Short Story.

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 696, 6 October 1909, Page 7

Short Story.

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.] AND THE PHONOGRAPH. By Susie Bouchelle Wight. The building operations of an eligible bachelor are always watched with interest, but an unusual degree of it centered abou«t the growth of Oleander Terrace. Just in the centre was a brown bungalow of sumptuous appointments, which it was understood, was to be occupied by Prindible himself, with his retinue of three silent, well-trained Japanese servants. On either side was a tempting gambrel roofed cottage in the midst of a wide stretch of lawn, and then came three flat buildings outside of these, of two apartments each. When "For Rent" signs blossomed ou< in the new windows, local interest deepened into excitement that was tempered by conjecture as to the restrictions which would attend the occupancy of the most desirable renting property in the city—beautiful houses fronting on to a park.

"Of course, children will be debared!" sighed the mother of six, looking discontentedly about at the dingy environment which seemed the onlv shelter for her brood.

"I dare say he will object to dogs. Ftuffikins I" fretted the owner of a

small puff ball of white down that tu*rged at the end of a blue ribbon as they walked past the new houses. "Of course he will, and he'll net have sense enough to know that there are dogs and dogs." There were restrictions, but neither children nor domestic animals were mentioned. Mr. Prindible's agent was instructed simply to sign nothing shorter than three-year leases and to stipulate that no phonograph was to be brought into the new houses under penalty of an immediate forfeiture of the lease. In a short while Oleander

Terrace was. well populated. There were children and dogs by the dozen, and Mr. Prindible from the front verandah of **"e bungalow watched benevolently over their play and their squabbles. In the flat building just far enough removed to take the keen edge off the sound, a young lady practised "Dearie" by the hour. A member of the Fourth Regiment band reviewed the fragmentary parts of orchestral music that his own cornet was supposed to be responsible for. and amid the thrumming of several pianos was one which unmistakably was undergoing the tender mercies of successive beginners. Still Mr. Prindible found life well worth living, and confided to himself that he was an exceedingly clever fellow tp make a good investment of some surplus cash and rid himself of a pet nuisance at one and the same time. In the cottage next door lived the Widow Winder and her very capable looking young son, Thomas. The two interested their landlord from the first. The gray-eyed sturdy lad reminded him of the hoy he once had been, and it seemed to Mr. Prindible that he never before had seen a woman who so Suggested daintiness and sweetness, from the crispy light hair that crinkled over her forehead, to the tips of the little shoes that he caught glimpses of as. with slightly lifted skirt, she tripped across the grass to Thomas' play tent, which he had pitched under M. Prindible's den windows. Tidv. alluring, sunny, spirited—she was all of these, all day long, whether sweeping her porch in cap and apron early in the morning, taking leave of callers there in the afternoon, all in a flutter of lilac and white, or sitting by her open windows of evenings in diaphanous black and silver. Mr. Prindible knew, because Mr. Prindible had made it his business to watch and see, an employment which soon offered great- -' er attractions than the open book lying on his knee, or the piled-up magazines on the table at his elbow. He was not deceived in the least —he knew where he was drifting, and he cultivated Thomas' acquaintance in a tentative effort to draw near the mother in a casual matter-of-fact way. He was quite aware of a reserved attitude on her part, and he approved of it. for Oleander Terrace was not exempt from gossip. So he refrained from going boldly over to pay his addresses even after his mind was well made up that the Japanese servants needed a mistress. He contented himself instead with such exchange of glances and smiles as were appropiate while he initiated Thomas into various mechanical experiments and helped to put together the things that Thomas tore to pieces in his insatiate curiosity to see "wheels go round." All this was pleasant enough for a while, but it bade fair to go on indefinitely, for the Widow Winder infused no more of intimate meaning in her smiles as months went by and she had the same little ways of always effacing herself pretty soon after Mr. Prindible appeared on the scene. "I like dis-

cretion," grumbled he to himself, one evening, "but there is such a thing as overdoing it," and he scolded Kotzu> because his coffee was cold, never once remembering how long he had dawdled over it while making up his mind to appear open and above board as Mrs. Winder's suitor, by going over for a formal call. Presently he stiffened in his chair. A new element had interjected itself into the sounds of Oleander Terrace, and the cheapest of small phonographs was whining out "The Preacher and the Bear." He listened with crimsoning face and Kotzu, in the butler's pantry, smiled inscrutably. The November evening in Florida was mild enough for the windows to be still open, and it was not hard to place the tabooed sound as coming- from the widow's parlor. Once, twice, three times. Mr. Prindible had to submit to "The Preacher and the Bear." and it was beginning again, when he lowered his windows with a bang. "When that stops. I'll have to go oyer and see her." he thought, and picked up a magazine not quite conscious perhaps that this annoyance had something like relief in it, since it furnished a sort of excuse. Orderly habits of mind recalled to him the fact that he had an agent to relieve him of XI unpleasantness of being a prr.pertv owner, but he temporised with the thought. "I will Investigate first." said he to himself, "and send Gramlicg later if it should become necessary." Again "The Preacher and the Bear forced itself into the elegant seclusion of the den. and this time it sounded nearer. "I reallv cannot wait! he rxdafmed. "I believe thev will play that thing all the nicht! 11l po— if onlv to tell her mv opinion of anv person whose taste will allow—" "Mrs. Winder to see you," interrup-

ted Kotzu softly and through the open doors into the drawing room he saw the widow standing slender, graceful, but ill at ease, waiting for him. "I came to explain about the phonoraph," she said hurriedly, as he begged her to be seated. "I am morI tified—l am— it is Tommy's, you see!. He swapped his white rabbits with another boy for it and I can't reason with him nor appeal in any way to make him give it up. He is perfectly fascinated." "He does seem partial to "The Preacher and the Bear" commented Mr. Prindible affably. He had intended suggesting that she use her parental authority, but her hands were trembling, her chin too, and he remembered the square jaws of Thomas, and he was reminded again of the boy he once had been. "That's the awful part of it!" she cried. "He only has that one record, and he'll play all night and day until something happens to it. When I reproved him. he took the phonograph out into his tent, and I have no idea how long he can keep it up; the boys were gathering there when I came past." Several things that he might say occurred to Mr. Prindible. He ought to remind her of the conditions of her lease, he might suggest that Thomas be dealt with, or he could say that Gramling would discu'ss the matter with her, but all the while there was a running accompaniment of "Good Old Bear! Please. Mr. Bear," and it so confused him that he said nothing at all.

