TALL TALK.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXI, Issue 2555, 24 November 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

TALL TALK.

BY Mrs W. Rattray. (Concluded.) "Is that the end f" asked Lily. "Oh ! tell us what they said ?" pleaded Maude. " I thought it ousht to leavo off abruptly," answered Janet, " you can so easily imagine all the rest. The explanation ; the sudden departure of the young man from his Dunedin haunts ; the tearful narrative of poor Miss Collins to the sympathising Florence ; and the amusing way she told the story to her father next day, carefully omitting her own name from the scheme !" " I vote we pass that story as very good," said the quiet Mr Smith. " Well," said Jack, "its pretty fair for an amateur, though. I'm not sure its pointed enough for this style of yarn." "You had better let us see what you nan do !" remarked Mr Smith and Jack, nothing loth, accepted the challenge. " When I was travelling in Russia last year, I lunched one day at a country house, some seven miles from the town where I was staying. There hud been many horrid stories of wolves told, and I wan warned to return to my quarters before dusk. I left the house, therefore, pretty early in the afternoon, not that I was in the least afraid of wolves, but I had a dinner engagement that night, and wished to get a stnoke and rest before dressing for it. I had gone about a tnile on the lonely road, when my horse went lame, and I could only make the poor brute go at a foot pace. I felt for my pistols ; they were quite safe, and a trusty short sword, which might prove useful if I came to close quarters with any sort of foe, hung at my side. To amusa myself I began to sing, when I fancied I heard what I at first took for an answering chorus ; but, turning round in my saddle, I discovered the noises proceeded from a pack of wolves." " Your singing must have been very discordant if you could mistake their voices for a chorus of your song," put in the Irishman. " No interruptions allowed," said Jack, sternly, "To resume my veracious—l should have said voracious"—interpolated the incorrigible Irishman. Jack followed him into silence, and went on—"Narrative, I urged iny horse forward by every means in my power. Poor beast l he was as keenly sensitive of the fearful danger we were in as I was, and he exerted himself nobly. But he could not keep it up, and after we had

gone together about four miles, he fell, of course throwing me to the ground. I dragged my feet out of the stirrups, and drawing my pistols from their places, stood with one in each hand, ready to meet the horrid animals, who, seeing tho accident, were appro iching like the wind. Suddenly it occurred to me that the brutes would probably stop and devour the horse, whilst I might even then make my escape. I was on the open ground,

not a bit of shelter near, but I set off running along the track as fast as ever I could. I glanced back when I had gone some distance, and saw that the wolves were holding high festival over the unfortunate horse, and I was first beginning to hope that they would let me get off, when one great, gaunt fellow suddenly separated himself from the rest, and came tearing after me. I ran on, on, till I could actually feel his hot breath on my hand. Then I pulled up, discharged one pistol down his throat and seizing my sword, I skinned him like a flash of lightning, and crept into his skin. I tied a piece of string which I had in my pocket (I had flung off my great c >at) all round me to keep my skin together, and then quickly set off again on all fours along the track, imitating as I best could a wolf's peculiar gait.

I suppose the brutes took me for one of themselves who had turned sulky, and was going off alone, for, though they followed me, and ate the skinned wolf, and even came pretty close to me, they did not attempt to molest me ! I had, however, to crawl along in that very unpleasant manner until I got quite close to the town, when the brutes disappeared in the distance. I raised myself up, took off the skin, and rolled myself in the snow to try and clean myself, and then entered the town. A Russian policeman at once seized me, and but for the intervention of a powerful friend, wbo luckily just then came past, I should have been put in prison as a most suspicious character. Of course I missed my dinner."

There was silence in the little circle for a few seconds when Jack's story was finished, and the ladies looked as if they had not altogether liked it, but the narrator himself seemed rather pleased at the effect he had produced on his listeners." " I think Jack has paved the way for a ghost story," observed Maude, who felt she would like to try her hand, or, more correctly speaking,- her tongue at story-telling. " Well, let Maude have a hearing, though I fear she's more used to yarn in connection with stockings than in a literary manner !" This, of course, from her brother. " So long as she doesn't make us yawn !" said Mr O'Flaerty, sotto voce. "Don't make it dreadful, Maude!" pleaded Lily, "Tt's getting late, and Jack's story made me creep." "Oh, "There's nothing blood-curdling in my story !" answered Maude, " the worst thing about it is, I am afraid I must confess it's founded on fact; and that doesn't seem the sort of story that is told in these games !" " Come now, Miss Palemer, don't be so hard on us !" said the Irishman, "you know all we said might have been true ; faith, and I, believe every word we've said to night." " You must indeed have great faith," Maude smilingly replied, "so I will tell my little tale, as 'twas told to .me. One

