CHAPTER II THE PERFECT DAY

Waikato Times, Volume XXIV, Issue 1985, 28 March 1885, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER II THE PERFECT DAY

The next morning broke as wet and miserable aa had the preceding one, but Charlie Herbert rose and dressed with more alacrity than had been his wont of late. He had his breakfast cheerily, bade good morning to his wife and child, and sallied forth with their kisses warm upon his lips. How often had he done the same, and how often had he returned at night crushed and despondent. Would this day be like the others? Away with the dreary thought. He must he would succeed, he would, he would, but how ? ah, how ? He had sat up late the previous night, and had written a simple domestic tale. He had made no attempt at fine writing. He had planned no elegant sentences, he had only written as he felt, from, and with, his heart. Would this succeed, when so many more elaborately construed ones had failed. Who could tell ? Nothing occurs but the unexpected, and even then as he passed on his way toward Johnston street to catch a 'bus, an event occurred which, though as unexpected as it was apparently unimportant, had no small influence on his future. It was yet early, and no one was about, but when he had got some j distance along the street, he saw a group of three boys at the corner of an unfinished house that stood half way in a large open paddock. In their midst was an old woman crying bitt rly, and trembling violently, as if in extreme terror. He observed that she was decently and cleanly clad, and stopped to ask what was the matter. " Old 'ootnan says she'd been robbed by a cove as knocked her down and collared her bag an' 'rumbereller," replied one of the hopefuls of Collingwood. " I don't b'lieve a word on it," said another, " she's tight, that's what she is," then inspired by a noble thought, "let's fetch a bobby, and have her run in," and he danced a wild fandango of ferocious joy round her. The old lady had evidently been down, for her dress and mantle were stained with mud, and her bonnet was crushed and limp with the heavily falling rain. "Don't believe 'em, sir," she said piteously, " and, oh, don't leave me here to the mercy of these horrid boys." The old lady looked so ludicrously terrified that he could scarcely help smiling as he said, good-humoredly, " Well, V certainly won't leave you here in this predicament, if I can help you, but what can I do ? Where are you going ? Ah, Johnny Bendall, you leave off, will you, or I shall report this te your father, and he'll settle with you." This to the dancing larrikin, who was pluoking at the old woman's dress. Johnny Bendall opened his eyes pretty wide at being thus identified, and slunk away, followed by the other two. The old dame explained that she had been on a visit to her married daughter's, had stayed there all night, and was making her way to oatch the 'buß, when, as she was passing the building, a man had darted out from the side of it, had snatched her bag and umbrella, knocked her down and decamped, the three boys had then come along, and, as she said, had nearly frightened her out of her seven senses, and now she had to make her way to Melbourne in the rain, because in her bag was her purse with one pound eight in it, and she didn't have another farden on her. " Oh," said Charlie, pleasantly, " if that's all, never mind. I'm not a rich man, but threepence is neither here nor there to a female in distress. Here, come along, get under my umbrella, and I'll pay your 'bus fare." Little he thought as when he sat by her in the 'bus, she got quite chatty, and managed to worm & little of his history, very little, but enough for her purposes, little he thought when, on her stopping the bus in Bourke Street, he insisted on getting out with her and giving her the shelter of his umbrella, what the consequences would be. She led him direotly up to the office of Mr. Bobus, the great Melbourne publisher, and leaving him at the door, said, " You come here at eleven o'clock, young gentleman, and I'll pay you back the 'bus fare." " Oh, don't mention such a trifle as that, ■aid he. "Look here, young man, she said impressively, " maybe you've read the fable of the mouse and the lion ? " He replied that he had had that pleasure. " Will I ain't a lion, and you ain't a mouse, but you've done