ON HER MAJESTY'S SERVICE.

Dominion, Volume 1, Issue 20, 18 October 1907, Page 10

ON HER MAJESTY'S SERVICE.

Old John Morgan and his wife were people of some repute in tho village. The repute was not due to social position, for social position was not ft factor in the life of the community; nor yot was it due to the fact that John Morgan's croft and dwelling-house were somewhat more pretentious than those of his neighbours; it was dno to the striking originality of John Morgan's personality and character, and to that only. It is true that John Morgan's wife shared her husband's distinction, but that was because she was John Alorgan's wife—a qiiiet, motherly little woman, she reflected John Morgan's greatness as the moon reflects the rays' of the sun, by' doing nothing but passively allowing' King Sol to shine upon her. Mrs.' Morgan's passivity, however, did not linve the effect of causing her to be a nonentity in'tho Morgan entity—not at. all; she was the means'of completing it, and John Morgan without his wife would have been like Punch'without his hump, only half a personality.. .Jolin Morgan, was energy personified. His work was performed with all the vigour of a stripling in his twenties; and in all matters affecting tho public weal, concerning which men debato with the freedom of irresponsibility, his voice was continually heard. It was his unfailing power of silencing an opponent that made him so formidable an antagonist in the village Witenagemot, and the ferocious, impatient expression of his smooth ruddy countenance, fenced in as it was by a short curly white beard, brought more than one well-in-formed debater to a stammering conclusion in a much more effectual manner than a calmly reasoned exposition from a more authoritative source could possibly have done. It sometimes happened that a scrupulously fair-minded opponent, with laboured utterance and remonstrating manner, sought to hold him- tightly to tho point at issue, but the futility of the effort was only equalled by the thankless reception it received at the hands of a jeering audience rendered partial by long usage; and the invariable result was that the' bewildered opponent had to retire in aggrieved disgust from tho unequal conflict, to re-appear on some future occasion an interested spectator of the very drama in which lie had played so sorry a part. . , ' There was somewhat of a malicious genius in the man who had caused it at one time to be whispered abroad that John Morgan was unable to read, that to liini the writing of an epistle was an unknown art, and that the weekly newspaper which came to him addressed to "John Morgan, Esquire," was, so far as his ability to peruse it was concerned, simply a mass of inky meaningless marks; and further-, more, that it was due to the scholarly attainments of his little grandchild of twelve that he was able to glean from the print the wiscellany of broken facts upon which he founded his arguments. Only a genius could have conceived so' preposterous a notion, and_ one so much at' varianco with the opinion universally entortaincil concerning John Morgan and his attainments. Head plain English! now had it been Latin—and with roference to the malicious rumour, he had been heard to suggest, merely to suggest or to -hint vaguely, that, as he himsolf expressed it, "ho might be able totake bite out of tho Latin too." There was no denying the fact, however, that great as was the curiosity to hear him read, actually to observe him spell out and repeat the news, word for word as set down in tho papor, no one had ever, so far as was known, been able" to observe him accomplish the feat. There was a tale told of him—and his detractors made, of it what could be made—that one day as he sat with the newspaper ostentatiously spread out in front of him, a near neighboui' of an inquisitive turn, of mind desired to be told the news of the day. It was known to the interrogator that the alleged assistant of tender years was absent, and there was that in his eye which seempd to indicate a malicious expectancy. For the' moment John Morgan was nonplussed, but quickly recovering himself, he lay back in his chair, and in a tone in which sympathy for the untoward events was blended with a restrained satisfaction at being able to recite the tale of them, replied, "Oh, wrecks, George, shipwrecks ori all hands; it's pcetiful, it's •pcetiful." The print which his eyes were devouring with so much avidity, anil from which he professedly was gleaning the . 'distressing intelligence, was held by him upside down; and consequently the pictorial representations of steamers and sail-ing-ships, by means of which, enterprising shinping companes are wont to attract tho public attention, were naturally upside down as well, and the worthy man's conclusion was obvious. A ship ; represented upside down assuredly meant a ship wrecked, whatever the printed matter might say to tho contrary. Such was (the - tale; but John Morgan went, on Jus way unnoticing; anil left to-his many believers what task of actual /verbal refutation might be necessary. "•

It was a matter for regretful reflection to jolin Morgan and his wife that they had been but meagrely blessed in Jthe matter of a family. There had been" born to them a soil'arid daughter, but the daughter had passed from, them even at the age when her presence had ■become a necessity to the old people, and although years had sped since then it was known that tho mother had never ceased bitterly to mourn her loss: in secret, it-is true, for with all tho energy of his energetic nature John Morgan had fought against his grief; .lie would drive it away from him and from others too. To sorrow was useless, lie roared in wrathful grief, reasoning with the unconvincing'logii of blurred common-sense: it was worse than useless, it was vain, it was—all, God ! and then he too broke down. .

