CHAPTER XXXV.

Waikato Times, Volume XIX, Issue 1619, 18 November 1882, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XXXV.

" I wonder much how the lleverond Slcekie will get on with Mucklcbody," said Walter, as we drove up to M'Phun's residence — a neat little suburban establishment, sunounded by cdiefully-ke2)fc giounds. " Sleekie I— is ho to bo of the party, then ?" " Sure to bo ! Miss M'Crankie— M'Phun's aunt, you know — wouldn't leave him out on any account, so you may make up your mind to the infliction." And, accordingly, when wo entered the drawingroom, the fiist person we beheld was the lleverend Samuel, seated opposite to a busk-looking, little, old lady, with bright, black eyes, and shoit, iron-giey cuils on each temple. Besides the host, theic was only one other person present, and I was, in due course, introduced to Miss Alison M'Crankic and Mr. Sharpc Shuter. The latter was a tall, good-looking young man, with unruly biown hair, a keen, intelligent face, and a style of speaking that reminded one of the immortal Mr. Alfred Jingle. "Mucklebody hasn't arrived yet," said M'Phun — " nor Fysshe. Have you seen anything of i'ysshe, Shuter ?" " Saw him this morning," answered Mr. Shuter, pulling the end of a straw-coloied moustache — "not since. Ceitain to be here directly, though. Sure card, Fysshc." "Is it not a woeful thing," put in Mr. Sleekie, "that the ungodly inhabitants of this land are so much given unto the pernicious and soul-destroying practice of card-playing, that even in their ordinary conversation they do use the language theieof !" " What's the man mean ?" asked Shuter, in an undertone, of M'Phun. The latter smiled. " Because you called Fysshe a suie caul, I suppose," he answeicd, in the same tone. " Don't mind the man ; he is a \notH(]i of my aunt's." " Hum ! Must not speak by the card, then," said Shuter. "Here's Fysshe at last." "And Mucklebody also," said the host — " to judge fiom the noise." The Scotchman's loud and jovial tones weie now heard from below, and ho piesently made his appearance in company with a palefaced and solemn -eyed young man, who was announced as Mr. Dionysius Fysshc. Mi. i'^sbhe, who was elaborately attired, was as piecise and formal in speech as in diess ; in fact, being, as Shutei infoimed me, a press reporter, he spoke exuetly as ho wrote, and supremely ludicrous was the effect o[ his importation into piivate life of the exalted phraseology of the paragraphist. But if Mr. Fysshe's dress was remarkable in one direction, Mr. Mucldebody's was no less so in another. He had thrust himself somehow into a brass-buttoned swallow-tail coat, w hich was as small in size as it was supei - annuatcd in fashion, and indeed, as he soon informed us, it had belonged to his grandfather, who was " but a wee bit o' a body, but still, foi the sake o' auld lang syne, he didna like to pairt wi the coat." From the narrow sleeves of this gaiment projected about six inches of long wiist, plentifully garnished with led hair, while the tails thereof, dividing gracefully about midway up the wcareis back, came to a laughable and untimely conclusion somewheic in the legion of his hips. Fiom beneath his lough red beaid stood out the ends of an immense white bow, and the glitter of a massive gold watch chain contiasted strikingly with the chiomatic glories of a tai tan waistcoat. Very well satisfied with himself, nevertheless, was Mr. Mucklebody, and, having shaken the hand of Miss M'Crankie with a goodwill, which made the little lady wince, he turned to be introduced to the rest of the company. The moment his eye fell upon the countenance of Sleekie, however, his jovial giin disappeared, his bushy eyebrows contracted, and he stood for a moment, as if in thought. " Ay, to be sure I" he said, half-aloud, as he acknowledged Sleekie's bow with a bhoit nod, and then turned unceremoniously away. " Our Caledonian friend appears to have seen the parson before," said Shuter to me. " Recollection don't seem to be a pleasant one, does it ?" Then we went doA\n to dinner, and, after a long and elaborate grace had been pronounced by Mr. Sleekie, Miss M'Crankie inquired if T did not think Melbourne an awfully wicked city. " You do not know it yet," she said, with a shake of her head, when I had answered that I did not think it was specially so. "It is only those who go about, as