THE O'FARRELLY FEUD

Wairarapa Times-Age, 3 June 1940, Page 10

THE O'FARRELLY FEUD

COPYRIGHT. PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

By

GEORGE A. BIRMINGHAM.

Author of “General John Regan,” “Up the Rebels,” etc., etc.

CHAPTER VIII. (Continued). “It was what that old Quinn said and

what you said yourself that put it into my head. If it’s indecent for me and Danny to be here when the young ladies are bathing—and mind you, I don’t deny that it might be looked at in that way —it'll be a damned sight indecenter for the young ladies to come here when Danny's bathing.” “I wonder you don’t bathe yourself,” said Ronnie.

“Is it me? Do you think I'm the kind of man to spend my time sitting on a rock with notning on me? Or walking about in the sea, the same as a lobster would. I’ve more sense. And anyway IT! be wanting my tea before nine o'clock.

“I'll be wanting mine." said Danny. The boy was blubbering now. but his tears produced no effect on his father.

"It'll do you good," he said, "to go without your tea one day in the week. It's too fond of eating and drinking you are. When I was a young lad I wouldn't be caring if I never got my tea.”

“There's just one thing you've forgotten,” said Ronnie. "Where will you beautiful plan be if I lend Danny a rug out of my car. or an old waterproof or something to cover himself up with. I've a rug in my car which would cover him from head to foot if necessary and I’d put a waterproof on top of' that. There’d be nothing to shock the young ladies then.” "You might," said O'Farrelly. But you won't. You're a gentleman. I’ve always said that about you, Mr Macinray. Whatever else might be said about you—and you know there's plen-ty-—there’s no one would deny you’re a gentleman. ‘He may be a bit wild and foolish,’ that’s what I’ve said many a time, ‘but Ronnie Mac’s a gentleman.’ ”

“I dont see why my being a gentleman has anything to do with it.” “No gentleman,” said Peter O’Farrelly, “would interfere with a poor man like myself earning a few shilling honestly, by fishing or any other way.”

“Poor man,” said Ronnie. “You’re the richest man in Connaught. You’re coining money out of that public house of yours besides all that drops into your pocket through being chairman of the district council.”

"What comes that way," said Peter “goes again mighty quick in the free drinks that every man in the place expects of me. Only for the few shillings I make out of the mullet I’d be hard put to it to keep going at all. And if those two young ladies has leave to go on as they’re going and nobody interferes with them, it’ll be an end of my fishing. That why I say you’ll not be giving clothes to Danny. It would be a mean acf. so it would, and that’s what you'd never be guilty of —you that's a gentleman as I’m after saying, and what’s more a sportsman.” It was perhaps this appeal to his sporting instincts which affected Ronnie. After all O'Farrelly was making an ingenious and original effort to get the better of Daphne. It was no more than fair that he should have his chance. And O’Farrelly had one more argument to bring forward, one which he hoped would bo decisive. “What’s more,” he said, “nobody knows better than yourself, that whatever you might lend to Danny, whether it might be a rug or a coat, would be gone from you for good. You’d never get it back again. That boy’s a thief and all the beatings ever I’ve given him did no good in the way of curing him.”

“You might,” said Ronnie, "have mentioned that it’s a long time since that boy washed, and it wouldn't be the best thing in the world for a rug to wrap it round him.”

"I would not,” said O’Farrelly. “I agree with you there.”

He would, indeed have agreed to any insult piled on Danny or any other member of his family which would have prevented Ronnie from lending the boy any kind of covering. Once reassured on this point he boarded his boat and rowed back to Ballycon, leaving the whimpering Danny to his naked vigil on the shore of the creek.

It was about six o'clock when Ronnie, wearing his bathing dress, came out of Carrickduv, bringing Daphne and Mousie with him. They had enjoyed a substantial tea and Daphne was in good heart for the work before them. Mousie was not so cheerful. She begged rather pathetically not to be obliged to go into the water. “Mother always told me,” she said, “that I ought not to bathe if I was feeling at all upset, and you know Daphne, I was very sick indeed this morning and I don't feel really well even yet.”

“Nonsense," said Daphne. "You can go in perfectly well if you like. It 'won’t do you the least bit of harm. The water’s quite warm. Isn't it, Ronnie?”

But Ronnie, who saw that the girl still looked pale and was evidently frightened, pleaded for her.

"I expect we can manage all right without her." he said. "You and I ought to be able to do all that's wanted. And she looks miserable. It wouldn't do at all if she fainted or anything like that.”

“I wouldn't so much mind your fainting," said Daphne to.Mousie. "bul it would be most disgusting if you were sick again in the sea. Do you think there’s any chance of it?"

