Vi'let.

Evening Post, Volume LXXVI, Issue 106, 31 October 1908, Page 10

Vi'let.

Vi'let was late, and Mrs. MacGregor told Mr. MacGregor that people who i had no help at all were the best off, and that she would do without a servant, and that Vi'let was the worst she had ever had, and this after giving her a new hat only two days ago. Mr. MacGregor was cross, for breakfast was late, the baby was howling, and his duties in the shop demanded his presence five times already ; George, the boy, had come to ask questions. "Where do you keep them there black 'at pins?" he enquired. "What d'ye ast for best blackin?" and so on. Mr. MacGregor was becoming what George described as "fair ropable," and when Vi'let put in her appearance, tears running down her cheeks, George remarked as she walked through the shop. '"Owl, 'owl, your're goin' to catch it. They're both got all their 'air off, an' they're layin' f or you with tommy 'awks." Vi'let ejaculated '"ateful 'ound," and with her handkerchief to her eyes opened the door of the living room. "Well, I like this," began Mrs. MacGregor, "do you happen to know that it only wants ten minutes of nine o'clock, and here's the baby crying, and me with all the breakfast to get." "I can't 'elp it," sobbed Vi'let, "I came to ast if you'd give me a 'oliday, 'cos father's 'anged 'imself." "Goodness gracious," cried Mra. MacGregor. "How dreadful ; whatever for?" "Hanged himself," eaid Mr. MacGregor ; "thia is very serious." "Yes," agreed Vx'let, "we can't think why. Mother she says she was always a good wife to 'im. Kept the house clean an' all, and he brought 'ome 'is wages reg'lar." "Had he been drinking?" enquired Mr. MacGregor. "Well, not to say drinkin'," returned Vi'let; 'but 'ed 'ad more'n was good fer 'im, an' 'c took the noo does lino. Mother says it was just fite thatmide her buy a noo one. She bought it off of you yourself oney last Sat'dy, Mr. MacGregor." "I remember." Mr. MacGregor was stirred ; Mrs. MacGregor was weeping in sympathy with Vi'let. "'E was a good father to us," she sobbed. "Never knocked us about, and never laid a 'and on mother, an' when we lived at Spottiswood 'c used to be a rechabite." "Had Peters given him the sack?" enquired Mr. MacGregor. "No, an' he got a rise oney a week ago. We can't think what come over 'im to mike 'im." Vi'let's tears flowed afresh. George, who had been listening at the keyhole, and who wanted an excuse to enter, here put his head in at the door, and asked if he was to sell them spotted apples any cheaper. "Don't bother me now," said Mr. MacGregor. "What's up with Vi'let?" enquired George. Tho sad story waa related to him, and he lemarked it was a rum go. "Where did he 'ang 'imself?" he enquired. "In the shed," said Vi'let. "And you took 'im down?" "Not quite." Vi'let was contemptuous. "We knew enough to send for the bobby before we touched the body, an' 'c was oiit, co I come on 'ere to tell you." "It is a very sad case," said Mr. MacGregor. ' "I am puzzled ap to the reason. Hadn't your father and mother quarrelled overnight?" "Well, not to say quarrelled," ans,wered Vi'let. "They'd bin a bit nasty like, but nothing to fret about." "Poor, poor fatherless children," said Mrs. MacGregor, glancing with a sigh of relief at her baby in the cradle, and her large placid husband at the end of the table. "We must get up a subscription," said Mr. MacGregor. "Tuesday's market \ day, and '11 put a list on my counter.',' '■'Ad 'c 'is does on?" enquired George. "Of course," reetorted Vi'let. "What are you thinkin' of?" "Thinkiu' p'raps 'c 'adn't,' returned George. ''You'll have to have black," said Mrs. MacGregor softly. "I'll let you have that black serge of mine, Vi'let ; it'll just about fit if you take it in a wee bit under the arms, and take a tuck in the skirt. You might tell your mother we have a nice cheap line of black sateen that would make into good strong frocks for the children. I daresay I could look jou out a hat, too." "Black 'aint my colour," said Vi'let ; "but of course, mournin's different." I '"Ad 'c is working does on?" enquired [ George. "Go and mind the shop," snapped Mis. MacGregor, "and stop asking silly j questions." | "Of course c' 'ad," said Vi'let. "What I else 'd you like to know?" "'Ad 'c 'is 'at on?" "Yes, right over his face Vi'let shuddered at the memory of the gruesome figure swinging in the darkness of the | little shed. "You. mark my words," said George impressively, as he returned to the shop, "there's a lot we don't know yet. Hes spitin' yer mar out, that 's -what 'c's [ Up to." "Go back to the shop, George," comj manded Mr. MacGregor, sternly, "and keep your hands out of the biscuit tins. I don't mind your takin' a biscuit or two, but I object to all the lolly ones going from the front." "Gran'ma — she'll never get over this," said Vi'let, as George returned muttering to the s>hop. "She was that fond of father ; he was always one for a joke and a laugh." 'Poor fellow — that's all over," said Mrs. MacGregor, wiping her eyes. | At this minute George returned. "Here comes the bobby down thr street. 'E's been to your place, so p'raps you'd like t' see 'im Vi'let." George's manner was almost respectful. He had no particular liking for the police himself, but he was interested in those whose circumstances brought thorn into touch with the force. "'E can't tell me nothin' I don't know," sobbed Vi'let. "The pore follows dead, an' that's the end of it." "I never believe any one's dead till I know it," said George oracularly. "My eldest brother — 'c fell in the creek, an' was in howers and bowers, an' when they got 'im out, ma began arrangin' the fun'ral, an' pa says, 'What's yer 'urry!' An' 'im an' Uncle Joseph — the one with the broken nose — resented 'im, an' 'c's driving the coach, at Brandy Greek this very day. You just come out and catch old Thomas, an' see what 'c 'as t' say." Vi'let followed, wiping her eyes. Thomas was just passing the store when sho ran out. "Mi*. Thomas, my poro father "' "Look here," returned the constable savagely, "I have had enough of this tommy rot from you Hills. Next time the old man ties himself vp } and rests his feet on an upside-down kerosene can, just look to see he's really dead before you come bothering me. I left him eating hot sausages, and telling your mother she wasn't so bad after all, but I'll clear the lot of you out of here quick if you get up to these rotten tricks." George grimaced at the back of the outraged policeman, and said to Vi'let, "I knew you were making a fuss about nothing. "--F. F., in the Australasian.