben was pleased at the histrionic ability shown by some of his pupils. "They made the new bloke's nonsense a long chalk' worse than if really was." On Friday night the Reception Committee announced that everything was in readiness for the guest's airrival on Monday. The party then broke up, most of the men going to town for Saturday, while others went away to do outstation duty, and only a few remained at home. There were only three men in the house that evenang when the poet was brought in, the manager introducing him. The newcomer stated in has rejoinder that he was a little early — a thing he alw ays considered a good fault Nothing could have been better than this chance meeting, for of the three persons none were opposed to him, all had ignored the bully's preparations. It was a strange trio — the eldest, an old, grey man, was identified with strange stones of the early days , but time had changed the world since then, he now favouring the spiritual benefits of civilisation above all others. Next came a middle-aged person, the champion of education on the 1 run. Pie had matriculated away far back in — I forget the date now — and possessed some political ambitions. The last and least of the group was a youth who had not vet attained lus majority. He owned strong leanings to art, caricature being has forte. In a short time the little company ■were fast fnends. The youngest, who was r.ot a great* deal behind the poet in years turned tell-tale, 'nving a brief but vital sketch of Ben Strong and his active accomplices. The educated one, with the old gent , waited developments while t.me "new man" took things very coolly, asking only a few simple questions "Can Ben Strong use Ins hands?" he asked leisurely. "Well, I don't think so," answered the boy. 'Ever see him fight?" "No. But he's big as a young ox and gives what he calls friendly hugs. I've had a few '" "Has he ever taken on the Sandow business — gone in for exercise, you know ?" "No," interrupted the old gent, without considering the boy. "He runs it down, says it's bosh ; says yer born strong that he'd gnve Sander a go hissedf. But, no doubt, he's a strong 'un" The poet's carelessness took all interest out of the matter, so the conversa^tion was turned to books, and our hero, on being asked w T hat w ere his favounes, answered rather enigmatically, "Lorn a Doone" and "Lavengro" at present "Is that 11 o'clock P" yawned the boy, and the party said good-night. *■ # On Monday morning, the bully betrayed surprise at the short hair of the new arrival, beyond which nothing was done, everybody "holding back" until evening. After tea, when all were assembled m the large room, Ben gave notice that the time for the concert had come. His lieutenant took the chair, stating that he was proud to assume such a dignified position. He alluded to the sterling qualities of the poet, receiving an ovation. Recitation followed recitation, with little effect on the victim. Soon Ben Strong's 'grand "hit" was brought forward amid rowdy applause, the chairman stating that, m accordance with the rules and traditions of Squatter's Creek Station the new clmin, whoever or whatever he may be, is called upon to defend his honour bv a three-round combat with any man in the hall — new chum to choose said pei - son , adding that the challenged must appear before a select committee that will consider his eligibility. The poet was on his feet in an instant, announcing that he heartily agreed with the chairman of this meeting and the knightly traditions of Squatter's Creek. With regard to the antagonist, he asked permission to mention Mr. Beniamin Strongly, otherwise "Ben Strong," the kindly convener of this great reception.

He's playing' into our hands," said Ben, as the committee brought in thenfavourable verdict. The two heroes centied an appreciative nag of onlookers, Ben w inking to the audience in great glee, while the poet stood with his head bent low, as if ashamed of the whole proceeding , but all the time he was weighing the situation, concluding that this choice flower of brutalasm must be plucked early for the sa/ke of all concerned. The decision strengthened ham, and all at once our Lavengro, his blood running high, forgetting all about the audience, yelled "Come on now r , Flaming Tinman. This John Ridd '11 kill his Carver Doone oif early, I guess l " The boy, standing not far away, soliloquised ; "He's living away back in tbJe bocks he's read. John Ridd and Lavengro. O, heaivens! It seems like a poor show for Ben." Bern, came with all his might and main, the poet shielding himself from the heavy fists till the assailant was a little tired , then quiet as thought he dealt him three "lightning blows," sxich as he had often read about in Borrow 's pages, a trick equal to Blackmore's wrestling conceit. He used to practice a good deal with his brothers. From thae hour ''Ben Strong" was no longer "Ben Strong," but the "Flaming Tinman," alnd when the poet came to the real world out of the world of romance, he heard a loud cheering in has honour. "Where is Mr. Strongly ? " he asked , "wie must shake hands." "The Flaming Tinman?" queried someone. "Durruo'" Went without leaving his new address before yon had time to clench hand for the fourth blow. Guess he's token some good lessons with him." Ifc would be superfluous to follow the poet's subsequent career, how he married the owner's pretty daughter, and bought a station close at hand. You will read all about that, in your favourite novels — J. T. B, in ' Otago Witness "