Tales and Sketches

Wairarapa Daily Times, Volume 4, Issue 1079, 20 May 1882, Page 2 (Supplement)

Tales and Sketches

THE~STORY OP COAT!

AN ANGLO-AUSTRALIAN STORY... IN TEN EPISODES. Vir. A certain loathsome lodging-house,- situina back slum, whither we must how was nothing else but a nest of thiOves ill-clad, hungry thieves; out- • casts from the more sturdy and bolder ranks • 'of crime; despised by the clever burglar who ' took his 'fifty or hundred pounds worth of " swag" at a haul; ignored and disownod " by the dashing swell-riiobsman or the accomplished pickpocket, Theso poor creatures were only stall-lifters and area-sneaks-men, ■ women, and children'who wero witling torisk the terrible punishments of tho law for sixpence. : A number of them were assembled in an under-ground back kitchen,' discussing tho good and bad luck of the day. They se- ' psrated themselves into little groups of twos ■ and threes, and established'temporaiy part- ■ ■ nerehips on the basis of uniting thoir pilfer- ■ ings and " going whacki" in the profit. . Presently tho door opened, and a man with a detestably cunning expression' of face, and having a stumpy horse-whip in his hand, entered the room, " Woll, niy lads and lasses, liow are you all getting along?" he said, "Iwas just driving round this way,-so I thought I'dgivo . you a.look in.. Got anything in my lino today ?" He walked round, and rapidly in-- • speeted the various little piles of articles presided over by the respective " firms," " You're a-picking," grumbled one loan • and tattered chevalier d 1 Industrie; "and it " ain't fair." " I alius pick, and pays oxtry for it-yer know I do," replied the dealer. "I on'ywants boots and clothes—nothing else ain't no good to me; not at a gift." Having selected sundry,odds and ends; and having paid for them, after considerable haggling, out of a big bag of silver and copper, he stuffed his purchases pell-mell into.a canvas sack and carried them off. At the top of tho,street he mounted aclumsy cart, drawn by a melancholy pony in a decline, A drive of about an hour aud a half took him' to tlie other end of London, where iliis destination was a dingy shop with the ; announcement—- " Marino Stores—Wardrobes bought arid sold." With the assistance of his "old woman 1 " and his " two gals," the contents of tho canvas sack were re-examined and appraised, Among other things, it contained the coat that Shortmiles had lost a few hours before, Some days later, a stout and comfortablelooking old gentleman, with benevolent blue eyes and an amiable double-chin, stepped cheerfully into tho "Stores," followed by a thin man, whose more than shabby exterior and general appearanccof extreme depression proclaimed that he was very hard downrin his luck, ' j "Have you got such a thing as a strong warm topcoat?" inquired the stout gentleman, j "A topcoat ?" said the dealer suspiciously, " What sort of a coat do you moan? Do you want to buy one, hey ?"' j "Of course, I do. Do you think I shall ask you to make me a present of one? I want a coat that will fit this man here. Anything that's warm and tidy will suit," j " Oh, werry well; then I think I can show you just the liarticlc you'll like;" and tljo wary dealer, feeling ho was safe, produced tho garment whose adventures it is our business to traee. j "Now, Reeves," observed the former, ajs they quitted the shop, "you said you could got a good job at once, if you only had your tools out of pledge and a coat to cover you, Here is the money for the tools—fifteen shillings, Take them. And may God prosper you, my man; may God prosper you I" : Two big tears coursed slowly down the rough cheeks of the mechanic, as he grasped for a moment tho extended hand of his benefactor. " I'll never forget this, sir—never li 1 ho murmured in a broken voice. "It ain't for the likes of mo to ask your name and who you are; nor yet to offer to pay you back when better times come to me-as they will now, as thoy will now. Rut you've saveijl me from worse than death this night, sir. Believe mo, I never raised my finger to take what didn't belong to mo afore. Is was only want and desperation that ever gavo the dovil a chance io put it in my head. I shall get work now, thanks to you; and I'll be an honest man still, as I always have been," ■ \ . "Yes, yes; of course you will," said the old gentleman, nodding his head in friendly , assont, while his kind mild blue eyes glistened molstly undir the gas-lamp. "And look horo, Reeves; if ever you got better off, and come across a poor man in want of a little help, you help him, Reeves, d'yo see—you help him 1" VIII. , ' The blessing which tho good Samaritan had invoked upon the man ho had saved from disgrace and misery came down upon him,, Reeve 9 prospered. Bit by bit, his cottage , grow into a : cosy home, that he loved more :and more every day; his children became plump and rosy-cheeked, and his wife brighteyed and happy, But in all this new-born prosperity, the grateful mechanic never for:got his true friend's parting injunction to be tender to others in distress. It will only be> necessary to mention onooccasionupon which he succeeded in imitating, very closely, the sublime example of magnanimous charity that had been his own salvation, Reeves was returning from work, It was •rather late; and what few people were,about were hurrying out of the blinding sleet and piercing blast as fast as their legs could carry them, and that was at 110 remarkable speed, 011 atcount of the atmospheric opposition they encountered. At one moment, the wind suddenly increased to tho fury of a hurricane arid compelled Reeves to seek temporary shelter in a friendly doorway,' He was not alono there, Somo one olse had adopted tho principle of "any port iu a' storm." It tos a man—gaunt, hollow'cheeked,' ill-clad, shivering, and miserable. ' "What a fearful night—ain't it ?" observed Reevesj in a gentle voice. "S'pose it is, I don't' care; it's all the samo to mo," returned the man hoarsely. 1 • "I don't want to be rude,",continued Reeyes, in the same tones of sympathy, "but you seem to be hard up. I've been' in tho samo case myself, and I can pity you, I'm o'nly'a working man, and I know what bad times mean," : V" It'ain't that alone what's the matter with rile, mate; although you're right so far, It would puzzle anybody to be wuss off than ■4 - lam just now. But it's sorrer that's a-kill-irig .me,, more than want, I'm a-dying, mato„that's what I am," j "Come, come; don't talk like thai; you'll feel hotter after a'; good supper and a comnight's rest. And I've got a bob or •two as'will pay for them." ; " You're a man -a true brick I. It does a chap good to speak, to the like ,of you.' I thought the breed had died out, Butii ain't suppers and nights' rests that'll give me back my wife! I want my wife I I've been hunting for her high and low all over London, from one end to the other, for the last six months. And I can't find her. I can't come across her nohow. 0 Mary, Mary! why did you leavo'me and tho children when wo, was so fond of , you, You know we was I Why X did you go.?'" He leant his forehead against K, the rougn bricks, and wailed forth the agony of his breaking heart, unconsciously, Presently, he ; drew; himself up and shook his • emaciated fist in fierce rage. "Curses I" ho' cried—" a million black, bitter curses on tho

