IN A GLASS DARKLY

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 45, 23 February 1937, Page 17

IN A GLASS DARKLY

MR. BUNNY presided over the counter of his shop like a benevolent Buddha, pink, emiling and bespectacled. He gave no indication of the dislike he was beginning to feel for the tireeome young man who had been trailing around for the paet half-hour, poking into every dark corner and making sarcaetic references to the articles displayed for sale. "Most of the stuff you've got here," said the knowing one, waving hie hand, "is junk." "I expect so," replied Mr. Bunny mildly. "You're one of the shrewd ones, air, if I may say so. It'd be useless for - me to pretend—with you. But that ain't to say as I don't get some wonderful bargains at times." "Oh yeah! Well, you'll never sell this stuff, take it from me." "It has accumulated, sir," Mr. Bunny acknowledged sadly. "It's a wonder to me you've managed to survive in these days, of competition. Out in the States you'd be on the street in a week. Gosh, it just beats me how you live." "I have my ups and downs, sir. I've been here 50 years, and etill do fairly well, you know. Being close to the river, as you might say, I get all sorts of queer callers, aiixious to dispose of really wonderful stuff at almost any price." "Guess that must be it," responded the other, and then gasped. Standing motionless beside him •/as a tall, dignified figure in bright, flowing robes and wearing a turban.

"Why, it's Sharawan Guzra," fussed the shopkeeper, leaning across the counter. There was a deference in his manner that aroused the contempt of the younjr customer. The absurdity of being polite to a nigger! "Mr. Bunny," said the Indian, '"I come to bid farewell. I return almost immediately to Benares. It is necessary that i bathe in the waters of old Ganges before I join my respected forefathers." The man spoke in the clipped, careful tones of the educated Hindu. He mentioned his approaching demise with indifference, as if it signified little. Mr. Bunny was shocked. "I "had no 'idea you were ill, Mr. Guzra. Are you sure? I mean —Dear me, this is most distressing." "Thank you, Air. Bunny, but I am in perfect health. I have been foolish, or perhaps wise—who can tell? I gazed into the crystal and saw my fate. It is written. Therefor* Igoto my country; to Benares, to wash in the sacred Ganges before my time comes." "Your crystal, Mr. Guzra! I don't —" been with my family for many ages. In I see the future. I have done so—for others —sometimes; but not often, and never for money. "The crystal may not be sold, so I have brought it to you, who have been kind to me, as a gift. No more remain of the family of Guzra, and it is of no further use to me. Here it is, Mr. Bunny. Please to take it—for friendship." "Well, I don't know, really," Mr. Bunny objected weakly. "I've never believed in such things, you know. Yet, it being you, in a manner of speaking, whom I've always respected! Really, it's most kind of you." • • • • Taking the glass ball in his hands he placed it on the counter before him. A email square of shiny material was attached to it, forming a sort of stand. "My kind remembrances to the Miss, if you please," continued the Indian politely. "I must go now." "But —but, Mr. Guzra —what am I to do with the crystal? I know nothing of these things." "It is to see the future, when you are uncertain aa to what course to take, Mr. Bunny. It is always best to look for others, not for yourself—unless the matter is serious. You are an old man, and it is not good to be shocked. I gazed, for myself, and saw—Kismet! I go to Benares." Before Mr. Bunny could say another word, the mysterious Indian was gone. The old man scared at his customer who had not moved during the interview. "Well—that was sudden, if you like. A man I've known and respected for years, goes off like that. Excuse me a moment, sir." Mr. Bunny went to the end of the counter and called. A handsome, dark-eyed - girl entered the shop. "What is it, father?"