I do, trying to win souls to to the true fold, who become aware of the real wickedness of Melbourne. And I may tiuly say," went on the little lady, with a glance at Mr. Sleekie, " that I have done some good by my efforts." The lleyerend Samuel groaned, as if indoubt of his fact. "Mr. Sleekie does not agiee %\ith me on this point, I know," said Miss M'Crankie. "He says that the Church of the Purified Few is complete — that we cannot make any more additions to its numbers, but, though he is my pastor, I venture to differ from him there." The lleverend groaned more lamentably than before, and M'Phun looked at me with a twinkle in his eye. " Mr. Sleekie, is ill, I fear," he said. " 111 in mind, my friend," said Mr. Sleekie — "not in body; I am troubled for the wickedness of this generation 1" " Hoot, awa, man !" said Mucklebody ; " the generation's no that bad ava ! A dinna conseeder mysel' sac inuckle a sinner, an' whaur yell find ane waur than me, yell find twa better I" "Very modest opinion of his own moral status," said Shuter. " The poet," put in Mr. Fysske, ponderously, " speaks of the pride that apes humility." " A dinna care a brass bodle what the poet says," returned Mucklebody. " A'rn no apin' humeelity, nor anything else. Am only sayin 1 they're but fules, these puir, soor meeserable folk, whas aye runnin' doon the warld, an' a' that's in it. Thewarld's a verra gude warld, A say !" " You are inclined, 1 perceive, sir," said Pysbhe, " to favor the optimistic / view of, the scheme of things." ' ' ■ " Optimeeatic ! — what the, deevil! — I beg yere pairdon;' meW-rthe .word .slipped^;oot unawares," > „ ,\? y '■ > ,, r '* s\? t ' '"£" >: $Kbs; • B^.CranTae, 'Jiadjhalf riis"en^fro,m^hesr iis"en^f ro,m^he$

M'Phun was shaking with suppressed laugh lei. " Boil's in'fc, man 1" exclaimed the Scotohman, aggravating the offence in his confusion, "ye needna turn up your een like a dein' duck. Am sorry a spak' the word befoie a leddy, but A dinna ken what foi ye need he sac mucklc shockit at a bit aith. Am better aequent wi ye than ye theenk, ma man !" "Well, Mr. Mucklebody," said M'Phun, interposing, " you were saying that you think the woild's a veiy good world on the whole." " Ay, man — that A do ; an All sing ye a song tae that elfcc' after a wee." " Delighted," said the host. " After Miss M'Ciankic has left the table, we'll be glad to hear it ; but what I was going to say to you is that Mr. Shuter, there, is a man ot your way of thinking. He also thinks the woild is a very good world." " Am glad tae hear it," Mucklebody said, turning to Shuter. " That's the licht way o' thinking for a young man — or an auld ane either, for that matter. Then ye dinna want tae hae the warld mendit, Mr. Shu lor '?" " Don't go so far as that," said Shuter. " Many things in the woilil that might be mended. Moie good than ill around us, though— if we'd only look for it. Some people ' he went on, with a glance at Sleckie, " speak of man as naturally evil and vile — poor miserable woiin, and so foith. Wictchcd twaddle ! Man's a noble being — wondeiful being! As much good in him as c\il ! Meie pei version of language to dcsciibe him as a wietch, and a worm, and all that !" " (iie's ycrc han' man," said the enthusiastic Scotchman," Avhose dinner potations weic beginning to take effect on him. " Gie's yere han' ! Am prood tae mak yeic acquentance' Ma am thochts exae'ly, only pit-intii words that A eouldna gie them. Heie's yeie verra gude health," and Mr. Mucklebody swallowed a bunker, as Miss M'Crankie left the loom, followed by a legretful glance from Mr. Sleokie, who, though he doubtless consideied himself left alone amongst the ungodly, was manifestly unwilling to desert the good wine, upon which he had already done considerable execution. The Eeveiend Samuel, like not a few of his" stamp, was won't to grow more demonstratively holy as he grew more vinous, and, as the bottle now chculated lapklly, he soon began to piesent an edifying combination of of ebiiety and lighteousne&s. The Scotchman, too, had grown decidedly bacchanalian, and favored us at intervals with snatches of " Willie brewed a peck o' maut," while Mr. Fysslie's sentences had giown moio pondeious and elaboiate than ever, and M'Phun's eye twinkled like a star, as he sat observant and amused at the head of the tiible. " Perhaps Mr. Mucklebody would