The boy had gone into the army. Some pooplo said that the stop was a necessity of his failure in the more conventional walks of life, but that could scarcely be, seeing that John Morgan himself was at the time daily impressing people with the fact that, had he been allowed to choose his career as a boy, the trade of arms .would have been his choice : that was a career for a man of mettle and what other. But Mis. Morgan over her knittingneedles must needs again weep, more and more 'silently and more and more secretly it is true;,for along-with the energy and bustle and movement which characterised her lord and master, in what from her point of viow almost seemed a second bereavement, there was noticeable a faint irritability, as of a tired man striving to show that lie is far from being tired. It was faintly noticeable, but it was there, and it did more to make Mrs. Morgan cease to mourn than all tho blowings and blusterings of reasoned wrathful sermons which her husband could inflict upon her in a month. For the little woman had a great silent love and resptet for this fresh blustering spouse of hers, and as for John Morgan, it was known through'the village how his reason almost left him for two dreary nights during which the doctor held it not improbable that his wife would pass from him. It was only in the fitness of things that; the political horizon became overcast and the war-cloud did at last burst, the village should wait with a complacent curiosity to hear what John Morgan had to say before making up it* mind definitely on the issues involved in tho conflict; and while the nightly little crowd assembled at the post-office dogmatised considerably concerning each fresh piece of news, there was always left open a loophole for escape, or rather retreat, should the position to be taken up by John Morgan when he appeared make a recantation necessary. The post-office, pending the arrival of the evening mail, was the village St. Stephen's, and John Morgan represented equally the positions of Speaker, Leader of the House, and,"when necessary, the whole Opposition. There was consequently no little wonder when the time came that John Morgan ceased altogether from his" Attendance, at the scene of debate, and those who were skilled in noting such things dated his absence -from the day on which news came to him that his son's regiment was ordered on active, service. "He's feared for the day's , news, and that's what's tho matter wi> him." said one man. and tho villagers did not speak in dispraisc of suehunsnartanlike conduct,' although the.v smiled furtively as certain loud-voiced declamations concerning the. virtue' of hardihood keot ringing in thei'- ears; and th.ey listened in silence when John Morgan, loud-voiced and emnhntic as usual, gave it. as his evnlanation that the nost was always late and the evenings were chilly as winter drew near. As was the case of Mahomet and the mountain, however, so was it with John Morgan and the villagers: if he would not come to thfin, they nssnrmllr would find themselves gliding up to him where lie sat ensconced in his comfortable armchair in the house on the hill, and from the vantage-ground of his own fireside he would enunciate the correct attitude lo lie adopted concerning the war and its conscquences. "I take my facs from the ofeeshM reports in the paper there, where ye can see them for yorselves if ye want to." were the closing words wherewilh he invariably fortified an argument which, standing by. itself as a .mere statement unsupported bv external'authority, might, seem somewhat shaky; and the "mphasis of the degenerallv ensured silence, if not verbal acquiescence. Mrs. Alorgan at the onposite side of the fire swiftly clicked her knitting noodles, and with a faith, beautiful in its simplicity, rcc"iciled without effort the numberless contradictions—so they seemed to her—which characterised hor husband's many utterances in the course of the day. _ ' Few of tho villagers were in the way of rceniving daily paners, and so it happened that, by the time when the weekly news budget

should arrive a groat and derisive bat fie had been fought, and throughout the land the first thin wail of grief was spreading and spreading as names of men who had once been fathers, brotltjsp-s, lovers, were placed upon the nation's list o"f dead. The sorrow wail was spreading daily, but as yet it had not reached the northern village, m'ul by .lohn Morgan's cosy fireside the chances of the impending fight were being discussed with an earnestness which the gravity of the situation easily rendered excusable. John Morgan's arrangement of the forces, as told to the rather unusually crowded audience, was snblimo; but a difficulty, unfortunate inasmuch that upon a satisfactory explanation and solution of it depended his entire position, had arisen; and John Morgan was more than ordinarily aggressive and emphatic as objection after objection, tendered with a quiet assurance and firm, were urged against his theory. He hail uttered his usual concluding dictum, but it failed to silence the persistent objector, ivlio went the length of asking to bo shown where in the public print a certain statement was to be found, and John Morgan, with much external gravity and a soul-consuming perplexity and suffocating wrath, was ostentatiously hunting for a passage which he was well awar'o was not to be found in. the rustling pages of tho paper. The deadlock thus occasioned was 011 the point of becoming irksome to the audience, when the outer door was opened ami a neighbour 011 his way up from the post-office stepped into tho heated circle and laid a letter 011 John Morgan's knee. "It's from the scat of war," he said scntontiously as 110 sat down; "a fcee 'On her Majesty's service' 011 the envelope'," having said which 110 threw himself back in his chair and wiped his forehead with his red pocket-handkerchief after the manner 01 one who has ilono his ilutj'

