THE MAGIC RING.

Auckland Star, Volume LXI, Issue 229, 27 September 1930, Page 2 (Supplement)

THE MAGIC RING.

(Winning story by Roseanne Lovell, 1, Mount llobson Street, Kemuera.) The happy little crowd of girls were in a great iiurry; but not in too great a hurry to lean over the gate at the end of the lane and have another peep at the new red brick house, with* its fluttering curtains and shutters of bright "Teen, l'or months they had wondered tvliat the young mistress of the house would be like, and to-day they were to know, for Moses Goldstein, the owner of the home, was bringing his, young bride home. _ At the sound of a shrill whistle in the distance the girls, picked up their baskets full of scented petals and retraced their steps along the dusty while road to the station. They formed a charming picture standing on the platform in their lloweisprigged muslins, and large picture hats. Picture hats that could not hide then laughing lips and bright expectant eyes. But the petals they had held in their hands to throw at their old play-fellow's bride, never left their soft- farm palms .... for Moses Goldstein stepped from the train alone. All this happened over sixty years ago and now Moses is an old, old man. Of late years the neighbours sadly shgok their heads when they spoke'of old Moses whose memory had failed him. He still patiently awaited tjie coming of his little bride. Summer and winter the gardens werea mass of blooms, and the red brick house now dark and weather-stained, frowned darkly down at the surrounding brightness. The % children of the village loved old Moses, illJ d their grandmothers, members of the gay little band of welcomers, had told them the story, and it liau become a loved legend among them. Every year for the .hiniversary of his home-coming Moses used to place something new in his garden to lure her back to him.' The children knew the date of the anniversary and every year would come and peep through the gate to sec what new attraction the wonderful old garden held. One year it was a rose tree. Another a sun dial. A rustic seat appeared in a shady nook, and a snow white alabaster dove poised for flight, was placed on the edge of the garden steps. And now it was the day before the anniversary and the childreri had arranged to pass that way on tne morrow, so they could have a peep. They were very cimous, for Moses' famiiiar figure in red velvet jacket and tight-fitting black smoke cap, had not been seen in the garden for nearly a month. Early the next morning , a group ol children looked through the old garden gate, but after a few minutes they had to admit that they could see nothing new. Then little Esphir clapped' her hands and cried excitcdly. "Oh! look there is something in the little dip. at the side of the house." The children looked again, And yes they could see the top. of something green and something brown, The gate flew inward and they raced along _ the path and looked into the dip at the side of the house. There in a circle were six,large mushrooms carved from wood and painted brown. On one side sat two little brown rabbits .with their ears sticking upright and their little bright eyes looking into the circle. And oh! what was that_ sitting on one of the mushrooms —a little sprite in a little green suit. That evening Moses looked out of his window down onto the 1110011-flccked lawn, where his shadowy wooden figures formed the magic ring. Then he turned quickly from the window and hurried out into the garden. He had seen something white moving in his ring and he wanted to see what it was. At the top of the garden steps he paused. Yes, it was, it was his little bride. There he saw her as he had seen her a thousand times in his garden—a slim, white, elusive figure standing on the grass and looking down at his quaint carvings. * Eagerly lie walked to the enchanted sjiot and, as he called slowly and clearly "Rebecca" the vision tufffed and faced him. "Oh! I'm so sovry Mr. Goldstein, but my tennis ball came o-ver the wall this afternoon, and I'm plaving a match to-morrow, so J thought I'd try to find it. Aren't these figures quaint, I just adore them." • And Moses recognised the elieekv reckled face, of his neighbour's daughter, Billy, elad in tennis frock of white silk. v Slowly he retraced his steps, and the distance between the garden steps,, and the fiont door had never seemed quite so long to Moses.

For fourteen years he lived among those terrible "wrongs." He would often lean against the railings of the ship and ponder ttpon his real life—the life which should have been his—not this terrible, life of murder, blood-stained deeks, filth, and long finger nails—but life like that or many of the Chinese boys about whom he had read in the books which the old pirate chief had given him. Then one day old Wall Lee Wong was ill—terribly ill He called Ah Wong to him, and told him of his capture when a baby. "I want you," said Wah Lee Wong, "to go back again to England. I have taught you enough English to 'get you along in the world/ as. you English say. Go to that little green idol and take the diamond brooch froth it. It -is youis. Ih a few minutes Ah Wong returned, • ready for his departure. " Take one of the boats, laddie, and you'll be all right. Farewall, eon of England, for ever." Ho (Ah Wong) jumped into the boat ; and rowed ashore, but as he was settingoff up the hill there was a terrific explosion—earth, water, and sky all seemed to be mingled in a burst of flame. What had-happened? Nobody knew. Whether Wall Lee Wong had blown up the ship out of sheer malice, or whether lie did it because he missed Ah Wong so very much was.known only to the soul which entered either heaven—or the other placel But gone was the filth, gone the murder, gone the jabbering pirates always quarrelling for more money, gone the "long finger nails, which always seemed to be longing to scratch out somebody's eyes. Ugh! How he'd hated those pirates, and°he was free! free! free! Free to go to England and find out who he really was. " Anvway," he said aloud, " I'm going to steer clear of the old devils after this." v " Bef pardon," said a voice on the other side of the hedge. "Where are you bound for, youny urelrtn? Were you speaking to me? If so, please don't call me a devil. It's not a healthy name for an Englishman." 11 With these words a little dapper gentleman poked his head over the fence and stared rather -rudely at Ah Wong. The hitter poured forth his story into the sympathising ears of his new-found friend. Within a month he ♦ d the little dapper Englishman reached London, and, after a long search discovered Ah Wong's relatives.