day, Mrs S pence, who lives a few miles up country, was informed by her lord and master, that he should be in town on business for three days, and he hoped she would not mind being left alone in the house, with only their four-year-old boy to keep her company? She was a brave woman, and she promptly answered she would not mind at all. So Mr Spence drove off, and she and the little boy parsed a very quiet day. Towards night she got nervous, and before it grew quite dusk, she shut up the house, and locked and bolted every door and window. "I wish I had a pistol," she said. But when she retired to her bed-room, she lighted a good fire, placed candle, matches, a hatchet, a bell, and a poker, on a chair by her bed side, and crept under the sheets beside her little boy. But for a long time she could not sleep, she had read in that day's paper of the unpleasant fact that two French convicts were supposed to be loose somewhere in their neighbourhood. The thought haunted her, and when at length she dozed off, she awoke with a stifled scream hearing most unaccountable noises, There was the unmistakeable clault, clank, of a chain, as though some manacled prisoners were endeavouring to find a comfortable place to rest in under the house. There was plenty of room, as the ground sloped away from the front, and there was quite standing-room under the leanto at the back. A door led into it, and here they stored wood and coal, and in hot weather, kept milk, etc., in a large safe, Kerosene, some shavings, and old papers were also stored there Great Heavens, if these fearful menshould find these combustibles and light a tire ! The thought added fresh horror to her already terrified imagination. She never for an inßtant doubted that the French convicts had found out her husband's absence, and were lurking under the house, till they should hear her open the dooi in the morninsf, when they would rush in, murder her child and herself, and ransack the house. But just then she heard tho chain rattle against a kerosene-tia, and she was instantly convinced that in another moment, they would carelessly Bet the house on fire, and they should all be burnt to death. For an instant longer, she was too paralysed with terror to move, then a sudden movement on the little boy's part, and the question:

"Whatever is that noise, mother?" made her brave. For the rattle of the chains was very loud now, and to crown her alarm, thoro was evidently a skirmish of some sort going' on below their room. Her love for her child gave her renewed strength and springing out of bed, and opening the window, she ransr the large handbell with all her might. It had the instant effect of rousing all the dogs in the neighbourhood. Her house was oif the main road, anl separated from others by a couple of paddocks.

Bark ! bark ! how very close that dog mu«t be ! She peered out still ringing vigorously, and by the lijdit of the moon saw just under hor window, a largo retriever. He batknd again, and wagged his tail with evident pleasure at the sight of a familiar face. At this moment her little boy joined her at the open window. "Mother ! Mother! I'm so frigbteued. What are you ringing the 'iarum bell for ? Oh ! look, there's Leo ! He's got his chain on ! Look !"

And Mrs Spencer did look, and saw their neighbour's dog' who hid been in the habit of coming over to their house for bones and scraps which Mrs Spencer always saved for him. Latterly, ho hud grown so troublesome, that his master had procured a long, rather thick chain, and fastened him up. Presently, across the paddock came the owner. He had found the dog had disappeared with his chain, when, the bell rousing hitn, he had gone to look for his retriever.

By this time, and somewhat ashamed of herself, Mrs Spencer had donned some garments, and explained to Mr Jenkins how dreadfully she had been frightened.

" Well, really, I hardly wander at it," said her neighbour. It would be enough to scare anyone to wake up and hear all that row going on. But come along up to our place ; we've plenty of room, and Mrs Jenkins was dressing when I left. You'll never sleep here after this."

Mrs Spencer thankfully accepted his hospitality, and speedily prepared her little boy and herself for quitting their haunted house. A good many noighboure had now arrived, and there was some laughing when the cause of the disturbance was explained to them. Some of them had come armed, prepared to napture the noted escapees.

"Well!" said Jack, condescendingly, " you have spun a pretty long story out of nothing. That in itself is very creditable. But just look at the clock ; we can have no more to-night, anyway. Let's have supper! "