"Sharawan Uazra has gone, my dear. Gone for good,*back to his own country. He left me this—as a present. What to do with it I don't know. I'm proper flummoxed, I am, what with everything." "Let's see it," said the girl carelessly, and took the crystal in her hands. "Why, it's one of those silly thingummy's for-tune-tellers use." She stared smilingly into the glass bowl. "I guess Sharawan was pulling your leg, dad." Suddenly the two men saw her stiffen. The smile faded from her face; her fingers grasped the ball convulsively. ''Jerry!" she whispered. "Why—it's Jerry, dad!" "Come, come, Sylvie," her father admonished. He appeared seriously annoyed. "None of that, now! You know very well Jerry's in Australia; we got a letter from him only last week. Tut, tut, child —really." The girl, however, continued to stare, fascinated. "He's not in Australia," she cried, her manner changing abruptly to one of joy. "He's here —in London. I can see him, grinning like anything, stepping out of a number 12 bus. " It's almost c-comic. I can see him, plain, as anything, in the "Here,".saidJier father sternly. "You hand that thing to me. You've got too much imagination, my girl. You've been brooding about your precious Jerry, that's what; and this is the result. I've a Rood mind to break the thing—only it's a present. I always respected Mr Guzra. There was something about n j m »jj r . Bunny turned towards the still waiting cuetomer, and smiled apologetically. "It's all a mass o' nonsense. You tell her so, sir. She won't believe her old dad." n "Probably is nonsense, miss, ne grinned in confirmation. * » • • It was at this point a stalwart, broadshouldered man rolledinto the shop His voice boomed out like a fog-horn as he crreeted Mr. Bunny and his daughter. "Well—how's tricks?" "Jerry Warden!" cried Mr. Bunny unbelievingly. . "Jerry!" echoed his daughter, her eyes alight with gladness. "Thought I was t'other side of the world -fbet," chuckled the rover delightedly. "Reckon I've come as a eurprise, bo Boon after my letter, eh! Pleasant one, I hope!" «l saw it," Sylvia cried. "I aaw it in the glass." . m . .. Mr. Bunny hurried the pair into the house and returned to the counter.

(SHORT STORY.)

—By ]. Arthur Williams

''She'll soon forget all about it," he explained with a knowing wink. "They're plighted, you know." The old-fashioned word amused the younger man, but he did i|ot voice his thoughts as he might have done a while since. "Eγ—l suppose you wouldn't care to sell that crystal? It seems just the thing for entertaining guests at parties. Nothing to it, of course, but you know what the ladies are. And I can tell 'em I saw it brought in by the genuine medicine-nfan himself, eh?" Mr. Bunny shook his head regretfully. "It was a present, sir. I don't see how I could, really." , "I'll pay well for the thing. I'm interested, and when Hiram J. Botts says he's interested, Be means he's wiling to talk turkey. Think it over." Mr. Bunny smiled apologetically. • • • • Hiram J. Botts strolled once more around the shop, but he kept a wary eye on the proprietor. t Presently he saw Mr. Bunny pick up the crystal curiously; saw him stiffen, just as the daughter had done, saw his gaze become fixed. He seemed oblivious to his surroundings; his face was strained and old-looking. '"Say—what'u the mat:er!" demanded Botts. Mr. Bunny pulled himself together and laid the globe aside. "I looked into it," he murmured shakily. "I—l saw things. Mr. Guzra should not have given it to me." "He warned you not to look, you know," cried Botts excitedly. '"Say— what about doin' a trade, now ?" "I don't know as it'd be right," mumbled Air. Bunny. He still seemed dazed. "Perhape I'd better talk it over with the young folk. Yes, I think—" Botts saw his only chance fading away. He drew out a bulging wallet. "Twenty pounds," he barked, but Mr. Bunny only blinked. "Maybe if I sell it the virtues will go out of the thing," he pointed out conscientiously. Botts merely grunted. "Thirty pounds," he said, and Mr. Bunny, sorely troubled, agreed. When he had seen his customer safely out of the premises he hastened to join his daughter and Jerry Warden. They glanced at him inquiringly. "Thirty quid," he nodded emilingly. '•That's "the highest we've touched yet for one of those crystals." He went over to Jerry and peered at him closely. "I know it's a quick-change act for you, my boy," he softly chided; next time you wash off that Indian make-up, do it thoroughly. I don't want my prospective son-in-law to return unexpectedly from Australia with mahogany-coloured ears.' .