The Storyteller.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVII, Issue 114, 7 October 1914, Page 6

The Storyteller.

THE BIRTHDAV i'EASr.

(By J. 11. Macnair, in the Lady's Realm.';,

A man once said to me that Scotland was a fine place for a stamp collector, because every family had a member iil-road, and they all wrote home every week, lint even for Scotland the Melvillos were exceptional: for out of a tainily of live only one remained at home in Shilburgh and, of the rest, no two Mere in the same continent. John, the eldest son. who was now married and lind a baby daughter, was on an Australian sheep ranch, rising slowly but surely. Andrew in an office in the .States, was the rich man of the family. Willie, a mining engineer in South Africa, had more downs than ups .since he sailed two jeurs ago, but was beginning f.:i do better now. And only last year nineteen-year-old Joyce, the baby of the family, had married a doctor and sailed t'.iy China, where lie had a three-year jm-t. the farthest away of them all. And they all wrote home every week to their widowed mother and Lizzie, for the I ,-elni spirit was strong within them.

Lizzie was flic eldest daughter, the One on whom the burden chiefly falls when a family is large and ambitious, and . iiort of money. She fAriio back from '- hool to help her mother, to darn the weekly stockings, to cater for the lu-a'thy appetites to frown over the weekly bills; and later to write the weekly letters that linked them so closely over the divided seas. 'She was one of those quiet, unselfish women, threeniiarters angel, who turn a shrinking face to the world\and blossom beautifully in their homes. No lover could lure her from Jut mother's rt ide; and the two women lived in the lives of the beloved exiles, rejoicing over their successes, trembling over news of danger, of illness, or bad luck, and counting as their great happiness Hie return of one of them for a visit, a tning which happened every lit. 1 er year.

Hut this was one of the other years anil never had it scetird mi lovig and dreary. Tile absence of merry, restless Joyce, with her crowds of boy and girl friends left a great blank. The big, rambling house, was empty and desolate, and unnaturally silent. Mother and daughter tried to cheer each other In making plans for next year, when Jehu was to bring homo his wife and baby for the first time: yet next year seemed immeasurably lar oil. Added to this, Mrs. Melville caught cold early in the winter and was lung in throwing it Oil, and it was one of those wet. dark winters that chill the spirits and seem never to end. It was still wretched iinsqringlikc weather when March 7 drew near, which was the date of the Birthdav Feast. The birthday feast was a function instituted by their proud father when Lizzie was the only and most wonderful baby in the world. ISy an odd coincV dence she and her mother were born on the same date. March 7, and from nursery times onwards it had been 'honorably celebrated. There was a family supper, a solemn presentation of gifts; spec clics, serious and comic; and a score of family jokes that mean so much to brothers and sisters and absolutely nothing to anyone else. And the custom had never been allowed to die. The circle grew smaller, but letters and parcels marked remembrance. And as long as Joyce was (here, it was still a merry ocasion. Joyce, who could mimic anyone, would drink each of the brothers' healths with solemnly absurd speeches and invent preposterous replies. And Joyce was always entrusted to supply presents for those out of reach of shops and to suppress premature birthday let ters until the right day arrived. The two Queens of the day would sigh a little, looking at the empty places; but all the same there was gladness in the observance. But this year everything was different and neither would confess to the other how she dreaded the anniversary, yet both felt sure that it would be a day of disappointment. '•Do you think we need to have a supper?'' Mrs Melville went so far as t.. sav. "Vim nml 1 wont care much for it and I feel as if the food would stick in my throat, when I think of them all so far away." "They would be disappointed not to hear nf it." said Lizzie. And that was the end of it, for they would have eaten poison rather thaifdisappoinl the boys and Joyce. Lizzi'j suggested inviting a few old friends, but Mrs Melville said a little wistfully that it had always been just theniselvs and the proposal dropped. "I think I will send Emma to see her mother for the day and cook the supper myself," Lizzie said. "J have so little t> do now-ii-days. I'll quite enjoy the > ham'c. And Til tell y.,u, mother, what we'll hi. When this week's mail comes. wiTl not open the letters but keep them lor a birthday treat!" for the 7th was on Tuesday, -when j no mails from abroad are due. Milt their iirctcirc of iight-i,carted--lass failed from the very tir-t. The day opened miserably, wet and .dull.. No parcels had arrived from abroad and the letters were unusually short, and, what, was more inexplicable, not one of them mentioned the great event. "Tl'"c can't all have forgotten!" said Mrs Melville with unsatisfied eyes. "It will be the next mail, mother darlin-';" Lizzie explained valiantly, t!:otiL r :i she was grievously disappointed I hcrse'''. "They didn't want to be too early." "Tiiov were never late before, Lizzie," said her mother. The hours dragged heavily along. Tt rained unceasingly. The postman never ] came near the house all day and though > they did not expect any letters, yet a | postman's knock is always cheerful, i .Mrs, Melville sewed hard at a frock; for ,