favor us with the lyric in its entirety," said Fys-she. "I venture to piedicate, fiom the tentative vocal elioits with which he has hitheito obliged us, that his lendition of the whole would prove eminently satisfactory. " " Fyssho's words always get longer as he gets tip&iei," said Shutei aside to me. " He'll bo unintelligibly magniloquent in a quaitei of an hour." " Mr. Mucklebody has promised us a song ahcady," said the host. "What was it? — something about the woild?" "Ay ! All just wet ma whustle an' begin," and, having diained his glass, the Scotchman fixed his eyes on Mi. Sleekic, and began, in a voice that made the ceiling ring :—: — Ye pcic-h that hiiiii.uiity's 1 lie, holy m.in, An' ye mak' oot .1 sin on smile ; Yo say thoic's liac worth Tae be f and on the Giii th, An' the -\\aild it is miethhi' Imfc tfuilo, holy man, An the warld it i& naetlim' but guile. Ye venture ye'ic neibois tae damn, holy man, An' jo saj wi yeie sermon iin' psalm That the hcht-hcaitod Huang Tae the dcevil belling— Yet A theenk je arc nought but a sham, holy man, A theenk }C aie nought hut a sham ! But, snulHe an' snaiil as ye will, holy man, We will laugh when it nle.iscth us still ; Niie piuitan-picachiu' Can licttei th • tcachin' That theie's glide tae bo matched wi the ill. holy liiiin, Tlieie is gudc tae be matched wi the ill. An' this i& the blioit o' it al,a 1 , holy man — The laug an 1 the shoit o' it a' — Yc'ie a fulc for yeic pains, For the fac' still lcmains That the waild's no' a had w.uld ava, holy m.in, The waild s no 11 bad waild a\ii. To this ditty Mr. Sleekic sat listening, with a face that grew longer at cveiy veise. 1 ' Bias— blasphemous wretch ! " he said, when the song came to an end. " I will not remain in the company of such a poison," and he made an elf or t to get up fiom the table, but the wine had been too potent — he was fain to sink back in his seat again, and theie lemain, gioaning, and shedding vinous teais over the sinful Mucklebody. But the Scotchman, who had also taken more than was good for him, now took umbrage at the teim which had been applied to him by Slcekie. " Nae mair blaisphemous than yersel,' Mr. Sawmel Sleekie!" he said. "An' c'en if it ueresae, a preety fallow ye are lac rep^e onybody ! Did ye theenk A dinna ken ye, man ? Hae ye forgotten Belfast, an' ye're Uncle Crawford, eh? An' his son Jack, that was transported, eh? Talk tae me aboot blaisphemy, indeed, ye graceless loon ! Yersel' was mair than suspeckit o' bein' at the bottom o' what yer cousin got a' the blame o.' Ay, gentlemen, ye may staie, but it's true I His reverence, there— the Eeverend Sawmel Sleekie, at yere sairvice — was in his uncle's coontin-hou'se in Belfast, when A was leevin' there on behalf o' a Glasgie firm. His cousin, puir Jack Crawford, had a quarrel wi the auld man, an' got turned oot o' doors, an' no verra lang afterwards the office was brakintil, an ( robbit. Young Crawfoid was tried for the robbery, an' convected, but befoie he was sentenced, he declared solemnly, that he hadna touched a bodle o' the siller, an' that he had only been searchin' for a bit peecture, that his faither had ta'en awa fiae him. The auld man didna believe this, until a gude bit after Jack wastiansported, an' then he fand out something, that made Sawmel Sleekie tak leg-bail. A kenned the fallow, the moment A set ma een on him, but a wadna hae exposed him, if he had keepit his tongue wi'in his teeth. Him an' his blaisphemy, indeed !" Sleekie's unwholesome countenance grew ghastly pale as he listened, his jaw dropped like that of a corpse, and beads of perspiration stood out upon his brow. But the shock of the exposure partly sobered him, and, rising fiom the table, lie stammered forth that he did not feel well, and would Mr. M'Phun excuse him for retiring. Mr. M'Phun did excuse him, aud the lleverend Samuel sneaked out of the room, like the miserable hypocrite he was. "Remarkable Coincidence in Heal Lifo!" murmured Fysshe, who was now half-seas-over, and doubtless imagined that he was composing a paragraph. " The Boniarice of Facts— Truth stranger than Fiction I"— with which observations, he suddenly disappeared under the table. He was laid npon a sofa, until, when the party broke up, somcthiee hours later, he was sufficiently recovered, to take> his place in a hansom, with the more harcl-hea'ded Scotchman.