Wet Birthdays

Dominion, Volume 30, Issue 291, 4 September 1937, Page 9 (Supplement)

Wet Birthdays

(Written for Spring Page by Anne Morton, Wellington.)

JOBY pressed bis nose dismally against the windowpane, and wondered why the rain had to choose that day of all to come down in such torrents. “Just because it’s my birthday, I s’pose,” he muttered, cheerlessly, “an’ we were going to have a picnic in the bush.” Two fat tears slid down his cheeks on to the windowpane and raced the raindrops on the outside for firs’ place to the sill. Bitter, patter! Drip, drip! The rain was coining down harder than ever, and the sky that had been so lovely and blue when Toby had bounced out of bed early that morning—Toby always bounced out of bed early on birthday mornings—was heavy with sullen grey clouds. Toby contemplated the scene more gloomily (han ever, and two more tears ran a race. Came Aunty Meg’s voice from the foot of the stairs. "Toby! Toby! Here’s somebody to see you!” And then the voice of the "somebody” shouting lustily, “Hi, Toby! Where’ve you got to ” Toby stiffened with horror. That was Reggie, captain of the first eleven ami a hero in Toby’s eyes since that memorable day two years ago when, a bewildered little boy, he had been bustled off to boarding school and had found himself in the midst of a crowd of other juniors who had ragged him unmercifully for his shock of tousled yellow curls and his bandy legs. Reggie had come along just as Toby was being prepared for the “tortures,” had soundly boxed his tormentors’ ears, and then told him to cheer up and not to be afraid of anybody or anything. Toby had worshipped him ever after. And now here he was, come to find him because it was holiday time ami he had remembered it was his birthday. Toby winced. He had been crying and he would rather die than meet Reggie with the traces of tears sti.l in his eyes. "Toby!” Aunty Meg’s voice sounded nearer and more impatiently. Escape by the door was impossible. Toby bolted to the window, flung it open. Outside ivy grew in masses, its tough roots well embedded in the brick wal:. Rip! Rip! The leaves, crisp and wet, gave way easily under his weight; but the vines themselves were strong and the downward journey, though n damp one, was soon and safely over. Now, where to go where he could not be seen? He ducked behind a camellia tree on the lawn as he heard his aunt’s footsteps on the stairs. “Toby—oh, he isn’t here!” She had opened the door; be could see the top' 1 of her head outlined against the wall. “He must have gone round the farm with his uncle: he will be so sorry to have missed you. Yes. his ninth birthday.” Toby sighed with relief. She had not uotic** the open window. The rain was stopping, so there was no sense in staying behind the camellia tree. Besides, Reggie would probably pass that way on his way back in a few minutes, and it would be just as bad to be caught thefe as in the attie. He dodged off round the shrubbery, scaled through the fence, and disappeared below a steep clay bank. An idea had come to him. He would go for a ramble on his own through the bush. What did it matter if he did get wet? Anyway, he was pretty damp already. . . . The rain had stopped when he reached the edge of the bush, and shafts of daffodil sunlight struck through the leafy branches overhead anfl made the wet ground, dark with leaves, all mottled and streaked like marble. The leaves brushed Toby’s legs with every step he took, and he shivered With sheer delight as he felt the drops go trickling, warmly-cool, down his bare skin, into his socks, and thence into his shoes. Squelch! squelch! The water bubbled over the top of them now if he took an extra heavy step. He wriggled his toes delightfully, and then looked round for a log to sit on so that he could -wriggle them more easily. He sat there swinging his legs and listening to a bell-bird cllng-clanglng somewhere away in the depths of the bush. Everything was so very still arid the rain had quite, quite stopped. Only now and then you could hear the soft noise that water makes as it drips from leaves high up on to the ground. He was enjoying himself, far more than if he had had to face ReggieReggie who scorned cry-babies, and had never, so people said, cried once in his life. Perhaps it had never rained on his birthday. What was that? Very faint, as though from a long way away; but surely —surely that was a puppy whimpering. Toby’s heart beat fast. He plunged off the track, in among dripping-wet ferns and broken stickyup branches that tore at his socks and several times tripped him tip. But he didn’t mind the falls and even a big scratch that had real blood trickling out of it left him uninterested. He was following the whimpering', and with each step it was getting clearer. ’ Crash! Yelp! Toby went flying has his shoe-lace caught in another branch. And there, almost under him, was a wee grey-black pup, wriggling and squeaking for all it was w’orth. Toby was up in a flash. “Where on earth have you come from?” Toby wanted to know, and picked him up. It whined delightedly, but that didn’t help Toby very much. “I s’pose I’d better take you home,” he said doubtfully. “Aunty Meg will know what to do.” So off they went, the pup tucked in between Toby’s shirt and his blazer. The scramble over logs and ferns was more than ever perilous now, for it would never do to fall plump on the poor little creature again. At last they reached the track. “You’re hungry, you know,” said Toby. Wisely. “Your poor little sides are dreadfully hollow!” The little fellow whined assent and pressed his little wet nose against Toby’s chest. They plodded on through the ferns, and though his shoes squelched more than ever, Toby had ceased to take an interest in them. “Toby!” Reggie stood before him—Reggie just appealed over the tall clay bank. Toby started guiltily, and with a sudden remembrance of the tears of an hour before,- dashed his hand to his eyes. But Reggie wasn’t noticing. “You little monkey, wherever did you get to? We’ve been hunting High and low and—good heavens, have you found him? I brought him for you, but the little rascal slipped away from me coming along the track, and I couldn’t find him anywhere. I wanted you to come and help search for him.” Toby’s eyes were popping. “You—brought him for me?” he gasped. “Of course.” Reggie smiled. “But since you’ve met already I don’t need to introduce you.” “Hurrah!” said Toby with a whoop of joy. “I love wet birthdays!” -