RED EYES, GREEN EYES, AND BLUE.

Auckland Star, Volume LIX, Issue 267, 10 November 1928, Page 21 (Supplement)

RED EYES, GREEN EYES, AND BLUE.

(By EDEN C001IBES.)

Rex Banny threw a quince among- the glowing embers, watched its skin browning, then turned to the boys sitting near, their faces crimson, under the red light from the fire. They, too, were roasting quinces. "Being new chums here, I don't suppose you've heard the yarns about this place, - ' he said. "No," answered the bigger boy. "Have you, Colin?" "No," came the reply from the younger lad. -Tell us about it, Rex." "Half a jiffy." Rex rescued a blackskinned quince, " skinned it with his pocket-knife, and waited until it had cooled a little before he attempted to eat it. "Biff in a couple more quinces, Jolly. Now—this story begins twenty years ago. That is, we'll have to imagine ourselves back twenty years. It belonged to an old chap named Paddy Uoolan; in case you can't tell by his name, he was real Irish. Lived here for ages with his dog Barney, and he used to earn enough to keep them both as. a cattle drover. They were great pals—Paddy and his dog. He had'a pet lamb that grew into a sheep and died of old age. Paddy used to shear him himself, and sold the wool to the man who gave him the lamb. And besides Barney and the lamb there were half-a-dozen tortoiseshell cats. Real beauties. When anyone wanted a cat Paddy let them choose one, but there are still some left. Hum went to the barn, and got a pretty one the other day." Rex pointed into the gloom, where the dark outline of the old shed could be seen against the sky. * "What happened to Paddy?" asked Jolly. . "I'm coming to that," replied Rex. "He died in his sleep, Paddy did. After he was buried his ghost'came to haunt the place. When his master died, poor old Barney used to lie on the steps where Paddy often sat to smoke his pipe. The neighbours were very kind. They fed the dog, but he just put his head on his paws and looked up —sometimes he howled. They reckon he had wonderful eyes, that looked so intelligent—liquid brown—and sad. The people were mighty fond of Barney. The old man and his dog both haunt the place now, especially the barn. Lots of people have been past the barn, and up in the loft they can sea his eyes.. Some say they're red, others reckon they're green, while the rest declare they're- blue." "Gee!" said Jolly. "Where'd Paddy ] live r "Here," answered Rex. "This is the fireplace where we've got our fire. This was where his kitchen stood. In a room back there he used to sleep. Barney slept on a mat near the door. 3 "Creak—ctw—eeak," went the barndoor. "Wha'ssat?" gasped Colin. "Nothin'," growled Jolly,, rescuing another well-cooked quince from the embers. "Were the cats ever afraid of the ghost, Res?" "No. Paddy and his dog did them no harm. They're not afraid," answered Rex. "But I haven't finished the yarn yet. A little while after the death of Barney the- house was burnt to the ground. Some think it was done on purpose by boys who wanted to see the blaze, others believe a tramp camped here for the night and. dropped, a lighted match. Only the fireplace remained, and the barn with jthe cats in it were left, too, quite safe." ■».-'-' "Creak—eek," went '• the barn-door again. Then "Trip-trap-trip-trap." "Listen!" whispered Rex. "It must be Barney's ghost walking on an empty coffin—" "There's no quinces left. Shall we go ?" suggested Colin, picking up the bag in which he.had brought the quinces from their orchard. "This bag's empty." "We're coming," said Jolly, "now, at once." Gingerly they made their way up the path. "We're nearly to the barn," said Jolly. "Bet you're windy to look in, Rex." "Bet I'm not," retorted Rex. "You ! are." "I'm not! Colin is, though," answered Jolly. "Oh, am I? Righto, then—we'll all look in." They hesitated outside the door; Creak-eeak! "What is it? It's very near," said Colin, in a tense whisper. "Shuddup! It's. nothing," answered Rex, and he pushed the door open. "Is that a figure up there?" asked Colin, pointing. "No—it's a hole in the roof with the sky looking through," said Rex. "Look —look!" Jolly pointed dramatically to the right, where, from the trapdoor that led to the loft, two eyes gleamed at them. "Red eyes!" gasped Jolly. "Green," corrected Colin. "They're—blue," whispered Rex. "Aaa—aaaaaa," came a hollow, haunting call from the gloom. Petrified for a moment, the boys listened. "Croa-ea-eek!" came again. "It is something," said Colin. "Aaaa—aaa! Trip-trap-trip-trap!" Colin took fright first. He turned and simply fled away, as fast as his capable legs would go. That broke the spell. Jolly and Rex followed. On reaching the road the boys found their "courage" returning. "It's a good job there were no girls here."- said Rex. "They'd have been frightened." "Yes," agreed Colin, "and—and mum's the word." Had they waited a while they'd have seen aa owl fly through the loft window, calling "Morepork! Morepork!" and heard an answering "Slorepork!" from the bush nearby. With a bleat that echoed through the barn. "Aaaaa-aa," a lamb trip-trapped out the door to join its mother in the shadow of the trees; while a bright-eyed cat curled herself in some hay with her gincrer kittens. "Creak-eak! Cree-eak!" went the barn door.