Time Changes All

Auckland Star, Volume LXIX, Issue 139, 15 June 1938, Page 26

Time Changes All

(By Keith Sinclair. 33, Johnstone Street, Point Chevalier.) "There's the postman, Fred,"' said little Mrs. Yates, working busily at her stitching' by the front window. "Go and Bee what he's brought." Her 10-year-old son, who lay sprawled out on the mat reading a much be-thumbed book, climbed slowly to his feet and went out, grumbling all the while. "What's the use? It will only be another bill." A moment later he bounded up the steps and rushed into the front room. "Mother," he shouted, "it's for me — from Uncle Bill, and lie says that if I come top of my form this term Ir/il give me a job iu his busings." Fred Yates lived with liis mother in a little seaside cottage, and liis one ambition at the time was to leave 'he grammar school which he attended ami help to support his mother. Mrs. Yates depended upon sewing for her richer neighbours for a living, and used to smile affectionately as Fred poured all his plans into her"e<..=. "Oh, Fred," she said laughingly, "that's all you think about, leaving school, when you should be thankful to fetay there while you're able. You'll have plenty of time to look after me when I can't—but you probablv won't come top again, so it"'s no use mv worrying." 'Xo, that snob Seacombe alwavs does growled Fred. "Gosh! 1 wish I could do my lessons as easily as he does," and Jie returned to his book. In an imposing looking residence set amidst rolling lawns and flowerinsnrubs in the outer suburb of the sin>» town in which Fred lived was to be found young Oakley Seacombe. At the same time as Fred received his letter Oakley was roller skating on the broad concrete path that led up to the front door. His arms waved in all directions, his feet slid sideways, and altogether he presented a rather ridiculous figure. Then up to the strong iron gate" and along the smooth path rolled a luxurious car, which stopped a few yards awav from the boy. Then a chauffeur stepped out to open the door, and an old whitehaired aristocratic looking "entleman walked up to Oakley. " c "Haven't you learned to skate pro perlv yet, Oakley?" he inquired. "So, uncle, I can't get the hang of it at all," he answered respectfully. "Well, I gave them to you more than two months ago, you know. When 1 was a boy, I'd have been cutting figures of eight by now. Goodness! boy, you spend all your time reading, when you should be taking some healthy exercise." "I—" began Oakley. "Wait—" interrupted his uncle, "how'd you like a trip to Fiji next holidays?" "Gosh! Gee! Thanks—but. but what do I have to do. uncle?" he ended doubt - fullv.

"W in your hundred yards in the next sports. \ou go in for sports, don't vou?" "Yes. unt-lt'."' said Oakley, "but I haven't a chance. That chap Yates always beats me."' The year rolled on. and s'>on it was prize-giving time once again. Yates was sitting with hits mother in a back row in the big hall, clapping and cheering with the rest. In the very front row sat Oakley Seaeombe. surrounded bv relatives, and with his uncle beside him.' "It's my form next," he whispered to the hitter, and then, with a self-con-scious feeling at having to parade before so many eyes. Oakley turned to the head. "Hicrhest aggregate. O. B. Sea combe."' tliix personage droned on. "top in English. O. B. Seaeombe. Top in ." "Ugh!"' grunted a bov in the back row. "Look at the swot." L Why, 1-red. he hwiks rather a nice fey »i sure." said the lady beside ljim. th » master's voice droned on. —cheerfully, "Lady

Then did the boys shout their loudest and clap until their iKinds were svi'e. atheir favourites received cup aiul medal for prowess in the field of sport. And not the least of these was a certain F. I\. Yates, for three times did he walk through the long lanes of staring people, with shining eyes and b'u-liing cheek-, and s 0 c> >i t 0 the platform. In the front row a boy remarked: "Ugh!" After the prize-giving was over, the two boys went their different ways, each jealous, of the other's g < **1 fortune. As slow ly bill »nre!y a- that year had rolled on. <-o did tun. three. In and. at ia-t. vears. flow things had change-; during i hat »!i..rt t changed ::id I. for now » e (in.l Kr<-.! Votes weaitliy. prosperous bu-ine-s. man. with a run;.! ,; gure (far to., round for ."."•i. and surrounded with riches and a happy family. His lit inie i~ now a. Veritable man-;.. 11 how dili'erent from the cottage of hiboyhood. and we now !ind him playing cards in the smoking room and listen ing to the iMtiio. "Don't forget. folks." the announcer was saying, "tune in to thi- station nine-thirty to-night. when we will hear Oakley Seacombe give a la-t Inoatle:!-! before lie de.-erts the field of sp >rt entirely. From that time. 12 years ago. when this promising young man won the Xew Zealand mile-breaking record. until two years ago. when he won the Olympi ■ mile for the third time. Oakley has a sectfre place in the hearts of all »portmiiuled Xew Zealanders. And to-night I feel that we are losing the greatest, athlete ever known in this country. X->\\ don't forget, mothers, fathers, boys ami girls, everybody—listen in to-night t" station KC for our special relay. Our regular programme will now be . . I u<ed to know Seacombe well, v hi know," said Mr. Yates to his friend: went to school with him. He was in i:iv lorm, too. Creat chap, used to be very i level at bis li'<-nni, couldn't run for eheese then. I could leave him standing at any distance. Kunnv how thiims have changed." 1 'You mean that y.. u could beat Oakley Seacombe." ,a id his friend " V '; ; "'her. T used to <n\\ him his 1,1-anis. "Sfunnv. v..u know """'he turning on, like this, a'nd" me ing my way with my brains.' Oakley Seacombe was li-tcnim- to radio, too. or living t o. |{ ( . "• his room (pall of the be-, suit... i,' the Kings Hotel) and looked in a temper, "(ant you fellows leave alone for live minutes." ] I( , s it hl to - eager young reporter. "I can't even li-l'm l,> . the radio or have any privacv.". I beg, n the reporter. 'Yes. I know.' said Oaklev. "the .- oa . sons for my retirement. Well f .. n . them to the Press about a week a " Hut, sir, said the persistent one. . " <; °od afternoon!" said Oaklev. turning the wireless a shade louder \ moment alter the reporter had left the door opened and a lady entered. "Go oil!" began Oakley inutile, then stopping as he saw it was his wife. "Oh. hello Mary! Come and sit down. ] thought you were another reporter. Those fellows won't leave me alone for a minute."

"Well, it will be all over after tonight. dear." said his wife. "I hope so." said Oakley, and sat down aga in to the radio. "Station K.C. called the announcer. "We now present quarter of an hour's recordings, by courtesy of the Yates Importing and K.\ porting Company. Limited. The first number is . . "What are you thinking about. Oaklev': said his wife, looking up from her hook, ami seeing th-> far-awav look in iiw c\e<. "•lust thinking how things have ■hanged.' he said. "I used to go to -chonl with that chap Yates, and 1 used t'» envy hint for at sports, while the only thing I could do then was lesions. \, x he won his fortune through his brains (he u-cd t. > be an awful dunderhead then), and I with the very thing 1 never expected 1 could do." "Yes: tilings have changed all right." said his wife. "Why. i remember . . ." Yes. I think you'll agree that things had changed. But all things change r with time.