ALL WRONG:

Wairoa Bell, Volume V, Issue 198, 19 May 1893, Page 7

ALL WRONG:

A VERIO COMIC SKETCH. My name is Brown—Phiiip Brown, My father’s name is Joel, my mother rejoices in the old fashioned cognomen of Hannah. Last summer a friend of mine, enthusiastic and just out of college, went to Laneville to rusticate, and to visit a' bachelor uncle, He came home in raptures with Laneville, but more particularly with one Bess’e Biake, a resident of that fortunate town My mother, being of an enquiring disposition, questioned young Gurley ir> regard to this particular Bessie, and learned that she was the daughter of Moses Blake, and Moses Blake’s wife was a third cousin to my mother’s uncle’s wife’s brother-in-law. So we were quite closely related. My mother had once known Mrs Blake, and Moses was a man of wealth. Bessie was his daughter. Here was an opening ! My mother ought to have been a President, or a Prime Minister, she was such a sharp one at planning, and before many days she bad decided that X was out of health, and needed country air. She wrote an affectionate letter to Mrs Blake, stating the afflicting circumstances, dwelling on her anxiety for her only son, and asking that early friend if she would not receive the invalid into her family for a lew weeks. In due time a letter arrived, saying that I should be welcome to the domicile of the Blakes. ‘ Deary me!’ said my mother, adjusting her spectacles so as to get a more accurate view, 4 it seems to me that Betsy Ann Blake has neglec ed her spelling lately. Wby, scarcely a single word is correctly spelled, and yet Betsy Ann used to be a good scholar !’ It was decided on the spot that I should go to Laneville and recuperate. My wardrobe was soon put in order, and I went forth for the home or Bessie Blake, ‘Be very careful, Philip,’ said my mother, at parting, ‘and keep 01 the right side of old Mr Blake. He’s an odd stick, if I remember, and can’t bear to be crossed. And recollect, my son, that he is worth fifty thousand, and Bessie is all he’s got.’ Perhaps you were never in Laneville ? If not, then, of course, you do not know that all the houses are as much alike as the peas in a bnshel-bng full of peas, and the man who could tell one house from another would bo a genius.

The village is surrounded by brickyards, and the Lanevilleites believe in encouraging home industry, so that all the houses arc brick. There is a patent-rooting factory in the place ; and so, for the same reason cited above, all the houses are patent roofed. Green paper window shades are manufactured here, and, of course, all the shades are green paper. It was nearly dark when I arrived at Laneville, and it rained. It always does when anybody goes anywhere. I inquired for Mr Blake’s, and a small boy agreed to pilot me thither for ten cents. How the little wretch managed to single out this house from all the other houses just like it I do not know ; but seeing the nams Blake on the door- plate, I gave him his hard-earned pittance and rang the bell.

They were delighted to see me, had been expecting me a month, old Blake said, and remembering that he couldn’t bear to lie crossed, I refrained from contradicting him, though I knew very well that my mother had written them only a fortnight before. I was shown into the parlour and the presence of Bessie. « This is my daughter,’ said old Blake, indifferently enough, as if such angels as Bossie Blake were too common with him to merit much notice. And 1 felt that if my pantaloons were not new, and I was sure the carpet had been swept that day, it would be happiness to kneel at her feet, ar) d—and —well, I don’t exactly know what. Mrs Blake was a fat old lady, and she was knitting a gray stocking. Sweet domestic employment ! I shook hands all round, and eat down on the sofa beside Bessie- The first chance 1 got I squeezed her hand, and received an enchanting smile by way ol encouragement. Mr Blake got out his spectacles, wiped them, and put them straddle of his nose.