me a good turn, and maybe I can do you one. Will you come ? " What connection could this funny old woman have with the magnificent Mr. Bobus ° he thought. His laundress perhaps. However, there would be no harm in his calling, and so he promised he would. '• Very good, but hold on a minute, let's have no mistake. Here, William," she called to a youth who was sweeping the passage, " you see this gentleman ? Very well, when he calls at eleven, show him straight to Mr. Bobus." "Yes, ma'am," quoth William, and returned to his broom. All this seemed strange to Charlie, but he did not think much of it, although he attended punctually at eleven. " What's going to happen now, I wonder. Old, Bobus, pompous old beast, wouldn't even hear what I had to say last time I saw him. Thank me on behalf of his old laundress, I suppose, pay me back my threepence, and bow me out. Ah well, it's threepence saved at all events, and unfortunately threepence is threepence with me now-a-days'" William was duly waiting for him ot the door, and ushered him into the august presence of the literary potentate. But to his surprise, instead of that potentate meeting him with, " Now then, young fellow, what's all this about threepence ? " or ordering him to kneel before him, Bobua advanced with a genial smile — (how few authors have ever seen Bobua smile 1 ) — and shaking him by tho hand, said, " My dear Bir, I have to tnank you, on behalf of my mother, for a very signal service." " Your mother? " ejaculated Charlie. " Yes, my mother. Is it so very singular that I should have a mother ? " said Bobus, radiant. 11 No sir, but — " " Ah, never mind. " We're a queer family, we are, as you'll find out. She's told me all about it. And now, young follow, what can I do for you ? " Was this the same Bobua, or was it a pantomime trick. Just now he was Bobus the beaming, overflowing with smiles and bonhommie, and now he was Bobus the business man, sharp aa a needle, blunt aa a brick-bat, magnificent ai the great Mogul. 11 Do for me, sir ? Why, I hardly—" ■

" You don't know ? then how the deuce should I know? Stop though, I've seen you before, havn't I ? " Charlie intimated that he had sunned himself in the light of the great man's countenance a few weeks before. " Thought bo. Never forget a face. Well, young Herbert — that's your name, I think — I believe I treated you rather shabbily last time. I know I did. Didn't give you a fair hearing. Maybe not. But then you iee I've so many sucking Dickensea coming to me that I sometimes wish they all were at the Dickens. My joke, you know." Thus spoke the smiling Bobus, and then Bobus the magnificent with, " But come, time's money. Got anything with you. Mother says I must give you a show, if I can, so I suppose I must, if I can." Charlie's heart beat high as he took out his manuscript, and handed it over to the great man, who sat down, motioning him to do the same. Then Bobus, the magnificent, deliberately put on hia pince-nez, gave a sonorous ' ahem 1 and proceeded to read. He read a couple of slips or so, and then said suddenly : " Hallo ! young chap, where did you get this ? " "Get this?" echoed Charlie, reddening, " Why I wrote it to be sure." " Yes, I know, but where did you get it ? " " Get it ? Out of my own head ; where else ? " " Out of his own head, where else 1 " repeated Bobus absently. He resumed the reading for awhile, and then asked, " Have you got much of this sort of thing ? " " No, that is the first story of the kind I have written. I wrote it last night." "He wrote it last night. Ah 1 and he told me he was an amateur. Urn 1 Have you published anything in — a — a — Melbourne ? " " Only one story in the Continental Journal." " Oh, tho Continental; ah 1 " said Bobus, indifferently. Charlie felt somewhat nettled, and replied warmly, "Yes, the Continental; they gave me five guineas for it." Bobus jumped up as if the clown had applied the red hot poker to him, and ejaculated: "Wha-a-t!" This was another pantomime trick surely, for Bobus the magnificent had utterly departed, and there stood, staring wildly Bobus the astounded, Bobus the appalled. He gasped for breath, and then asked slowly, and with a pause between each word: "The — Continental — gaye — you — five— guiaeas — for — a — story ? " " They did." " And paid you for it ? " " Yes, or what is the same thing, they