baby Elizabeth in, Aus 1 ~ . , , *ralia, scarcely putting her work r> ... / } ° „.. -o«'n until the light began to tail. ,-. . ... ° Lizzie sent the servant out and aft to WQrk tQ i)|-tiparL av _ our 'J supper with a heavy heart. i "Lizzie," called her mother, "I'll set the table for vou."

"Shall we have it in the' parlour, seeing there are only two of usi" came a voice from the kitchen. "I think we will have it in tnc diningroom as we always do. There is a good lire there." Lizzie sighed. Her mother «a. ~i the mood to spare no pang of association and she feared the effect on her new -s. After a little she slipped info the dining room to see how things were getting on. But as sin; entered the door a cry entered from her lips, "Oh mother, you have set for them all!"

Mrs Melville, wakened from her day dream, stood aghast. It was perfect I v true. Shy had been thinking of past birthdays as she went about her work, of time when the broken circle, had been complete and unconsciously mr hands had followed her thoughts. The big table covered with the best fine old damask cloth crowned with (lowers and fruit Lizzie had provided to. give, if possible, a festive »i: TO »<* f«V sever, people, Mrs Melville's mind .hail seen het dead husband once more at the foot, her three fine boys and dear baby of the family home again. She grew quite white as she came suddenly back to reality again. "Oh, Lizzie, what have I lieon doing?"

lint Lizzie's quick hands were outstretched to clear away the extra silver and glass, her mother caught her arm.

"Don't touch them! Don't take them away! I couldn't bear it I fee! as if it would be an evil omen. Dear girl, Im sorry 1 frightened you, but let them stay as they are!" "But mother," .Lizzie was lialf laughing, half crying, "if you want to pretend they are all there. \o;i musn't forget George—(that was Joyce's husband) or John's wife, or the baby." "I'll set for them too."

She went to search in the sideboard, and Lizzie turned silently away, the sense of depression and weariness growing stronger. When she carried in the supper u little later, the tabic was complete. Four places at each side, one at the top. and one at the bottom; and beside her mother's place at the head Lizzie's own baby fork and spoon from the case that had not been opened for years, and the high baby chair brought down from tile attic. The candles were lit in the old .Sheffield plate candlesticks, and shone out on the cut glass, and i.'ie silver only used for state occasions. The napkins were fluted into fantastic shapes, and a flower floated in every finger-bowl. Nothing was forgotten.

"Oh mother," Lizzie said, troubled, "1 doubt if you're wise' to do this. It's eerie, just us two and the empty places."

''Nonsense, lassie," lier motlier tried to speak cheerfully. "They're all with us in spirit. Where's the harm of playing that their bodies are here too? The thought of them will give me an appetite you'll see.'' But it was a vain effort. Tier actions belied her words. The clear soup was excellent, but neither of them could swallow more than a few teaspoonfuls. The chicken smelt doliciously, the bacon curled crisply at its side, the potatoes were creamed to perfection. But they could not cat. Lizzie choked on the first mouthful and pulped it. down salt with tears. Mrs Melville suddenly, strained beyond endurance, pushed her plate aside and bowing her head on her arms broke into bitter weeping.

"I can't help it, l.iz/.ie. U all comes over me. I'm getting old, and they're all so far awav."

Lizzie was beside her comforting, ear essing, crying with her.

"Oh, dear little mother, we're a pair of silly women to go on like this when they're all in good health and doing well and writing us such loving letters. It won't be so long until we see everyone again.' It's just the rain and your cold. We'll be laughing at oarselves when the next mail comes."