man na tice'dJior:froniati(i'! ilt'l had him by. thp throat now-so, like that—l'd tear him! limb from limb I"

For some time Reeves said nothing. He 'felt he'was ill the presenceof a'troublo which no words of his could assuage, But by-and-bye, whon the poor fellow's passion had spent -itself, ho ventured;-'' Look 'c here, friend. You'll find your wifo one day, either on earth or in heaven, God pardons such weak, misguided creatures as she; and if you should nover meet hoi' hero, you will there, dopend on it, You don't know how she has suffered) you don't know how she has repented; you don't know' how her fault may have been blotted out and her sins forgiven,' Mate, I sha'n'tsay anything more about it, becauso I can't help you in the matter. But I can do so-iu another. When I get homo, I shall find a bright cheerful fire, : plenty to eat and drink, ana a warm change of clothes. You won't, have such luck as that. The togs you'vo got on now wouldn't be much use to you in summer, 1 lot alone such a night as this. I'm going to leavo you my overcoat—that's what I'm going to do. It ain't elegant; but It will stand a thundering lot of wear yet;: and it's warm and waterproof, Here, catch hold of it," continued Reoves, divesting himself of the garment, and throwing it over the man's shoulders, " Don't mind me, I can buy another to-morrow, thank God. You'll find three or four bob in the left sidepocket ;• get yourself a glass of something hot, a jolly good supper, and a clean shake-down, No thanks, old chap; I'm not used to'em, Good-bye, and good luok to you. I'm off l!" Suiting , the action to the ; word, Reeves darted out of the doorway,' and quickly disappeared from view down an adjoining street, !

