Sketcher.

Waikato Times, Volume XIX, Issue 1592, 16 September 1882, Page 6

Sketcher.

NOT EXACTLY AS WE HAD INTENDED.' We all disliked hip (I refer to that dreadful Small Measure, his first name really being " Sam," but changed by us, with one consent, as soon as we beheld him, to " Small," as much more appropriate) heartily enough before ; but after he had the presumption to fall, or pretend he had fallen, in love with Mildred Dainty, our landlady's pretty daughter, we absolutely detested him. We had been a community of young artists and scribblers, .barring the old gentleman in the third story front, who was a wholesale grocer, and 1 the maiden lady of uncertain age in the fourth story back, who was a milliner — both of them as goodnatured souls as ever lived — without a discordant spirit previous to his arrival. But ever since that October afternoon he first made his appearance at the front door, arrayed in a drab suit and a felt hat of the same melancholy color, with a brown satchel in one hand and a black silk umbrella in the other, and inquired, in the meekest and thinnest of voices, if he " could obtain board there," and had obtained board there, our landlandy being much impressed by his verjr respectful manner and the mournful tone in which he referred to his mother as " an angel in heaven," he had persistently pushed his wayinto our circle, eating our oysters, drinking our beer, smoking our tobacco and cigars, never reciprocating in the slightest degree, and,' in short, as Tom Toms expressed it, " becoming a reg'lar nuisance." We managed to endure him, however, with many sarcastic remarks and broad — extremely broad — hints about interlopers, all of which rebounded lightly from our target, he belonging .to that too numerous class the iron-clads, until, as I said before, he tried to make love to Mildred Dainty.- Then, indeed, the already half-awakened lion, or, more properly speaking, lions, were aroused, and ready to tear him limb from limb. We, the artistic and literary fellows, had known her nince «he was thirteen years of age, and almost all of us had been wildly in. love with her before she saw her eighteenth birthday ; but on that auspicious (particularly for him) day she was betrothed to Charley Seabright. And we were all sincerely glad — that is, as sincerely glad as rejected suitors could be — that Charley had won the prize, for he was a splendid fellow, handsome, talented, generous, and — what some handsome, generous, and talented fellows arc not — honorable. Mrs. Dainty was a queer, shy woman, with a Boman nose that suggested the nose of Michael Angelo, looking as though (as was really the case with Mike's) somebody at an early period of life had depressed the bridge of it ; a pair of mild blue apolegetic eyes ; hair — which she arranged in many flat puffs from the nape of her neck to her brow, causing her head to res'emMe s, phrenological chart of a subdued brown ; and a pretty little mouth. The daughter was totally unlike her, except as to mouth, having large merry gray eyes, gdlden brown hair (which, then unbound; fell to her very feet), a delicate straight nose, rosy cheeks, and a smile like — like — well, George Lee wrote of it once, " A smile like the flash of the humming-bird's wing As it hovers over the lilies." And as Charley was dark, with great black eyes and hair, and mustache to match, they formed Jan admirable contrast. And somebody says, very justly, according to my way of thinking, " In joining contrasts lieth Love's delights." Small Measure, the detested one, had oblique eyes of no particular color (George Lee spoke of them, or of, in the poetical style, one of them, as " a squinting eye to match a squinting mind"), light red hair, nose and chin sharp as a razor, and a great waste of material in the way of hands -and feet. However, he was so quiet, and spoke so tenderly of his departed maternal parent, and was so very deferential to Mrs. Dainty, that that dear good-hearted woman was quite taken with him, and used to, for a long while after he came among us, try to ward off our wordy attacks by some pleasant remarks, and adroitly substitute nice slices of meat from her own plate for the lumps of fat Neil Johnson, who carved, placed upon his, and give him extra large pieces of pie and cake in the fruit season to indemnify him for the apples, oranges, etc., that'Perce Winter and I — we sat at either side of him at> table— invariably contrived to confiscate. But after he had been there about five months, we noticed that even Mrs. Dainty began to treat him coolly ; and when he took to following Milliee about, and praying for her, dear little innocent girl, in a shrill voice at midnight, much to the annoyance of the boarders on his floor, knowing all the time that she was engaged to Charlie Seabright, she became downright angry, and let "the lump's of fat pass her unmolested, and gave him barely his share of cake and pie — not a jot more. ' Besides this, she confided to Charley, who confided to us, that Small Measure hadn't paid a cent of board for nearly two months, and that he gave as an explanation that the old gentlemen in whese employ he was was very ill, and accounts could not be squared until he got well again. None of us believed in this old gentleman, whose bookeeper went to business after lunch -and returned home an hour before dinner; and Tom Toms, who, disguised as a broom-seller, took the trpuble io follow him on two occasions, reported that unless the book-keeping was done in a billiard saloon or the Metropolitan Art Museum, none was done on those two occasions. Well, after our landlady's tacit agreement '■ to our proceedings, we did everything to oust ■ the unwelcome" guest ; but he seemed resolved, '. as Pauline says in The Lady of Lyons, re-* f erring to her own sex, that his " wings once ' scorched," he'd cling and cling forever. Mrs. Dainty summoned up courage and dunned j him sternly. He met her glance with tearful ] eyes, spoke of his once happy home and its ' lost guiding spirit, told her a long story about J his sick,employer 7 whom he could not forsake in the hour of adversity, because of his kind- < ness, in years long gone, to that dear guiding T . spirit, and-assured her she should be paid the .. moment lie himself was paid. And so another 1 month went, by, during which we'were pain- ,T., T . fully conscious that he ,was quietly sneering ■ at and exulting over our unsuccessful efforts 1 to get rid'of him, thereby nearly goading^'us to madness— or Selby Hardwiok, Vho. wrote >\ 'sensational stories for the sensational papers, ( said he was. But at last bur chance came. . s ' .Small measure informed Mrs. Dainty, as he i was departing-f-tp boolc.keepingf^one spring day,, that! he should npt be f back untilf, late> *I ttai nightl / ; ,y^e' v mstantly,^olyed^tofJo'ck' r 5 him out, andke^phimoul.iNoßhing^nlclhave ' .' happened b|tter,vlt"wasjApnl'l ; r^e'd^makV -C a';fnigHt r^t\fh£S^yM^^Y^MW, $ Se^|hght, fl the;only;,pne who|al|ray^|^u|e^,