I might be. sadi Mousie, grasping at a faint hope of escape. “Very well.” said Daphne. “You can stay on shore uncss we absolutely can't do without you."

Then she caught sight of Danny. The boy had heard their voices, carried to him across the water and had seen them. He was not obeying his father’s orders. Instead of standing on a rock and waving ms arms, he was sitting

huddled up behind a stone. “What’s that?” said Daphne,

“That," said Ronnie, “Is Peter O‘Farrelly's boy. Dan. His father left him there in the hopes that when you saw him you would go away again and not interfere with the net.” “What a fool that man must be," said Daphne. “Why on earth should I run away just because he leaves his boy sitting there on a rock? However, as he is there we had better take care that he doesn’t interfere with us. Mousie, as you.don't want to go into the sea you had better go round to the far shore of the creek, where that boy is. If he makes the slightest attempt to cross, collar him at once and stop him.” "But Daphne, how can I?”

Daphne had no sense of modesty and misunderstood the meaning of Mousie's protest. "Of course you can." she said. "He's quite a small boy. not half as big as you are and you went in for gymnastics last term." "It's not that,” said Muosie, "I'm not afraid of him; but I wouldn't like to do : t . . .” “Why on earth not?" "He's got no clothes on," said Mousie. “All the better. If you throw stones at him it will hurt him far more than if he had clothes on. Not that you’re likely to hit him, but you might if you went up quite close and then bowled large stones at him underhand. You can’t shy worth twopence and never could. But you ought to be able to get at him by bowling. That's the thing for you to do. Don’t wait till he attempts to cross the creek. Chase him away altogether.” Mousie, overborne as usual by Daphne’s superior will ‘power, went very slowly round the end of * the creek. The boy Danny, overcome Dy a mixture of modesty and fear, cowered behind his rock. As Mousie approached fear got the better of modesty. He rose to his feet and made a rush along the shore to escape. Human courage is supposed to ebb during the early hours of the morning, when men are usually in bed and deprived of their ordinary garments. It disappears altogether if we are called on to face danger without any clothes on at all. The boy Danny can scarcely be blamed for his flight. Mousie, inspired by a sense of duty, rolled one large store after him. She made no attempt whatever at pursuit. "Now, then.” said Daphne to Ronnie. “Come along. The moment of the carrying out of her plan had arrived. With the help of Ronnie she carefully untied the rope with which the net was secured to its post, at her side of the creek. Danny, the fear of his father conquering his fear of Mousie, stopped in his flight and looked round. Mousie rolled another stone in nis direction. He took no notice of this, being deeply interested in what was happening to the net. Rennie followed her, also grasping the rope. They waded seaward dragging the rope and the nearer part of the net after them.

Their plan revealed itself to Danny. By dragging the net seaward from its moorings they would leave a gap at the end of the creek, through which the mullet could escape when the falling tide warned them to get out .to sea. Stirred partly by the thought of his father's anger and partly indignation of his own. Danny made a slow approach to the creek. Mousie had more or less conquered her feeling of modesty and had never been much afraid of Danny. She bowled large stone towards him. It went nowhere near him, but it warned him of what might happen if he went nearer. He stopped and shouted “Hi!”

Mousie bowled another stone. Neither Daphne nor Ronnie noticed the shout at all.

They had come to a more difficult part of their work. Though they waded out, stumbling and occasionally falling, till they were up to their necks, they still felt that they had not creaked a large enough gap. The mullet is not a very intelligent fish and might easily miss the way of escape offered to it unless it was very wide.

Ronnie and Daphne took to swimming, still clinging to the rope and towing the net. They swam on their breasts with the rope over their shoulders. They swam on their backs holding the rope in their hands. They tried side stroke. They made very little progress. It is exceedingly difficult for a swimmer to tow anything, almost impossible to move a large and heavily weighted net. Danny, moved almost to despair at the progress they had made, went a few steps forward and shouted again. This time he said more than “Hi.” Mousie, who disliked blasphemy, gathered courage. She approached the boy and bowled another stone, this time with such vigour that it almost reached him. Danny fled again. "Hold on,” said Ronnie. “Take it easy for a minute.”

Daphne, rather breathless and spluttering. took another tug at the net and then stopped. "I expect the gap is big enough now," said Ronnie. "No it's not. We must widen it out more.” "We're doing no good this way," said Ronnie. “Let's get Mousie to help. If she is sick it can't be helped." "She'd be no use if we had her," said Ronnie. He looked round as he spoke. Mousie, with gathering courage, had gone still nearer to Danny, and this time rolled a stone which almost hit him. "Besides." observed Ronnie, “she's doing more good where she is. She really does seem to be stoning that boy, which is unccYnmonly good for him.” (To be Continued).