A quarter of an hour later, tho recipient 6f the generous mechanic's bounty was recruiting his exhausted frame with half a pork pie, and a pint hot alo strongly flavored with ginger. While he was disposing of this, to him, delicious faro, his eyes rested upon a ten-days-old newspaper, that chanced to lie onthe.bar of the public-house in which he stood. All at once a gray, ashy hue overspread his faco; the knife slipped from his trembling grasp; with shaking fingers he seized tho paper, aud gazed at one short paragraph with such an expression of horror and despair that the barman on the othfer side was startled, and said; "What's the matter? Aroyou ill?" : 1

"Read that for me," replied tho mijn wildly, _ "I can't see—l feel as if I were going blind, Read that," • !

The barman took the journal and read at tho place indicated: "Pound Drowned,— The body of a woman, age about thirty, arid evidently belonging to the poorer classes, was yesterday taken out of the Thames, nekr Woolwich, She had on an old cloth jacket, much worn; common black alpaca dress; jean petticoat; coloured stockings, and buttoned boots, rather dilapidated, Is marked with a small scar over tho right eyebrow. In the pocket were found a leather purse containing fourpence in coppers, and a bit of card that had evidently been written upon, although tho words' Joe' and ' forgive' were alone legible. The body had suffered from long immersion, It was taken to the mortiiary." "Thank' you," said the man mechanically, passing his hand over his clammy brow, ' | "It don't mean troublo to you, I hope? 1" asked the barman feelingly. ' ! "I'm Joe," replied the other, as 110 staggered to the door and left the house. :

He walked On and on, quite heedless of the mingled rainand snow, that blew in gusty torrents from every; point of the compass. Other pedestrians might grumble bitterly, or swear savagely, at finding themselves out in such uncharitable weather. This man could scarcely liavo told whether it was mid-winter or mid-summer. He didn't care. All kinds of weather wero tho same to him now. It was lato when he found himself on Westminster Bridge '; and it was quite deserted.* Deliberately 110 climbed' one of the centre* buttresses and stood outside the parapet, gazing into the dark abyss beneath, Then he took off the coat which Reeves had given him a few hours before, folded it up tightly, and flung it back on to tho bridge. "I won't waste that," lie muttered, "Some otlidr poor un may pick it up, and be glad of it. That kind-hearted chap said as how I should one day meet Mary on earth or in heaven. I know where to find her now; but it isnjt here." He crouched down, aud then suddenly sprang forward. The gloom swallowed him up, TIIO waters closed for ovor over him. ]

IX. The coat experienced a fow rapid and uneventful changes of ownership, after this, in the way of being bartered and sold "in the trade," Within a week, it became tho property of a gentleman who never saw it, ot even knew of its existence, The gentleman had a large house at Notting Hill, employed men-servant 3 and maid-servants, owned horses and carriages, and massive silver plate at his six o'clock dinner, and was treated with marked respect by his bankers in Lom: bard street, Ho also had an extensive warcr house in the city, where he carried on a highly remunerative business as an "exported of second-hand wearing apparel," Ho was i big merchant, His books showed .many thousand pounds a year net profit. But his grandfather had tramped the streets of Lon« don with three or four lmts on the top of his head, and asaok slung over his shoulders, as ho sang'oufc " Ole clo'!" at regular intervals] like the. minute-gun at sea. There were people who could.recollcct it,-Strange, that there always should be peoplewhose aro so terribly distinct upon any subject, we most particularly wish to relegate to oblivion, ! The gentleman of Notting Hill disliked any' reference'to the " founder of the firm." He felt strangely ashamed of his ancestor, dead! and gone, There is a mighty difference,; thought he, between walking about to piclt up a few shabby garments hero and there,; and buying them wholesale by hundreds and! thousands, to be packed in heavy bales, " marked and numbered as por margin," and, shipped to the uttermost ends of the earth 1! x, We are going across the sea, on the lightning wings of fancy. We want to look up some old friends of ours, and find out how: •they .are getting on, It will bo recollected' that Mark Roper, with his wife Pattie and! their baby, emigrated to Australia, there to! court that better fortune which had persist- j ently refused to smile upon them in the land:! of their birth. Three years have passed since! they first foot upon the shores of the new country, with a capital , consisting of a very ; small amount of money and a very large i amount of pluck, The latter has stood them; in good stead, as it will anybody who only! makes up his mind to rely upon it steadily.: Pluck is one of the best substitutes for more; substantial property that a man, can possess,' Mark found it so. At first he had a very; rough uphill battle to fight, Circumstances i let him have one or two powerful slaps; "straight from the shoulder," just to try' what metal he was made of. He always gave forth.the true ring, and came up smiling, 1 Then circumstances 'turned round in a friendly manner, patted him approvingly upon the back, and said i " You'll do!" And ho did do, as well as he could wish, and far better than he expected. He has thrown oyer his original- trade long ago, and is part owner of a small sheep-run "up-country." His home—surrounded by a large and well- ,' cultivated garden—is a cottage built of logs i and corrugated zinc; rather rough to look at : outside, but exceedingly bright and cosy, if 1 ; wegivo a peep at the interior, as ye shall:] take the liberty of .doing,, . . " Pattie is tliere, ■ busily preparing .a supper of unusual abundance. She expects her hus-.