Then he straightened back in his chair and took a good look at me. 4 Hum ! ’ said lie. 4 Tolerable tall and well built ! Six feet, ain’t ye ? ’ I assented, knowing that be did not like to be crossed, but I am only five feet six. 4 I used to he six feet two myself,’ said he ; 4 that's when I was young. A hefty man, too. Takes after his father—eh, Martha ? ’ nodding to his wife. 4 All that tribe was tall. Got a nose like his grandfather’s—no, let me see ; it’s more like his grandmother’s. There’s a great deal in noses—oh, Martha ? ’ 4 Yes,’ said Martha,’ absently counting her stitches, 4 especially when a body has a cold.’ 4 1 noticed that the old gentleman made a mistake in calling his wife Martha, when her name was Betsy A nn, but I didn’t cross him. I kept still and made myself more devoted to Bessie. • Yes, yes,’ pursued ho ; nose wide at the roots and sot up—good sign. Hain’c you bad the small-pox lately young man ’ 4 No,’ said 1, indignantly. 4 Ch, you liain’t ? I seed the side of yer face and yer upper lip was all broke out and dingy.’ Broke out, indeed ! and my moustache as respectable a size as any one could expect from three month’s nursing. And only yesterday Aramiuta Jones said it was divine, and just as 4 scratch ’ as need be, I was angry, hut a glance at the sweet face of Bessie made me restrain my temper. What could I not bear for her sake ? 4 1 used to know pretty near all your folks,’ said old Blake, 4 and there’s a heap of ’em I should like to ask about if I could only git m3 7 wils to work, There was yer uncle Joshua—you don’t remember him I guess ; lie died afore your time —’ ‘I never had an uncle .Joshua,’ said T, 4 Don’t contradict me my bn} 7 ,’ said he, testily; I guess I know. ’Tain’t likely they ever tohl you anything about him. He was put in the State prison for stealing a sheep—or was it a pig p ’ 4 How, father,’ said the old lady, 4 don’t you go for to barrering up the boy’s feelings. He can’t help what his uncle did.’ 4 I hain’t a barreling,’ said old Blake, crossly. 4 You mind your own bizness, M arth a,’ And while the old people wore disputing as to t&e real meaning of the word 4 barreling ’ I improved the chance which offered, and kissed Bessie. Before this fact was accomplished, a tall, red—whiskered man strode into the room, and for an instant stood glaring at me like a wild beast. Then he dashed towaidsme, seized me bv the collar, and planted his foot at that part of my bod) 7 most convcn ient to kick, and landed me at the otherside of the room. 4 Take tlnit ; you scoundrel ! ’ he remarked, impressively ; but I could not oblige him, I had already 7 taken it. I rose to my feet and prepared to strike

out. 4 What do you mean, sir ? ’ demanded I, before striking. 4 What do yon mean, sir ? ’ demanded lie. What do you mean by kissing my wife : ’ 4 Your wife ! Jupiter Jorum ! ’ cried I, 4 Bessie Blake your wife ! ’ ‘ Bessie Blake ? ’ said he. 4 Who in thunder is Bessie Blake ? ’ 4 Don’t be profane, my son,’ said chi Mrs Blake. 4 Scripture is agin it.’ 4 Are ) 7 ou not Bessie Blake ? ’ said I, turning to the Venus 4 No,’ said she, ‘ my 7 name is Annie Hall.’ 4 Well,’ said I. 4 this is a pretty kettle of fish. Who are you sir ? ’ to the red whiskered man, 4 I am Robert Hall, at your service—-Mr Blake’s step-son.’ 4 Isn’t this Mr Moses Blake’s house V 5 No ; my name is Jeremiah,’ said old Blake, 4 And I was going to Moses Blake’s,’ said I. 4 Then why the deuce didn’t you go there ?’ cried Mr Hall. 4 Don’t swear, Robert,’expostulated Mrs Blake. ■ How was I to toll one house from another in this abominable village ?’ cried I, indignantly, 4 where every house is just like every other one.’ 4 My house cost twice as much as Moses Blake’s,’ said Mr Blake. ‘ Ain’t your name Jeremiah ?’ asked Mrs Blake. 4 Mercy forbid 1’ said I. 6 Then,’ said she 4 I guess things is

kinder mixed up. Wo was a expecting our nephew Jeremiah Muggins for to pay us a visit, He writ some time ago to say he’d come We’hain’t seen him sinse he was a child, and naterly we took you for him. And the fact of it is, you’ve got into the wrong house.’ I saw how it was, apologised, obtained definite directions as to the locality of Mr Moses Blake’s house, and departed. The less I say of my visit there the better. Bessie weighed a couple of hundred, to say the least, and was as red and healthy as a washerwoman. A fine girl, no doubt, bat not to my taste. I 4 recuperated ’ speedily, went home, and married Aramiuta Jones.