"Of course, I cannot expect you to overlook it!" she resumed dejectedly. "I only wanted to explain. lam so sorry, for we felt so nicely settled; it has been so pleasant." "Oh my dear Mrs. Winder!" he interrupted. "I am not utterly unreasonable ! Don't feel that you must vacate to-morrow! Under the conditions, of course," he hesitated, "but I think Thomas will not insist." "You don't know him," she said tersely. "I used to know a boy very much like him. and I think I can manage Thomas if you leave the matter entirely with me." His voice and manner were very gentle, bu* she looked at him suspiciously. "I couldn't do that, youi know," she replied. "He is all I have," and her lip quivered. Mr. Prindible offered her his arm. "Let me take you home now," he said softly, "and don't you fret. Suppose we stop at the tent door for a moment."

She loked at him in surprise, bit her lip. blushed, and looked away. The Widow Winder did not make the re mark about his aversion to phonographs that occurred to her. The fringe of boys about the tent parted silently for them. A little, old, battered phonograph with a horn about the circumferenc of a saucer rested on an empty. soap box, and Thomas, lying on the flat of his stomach, alternately listened and raised his head to watch the movements of the machinery, too enraptured to care for the audience behind him. They watched him play the record two or three times, and Mr. Prindible did not flinch, although the sound was as rasping and metallic as sound could well be. for the widow's hand rested lightly on his arm. and the gauze scarf over her head blew softly now and then against his cheek. He felt a proprietary interest in her troubles and in Tommy, and as they turned away, he remarked that • it almost made one young again to see such thorough enjoyment. 'I will see Thomas in the morning," hj said as they paused at her door. "Perhaps I can trade him out of it. 1 can manage him." "Don't vou think it!" she warned.

"Well, don't you worry," he begged, and lifting his hat he turned away, with another reflection about too much discretion. The widow had not invited him in.

The phonograph kept up its sound until very late, and was going again before breakfast. Mr. Prindible sought the tent as soon as he could dress, and found Thomas analyzing his new treasure, the pieces laid in orderly manner on the soap box. He glanced defiantly at his landlord, who tried to look very parental and friendly as he stood there with his hands in his pockets. "We're going to move," announced the boy. "Really? I'm awfully sorry. Why?" "You know why." Thomas evidently intended having no foolishness over the matter, so Mr. Prindible met him half way. "What'll you take for it?" he asked. "Five dollars —but I'll use it to buy another one a fellow has. This hasn't but one record '—Mr. Prindible interrupted to say that he was aware of that fact, but Thomas went on unheeding, "and this thing is so darned old-timey that I can't get new records for it. even if mother would give me the money; she says she won't." Thomas slowly dosed one eye and looked up at Mr. Prindible. "I believe it would be a good trade to buy this, and let you get the other fellow's phonograph; but say, how many records has it?"

"Oh, lots! There are three laughing coon songs and some brand pieces —The Turkey and the Straw, Ticklish Reuben—" "Preacher and the Bear?" "You bet!" Mr. Prindible groaned in spirit.

"I couldn't do it, Thomas, I really couldn't! Why everyone in the block could have phonographs if I allowed one here. Be reasonable, now. I hate to lose your mother for a neighbour; say. we'll go down town after breakfast and look things over. I think you'll be able to find something there that you'd rather have than a phonograph " "I know I won't thou'gh!" said Thomas, and he didn't. They made a tour of the toy stores, the gun shops and the bicycle places. Nothing interested Thomas except a great big talking machine, with a dog in front of it, with one ear cocked knowingly. Tommv informed Mr. Prindible that this dojr had electric lights in his eyes, and that if he would bring him down again to-night, he could see 'em wink.

'Suppose I buy you the dog. then," Mr. Prindible insinuated, but Thomas turned coldly away, and the two went thoughtfully home, where Thomas immediatelv turned on "The Preacher and the Bear." and Mr. Prindible fidgetted uneasily at sight of the widow taking down the curtains from her parlor windows. Presently, he strode across the grass and went boldly into her front door. Without preliminaries he plunged into a proposal, and somehow possessed himself of her little trembling hands. "But —Thomas and the phonograph !" she faltered. "Do you know.' 'he said cheerfully. "I find that I have learned to like a real jrood phonograph. I shall buy the one in Holley's window, winking dog and all. and trade Thomas out of "The Preacher and the Bear!" He shall have all the records he wants." "But —the lease conditions ! What will the neighbours say?"

"Dearest, what can the neighbours say ? Surely I may have a phonograph in mvown house if 1 want it, and you' and Thomas will be there, I hope after to-day."

"To-day!" "To-day!" he repeated, and there was something in his grey eyes so much like the same thing she had encountered in her son's that she capitulated.

"It will be so good to have you help me manage Thomas," she breathed, "and the neighbours can't say you didn't keep your word about turning people out that had phonographs." And the fu<nny part of it all is that Mr. Prindle has come to so realize the posibilities for enjoyment in a phonograph that he has removed all the restrictions which he formerly imposed.