iband homo to-night,.after an absenco of six days, He lias been to Melbourne, whore ho will ondeavor to pick up two or three steady young fellows to work on the " run," as their stook is increasing, and more help is required, Very different does the young wife look now, compared with whon we 'saw her stretched upon the pallet in Cribble street, Mile End, sipping the parish gruel. She has changed ■into a comely, blooming woman, with a glow of health and contentment upon her face most pleasant to behold.' "Baby" Pattie sits on a high chair at the table, watching her mother's culinary operations with great intentness, and trying to dip her little fingers into everything within her reach; In the corner is a cradle, where a pretty boy of twolve months reposes quietly, with his great bluo eyes wido open, staring at the ceiling, and exhibiting a perfectly philosophic indifference to the rattle of plates, pots, and pans, tningled with the incessant .chatter of his sister. :

By-and-bye, the wife's attentive ear caught the sound of wheels. She flew to the door, and saw a waggon, drawn by a pair of strong horses, rapidly approaching. Directly she appeared, the man who was driving gavo the reins in charge Of anothor, leaped to the ground, and ran to meet her. It was Mark Ropor, Ho caught her in his arms and kissed her, To seo this happy pair, you would have thought thoy had, been parted for years instead of, for days, They loved each other as fervently as over When the waggon drew up near the door, Mark introduced the two young men he had . engaged at Melbourne; and then .'they proceeded to unpack and carry into the dwelling a number of tools, implements, bundles, ana parcels—the last named containing household comforts and necessaries, such as people supply themselves with in quantities, when they lived nearly two hundred miles away from tho principal town, to which thoy can only pay very occasional visits. After a gigantic supper had been disposed of, the two new " helps," weary with tlfdir long journey, retired to rest, and Mark and his wife settled themselves down for a quite chat upon affairs .in general, particularly their own. 11 What a lot of clothes you have bought I" said Pattie, as she examined a motley heap of garments before her, " Yes," observed Merk. "Wo shall want them all, The fresh hands have plenty of rough work before them, and will wear them out soon enough, I warrant." " Here is a great ugly heavy coat, Whom do you intend this for?"

"Oh, that—they throw it in cheap, so I took it, It will serve somebody a turn iii the rainy season," "The lining wants coming out; it is all going to pieces," she remarked, taking up her scissors and snipping away at some loose rags, " Hullo! What's this ?"

"What's what?" inquired Mark, over the tankard he was lifting to his lips, " This! There is another lining underand something stitched inside it." "Rip it open, then, my dear." No sooner said than done, In another moment Pattidrew forth a thin oil-skin envelope, and laid it on the table. " What's in that, I wonder?" cried Mark, holding it up to the light '' Paper of somo kind, I can see, Slit it open gently with a knife, girl, Don't tear anything, Be careful."

"It's bank-notes!"exclaimedPattie, pale with excitement. "Look! One; two, three, four, fivo." "By Jove! so they are, Five Bank of England notes for—for Why, Pattie, they're for a thousand pounds apiece!" The rustling wealth shook in his trembling hand as he spoke.. _ " And here is something else, Mark—a bit of paper with writing upon it. What does it all mean ?" " Read it," said her husband, Thus it ran: " Whoever finds this money —five thousand pounds-may keep it, I give it to them freely. It's all mine, and gothonestly. (Signed)JamesGelswobthy." " Uncle's money !" cried Pattio, gasping with astonishment, " And your unclo's coat!" added Mark in the same tone. " I remember it well now, torn and dirty as it is, I might have known it by the buttons, To think - only to think that it should have come back to us again, when I sold the whole concern moro than three years ago for fifteen shillings!"