second story front— where we sang, played the violin and guitar, told stories, repeated verses, and discussed art and literature, until ten o'clock, at which hour the rain began to pour down like a second, deluge. Merrier and merrier grew our party, and the noise was at its highest, when Perce Winter, who had been listening at the window, struck an attitude and shouted, " 'Tis he !" and becoming comparatively silent, we heard him fumbling at the lock with his night-key for a few moments, and then ringing the door-bell, gently at first, but gradually louder and louder. This ringing was immediately drowned by a jolly bacchanalian chorus, kept up without intermission fora quarter df an hour. At the / end of this time he had begun to bang upon flic door, and the banging w^is something fearful to hear, and Mrs. Dainty and the maiden lady, in light and airy costumes, were entreating us to stop it from the upper landing. ' " Oh, look here, this can't be stood, you ' know," said Tom Toms. " I propose that we go down in a body, open the door suddenly, fall upon him like a thunderbolt, and drive him off the stoop. And then, if he comes back again, I see nothing for it but a thrashing." I seconded the motion. It was carried unanimously. Like a band of Indians on the trail of an enemy, we stealthily descended the stairs. I quietly unbarred the door, took the key from my pocket, and unlocked it, the storm raging so fiercely outside meanwhile that what little noise I made could not be heard there, and then, as the door flew open, with a wild whoop we precipitated ourselves .upon the unfortunate banger, forcing him down the steps and into the gutter before he oould say " Jack Robinson." He struggled out and clasped a lamp-post that stood near, and as he did so the light from the lamp fell on his face, and a wellknown voice fell on our ears : " For Heaven's sake, boy's, what do you mean ?" It wasn't Small Measure— it was Charley Seabright! Charley, our best comrade— our own jolly, generous, splendid, old Charley! We dragged him up the steps in still shorter time than we had driven him down, and into the hall, where we had his rain-soaked overcoat off in a instant, and were about to carry him up staira with a wild confusion of tongues—" Why didn't you send word you were coming, old man?" "By Jove ! it's too bad." " You're the last person of whom we were thinking"-— when Perce Winter exclaimed, "But where, oh, where is that wretch Small Measure?" "I'm here," answered a soft hypocritical voice over the balusters, " very comfortable; thank you, and I've quite enjoyed the entertainment you gents have been givin'. I came right away after goin' out this afternoon, because seem' a little boy passin' with a piece of paper pinned to his back, I suddenly remembered that it was April-Fools' Day, and I was afraid somebody might make a fool of me. '•■ And I think it's distressin' to be made a fool of, particularly an April-fool. Good-night, f and pleasant dreams 1" But heleft the next day, just §,s Mrs. Dainty i had avowed her intention of invoking the aid of the law. His mother, who looked like any- [ thing but an angel— though to do her justice, r she was much better-looking than her son — came after him. " The scamp," she said, "arobbin' the money drawer, and a-leavin' me [ all alone to take care of the shop— pork, ma'am, quite extended, from a sassage to a hull hog— and I never knowin' where he was till this ; blessed mornin', and I shouldn't a knowed \ then if he hadn't been a-boastin' to a young t gal what lives in our neighborhood — he met , 'her out walkin' last Sunday — about the pretty ' young lady he was a-goin' to marry, and live ! quite the gentleman in a genteel boardin'- ' house. And she watfthat mad at his kissin' [ a shoe-butting and sich rubbidge — he havin' , onst kep' company with herself — that she follered him unbeknown to this house, and . then camp and toP me. He allus was a sly boots, that Sam, and I've had heaps of trouble [ with him ; but I'll pay you what he owes you, . ma'am, and then look his conduct over, as I've , done many times before ; but he'll have to mind his P's and Qs after this, I can tell you." And so we got rid of him at last, though not exactly as we had intended. — Harper's Weekly. Margaret Extinge