There was no resisting her voice and her coaxing. Mrs Melville wiped her eyes and sat up in her char. "I'm a-hamed of myself, lassie," and then more practically, "And all your nice cooking washed, poor child! O'l Lizzie, I'll never be lonely as long as J have you. Mercy! What's that?'' That was a knock at the dining-room door, ami without wailing for an answer, their old friend, Dr. Russell,, walked in, a huge box under his arm. "You're a nice on". Miss Lizzie." he •■ailed in his genial voice. "I've been knocking for boors and ringing for ages until I got tired of the rain, and just tinned the handle and walked in. What if 1 had been a burglar, eh?" "Oh, Dr. Knssell, Tin so sorry!" The two women bad both risen hi I guilty confusion. I'.ut the doctor's keen I eye had read the riddle of the festival liable ami their tear-stained faces. "Been having a ghost party'; Well 1 have brought the ghosts." "Dr. Russell, what do you mean?" i'j- turned a reassuring glance on hi.- old friend as be fumbled with the box he bad placed on a chair in a dark corner. "Many happy returns, mother dear, and Lizzie." j "It's Andrew's voke and no other!" Bui the doctor held up his linger and Andrew's voice with a little American

tvnm,' !!,:;( roil],! ,„,t disjlllisi' llis Ik.ii-<-i Scutli-h ti.ri.---; uislierf Ui.iiL nil [..,-,- sil'li' ,i,„| told ili..m ho would In; lliinkiii.u' of tii.rit as tli.-v iiiUned. An,] hj" liuil scaively lini>!„,l before the doctor was hn*y auain and Willie's elu-efy voice broke into the Honson-dnal uong that iiini h-i.mchow become |iart, of tile ljirT.il i!;iv ritual yonii! undo, had taught i(-

them for the occasicn when tiny were quite small. "And the green grins :;rnv al! round, my boys, And the green gras-- mew ail round. Tlie tree was built op a hill, and the hill stood still. And the green grass »rew a : l round." Dr. Russell shook his head, and made a face, for Willie's musical powers were more vigorous than mi". But to t.'ie other listeners not Mci ■■■i lici'mii could make sweeter melod; ■:■:! tl: a it was •lovce pouring out r lovable impetuous \vn I ilo'vn suddenly with, '0 ,iy lummy darling!" and her ■ gr e, kind .words finished lie ..; . A; d then i John's strong man. ■ ■.. s fiiied the

Mrs Melville was ■'••"ig baci. in her chair, the tears cm . ; dc .n her cheeks, but they ww rs 01 mre unadulterated joy the ■■■:■. face had the rapture of a vm in a picture. With every word the mrden and lonliness melted.

"I've, heard thorn .ili..' ; sighed their mother in dec]) eonti": i. "You've forgotten .iolm'n wife and the baby," twinkled li.-,- old friend. A strange voice and • -wce.t one. broke '.'io silence as tin: '■.•"i-jlikr-iii-lsiw sue had nevef seen begged 10 be included in "the birthday list of honors." and strangest and sweetest i>f a'!, a. baby voice called out "Granny" and ended in a gurgle Of laughter. Somehow baby Isli/n.l>.'l.h' f achievement brought thing i v> i lighter con- - elusion. Mrs Melville dried iier eyes r and listened entrance I while Dr Russeil . told how Andrew in i'<-- Urn* oj wonderful inventions ha 1 conceived this magnificent idea months <!'o, of sending greetings to his iiioilut and sister in their own voices by phonographic record; now dclightel'. Hi- others had fallen in with it: an ' '■■.■■ vb. . Dr. Russell, had been charged wii'n producing ; t at the birthday ferH. When Mrs Melvillo understood that -he could hear their voices again a? oi'l.'-ti as she liked her joy was deep an' It was certain she and Lizzie won!' l listen to every message again licfr-ve they slept that night. Then empty pines ceased to look ghostly. It was as if real presences filled, them, for as the old song says: 'uearts of truest mettle Absence does join and time docs fettle." "Lizzie," her mother said at last in a brisker tone than she had used for some days, "Dr Russell must have something to eat. And I believe J'm hungry myself." "I'll heat things up in no time," Lizzie cried joyfully. "Not a bit of you," said Dr Russell, "Cold chicken's better than hot any day. And we'll drink to the health of the exiles." "Come away lassie,' her mother said, smiling as she still hesitated. "If Dr. Russell doesn't mind, we won't either. And the food doesn't exist hot or cold, that could give me indigestion to-night. Fill your glass, Dr. Russell. You'll drink our health and we'll drink yours; and then we'll all drink a health together to the best boys and girl in the whole wido world!"