111 To appear to bo moved at the receipt of a letter, even with such high external credentials as the 0110 before him, would have been unworthy of a man of John, Morgan's high reputation among his fellows; and w:liile a sudden pause of expectancy fell upon the little assembly, John Morgan took up tho letter leisurely and glanced at the superscription with a careless negligence. "Ay, a see it's 011 'Her Majesty's service'; a saw that at once from the outside—just so, just so.'' The muttered exclamation concealed his startled perplexity, and was intended to insinuate a perfect familiarity with documents of this class. ... But there-was 110 such. tranquillity evinced/ 011 the opposite side, of the fire,'.where Mrs. Morgan sat, her glasses in her hand, and her eyes staring in startled wonder at the, blue cold-looking document which her husband held in his hand. Her heart's action, hail all but stopped at the first glimpse of it, and she was waiting, eagerly waiting, until the covering should be unfastened and the contents divulged for goofi or ill. "It'll be from Sandy," she said faintly, and tho tension evidenced by her voice communicated itself to those around her, and the complacent expectancy gave way to a grave foreboiling. The situation had become tragic. But beyond a swift glance almost as,of fear in.the direction of his wife, John Morgan made 110 sign. "It's 011 her Majesty's service," lie kept muttering as he bent over the document; "a noticed that 011 tho outside—ay, a noticed that at once." "Will ye 110 read it, John?" said his wife gently as she bent forward and touchcd his hand. He started up violently at tlie ttouch. "0' course a can read it. What makes ye think a canna read it? he said angrily; it'll no take me long to do that." 1 The suggestion of his illiteracy at such a time, among so many of his fellows, brought him to himself with a shock, and he struggled to resume his old important manner as 110 proceeded slowly yanil with, difficulty to unfasten tlii; unfamiliar covering. There was a terrible struggle going on in his mind. He recognised that he was expected to read the letter, and that immediately—the silent gravity of those aroiyid him told of an interested, sympathetic expectancy—and the hour hail now come when it was for him, John Morgan, tho man of reputed learning, and the recognised leader in his native place, to choose whether, he. was publicly to confess before all his fellows that his profession of learning was a fraud, and that he himself was and had been an impostor among them all His days. llow could 110 be able to hold up; his head among them in future? would the very children?—tho idea was torture,' it was not to bo thought of ; anil yet. on the other hand, when tho thought of his soldier son, and what news of him the letter might contain, rushed.upon his mind, his resolve almost gave way, and he made as if to hand the letter to one of those around him. But liis \ vanity conquered even as lie dill so, and in tho desperation of despair and perplexity lie held the Ictcr closely up to his well nigh bloodless face and cleared his throat. . "Ahem,": lie began. "Dear Father : and"— but his - voice dwindled away; lie could not bring himself to say "mother" with that ter- . ror-stricken. face opposite him. "This is to say—ahem!—that I dm well—quite well"— here a heavy fit of prolonged coughing overtook him—"well, and hoping you are tho same, 'Love—ahem! .'lovo : .to all at home—hoping you are the same, from your affectionate son, Sandy." He forced a laugh from'his parched throat as he lamely concluded the woe-begone epistle, and even to himself his voice sounded far away. "There's 110 much news" in that—oll her Majesty's service-r-from the seat 0' war." An oppressive silence' prevailed throughout the'little room, and the vacuous smile which John Morgan strove to assume died away drearily 011 his lips and his white head fell heavily on his breast. His reading was a lie, and instinctively they all knew it. There was a slight movement in the stillness of the room as a venerable-looking old man- stepped forward and took tho letter in his. hand. : "Maybe a can read it for ye, John," ho said simply. Slowly he pulled his glasses from their case anil with much, care adjusted them 011 his forehead. "Sir," he began, as he held the letter to the light, "I regret to have to inform you" —and then he stopped abruptly. V ■ "Neebors," he said v quietlv, turning to those around him, "this is 110 place for you now," and as the last of .them glided' in silent swiftness out of the room, there fell upon his ear the first low moan from the stricken mother as she received tho dread'intelligence of her soldier son's death. And all through that dreary miserable night John Morgan, as ono of his reason bereft, kept muttering .to himself, "011 her Majesty's service—Majesty's service—a saw that at once —from the seat 0' war." ■ —A. B. Fletcher, in "Blackwooils Magazine.".