paid a friend of mine who got it inserted, and he handed me over the money." " What friend?" " Mr. John Lovelace." Bobus the appalled became Bobus the petrified. He glared at Charley for fully a minute, opened his mouth, and only gasped, then sunk helplessly on his ohair, faintly sighing, " Oh 1 thia is too much." " Are you ill, sir ? " asked Charlie, anxiously. "Am I ill, he asks me," replied Bobus, the helpless, faintly, yet solemly, appealing to the gasburner. " This young man de--libfirately tells me — me, Jonathan Bobus, of Melbourne; publisher, that Jack Lovelace gets him aT fitory inserted__in the Continental, for which he received five guineas" and that Jack pays the five guineas over to him. He tells me that I" "Yes, sir, I do tell you that, and I further tell you that I am not accustomed to having my word doubted." "Is this a horrid dream or not?" muttered Bobus the helpless to himself. " No, he is there, lam here. I havn't been drinking, and yet, and yet — Tell me, did Jack Lovelace pay you by cheque ? " He did not. He gave me three one pound notes, three£half s sovereigns, and the rest in silver. " I thought so. I thought he'd say that," muttered Bobus, relapsing for a moment into his character of the smiler. " Pardon me," said Charlie, hotly, " but do you mean to say, or am I to infer that I am not speaking the truth ? " " No, sir," replied Bobus, by this time rapidly rising into his original character of Bobus the magnificent, " but I was for a moment overwhelmed by the astounding discovery that there could be found any one so utterly lost to all sense of what is, or what is not possible, so absolutely and positively — may I say — green, as to imagine for one moment that the Continental would be capable of paying five guineas for a story. Great heavens, sir ! " he went on, almost angrily, " it's monstrous. Such ignorance is little less than criminal." "I don't understand all this," remarked Charlie, puzzled. " No more do I, dear boy," returned Bobus the smiling, promptly. Then changing to the magnificent, more magnificent than ever, if possible. " But never mind, young sir, I will understand it, ere long, and so shall you. In the meantime, let us return to our business. I will take this article, and another eleven of similar length and charaoter at ten guineas each. There, sir, is a cheque for ten guineas for thia one, the others will be paid for on delivery. And now," and again spake Bobus the gracious, " our business being concluded, let us have a glass of wine, and drink prosperity to the new venture. And I think," he added, slyly, " I don't think you'll say you made a bad investment when you speculated that threepenny bit."

Practically, my story is over ; but an author feels loth to part with the idols of his creation without placing them, neither, I fancy, does a reader without knowing something of them, even after the curt an has dropped. A abort conversation, in dramatio form, which took place in the now no longer scantily furnished sitting-room of the little cottage on Collingwood flat, may explain all. Chaklie : But why, my dear Jaok, did you do it? Jack : Why, you see, Charlie, you were bo awfully down in the mouth that I thought it would put a little heart into you, and I knew your luck must change sooner or later. It has changed, sooner, beside (apologetically) I owed you a good turn for many favors— Ch vblig : Hold on, there. I never did you any favors, particularly. Jvck: Didn't you. Ah, you have forgotten. I haven't. Charlie : Well, at all events, you must allow me to — Jack: Hold on you, now. That> all squared. Old Bobus — the old ruffian — isn't a bad sort after all. He sent for me, and insisted on writing me out a cheque for the amount, ivith interest, so you see I haven't done so badly out of the transaction after all. (Enter Mrs. Herbert, door L.) Mrs. H: Oh, Charlie dear, what do you think, that delightful old lady has been here again, and has brought baby such a love of a frock (teeing Jack), ah ! Mr. Lovelace, I didn't see you. However shall we repay — Jack : By permitting me the honor of expressing thus my esteem of and devotion to the best woman in the world (raises her hand to hit lips and kisses /t.) And novr I'll go and smoke in the verandah. (Exit hattily door L.) Mbs. H : Oh, Charlie ! ) lv ,„ x CHABLiEi.Oh, Jennie! } (Embrace.) (the end.)