THE RAIDERS.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 5, Issue 138, 28 January 1916, Page 2 (Supplement)

THE RAIDERS.

Winlow s cottage is practically a humorous portrait of the man himself squat, red. phlegmatic, side-whis-kered. Lor YVinlow clings to the fashion of his youth in the matter of whiskers, and the cottage bears ivy on its walls, trjmmcd in ludicrous resemblance. Window ro.se laboriously from his chair and went out to make sure the poultry was safe from foxes. That last journey at night is ;l habit of many years' standing, the need of which is emphasized now there is no hunting, and foxes— Gorman foxes, the old man declares are free to laugh with fat chops. Indeed, the increased raiding of his hen-roosts was the first thing to bring home to Winlow the seriousness of the war. He thought it out in his doorway, and at length remarked, "Drat they Germans. Without the war there'd bo hunting as any decent enmity ought to have, and the foxes would ho kep' under. Ido believe half n' them came from Germany, too. Drat the whole tribe, I say, foxes and all." He went out grumbling, and the yi How light of his lantern caused a frightened stir among the birds. Winlow examined their enclosure and found it safe. Ho spoke a friendly word to his dog. grumbled instructions for the night watch, then turned back to the cottage. When he reached the door he hoard a distant, rumbling sound, as of guns, then a nearer crash. Silence succeeded; then came the throb of an engine, high up. Winlow know the sound well enough, and listened more attentively. It was growing louder every second. "Why don't ee come in'" cried his wjto. "What a man wants pugging about en a night 'like this I clon'r know. Come in and shut the door. The house is getting cold as ice.'' "Right you are, my dear," ho replied, for A!r.s. iWnlow is a person to be conciliated. And he came in. locked the door, and led the way up the ladder-like stair to the bedroom. The noise in the air was still louder now. and .Mrs. iWnlow heard it for the first time.

"That's a Zep.," ;-ho said, placidly. Winlow nodded. "So that's what you were wasting time over." she wont on, "and making the place so cold as ice,

too." "T did fear to hear the beastly thing rattling about," confessed Winlow. " Reckon it's just about overhead now." "Yes," said his wjfe. but the fools "coludn't bit a 40-acre meadow if they was in the middle of it. Well. I'm for s'eon."

"The worst is.'' said Winlow in hjs slow, humorously grumbling fashion,

"tiio worst is t)iey dratted foxos. When a Zcp. comes over they ioxe.s get tlieir noses tickled. Tt's along n' them being furr'nor«:-!jko, themselves. I'm main sure the most nn 'em 's not English. Xo. Tlioy rouses up and comes for niv chickens, so thev tin. Drat 'cm, I NI.Y." "Oli. you can talk, Winlow, you ran. How can a body go to sleep if you talk like that:- Be quiet, do." There was no reply, and hpfore the Zepeplin was out of earshot both wire as'eop. j. n.