RANSOM DARMY.

Evening Post, Volume LXXVIII, Issue 9, 10 July 1909, Page 10

RANSOM DARMY.

We always called her "Cook" while she lived with us, but when f-he married Samuel, the stableman, and another cook reigned in her stead, it was recognised that the march of events had left her without a name, and henceforth she was known to the nursery as "Ransom iDarmy," on account of her fondness for the hymn, in her version of which tho 'words occurred. When she was cook, and her red hair and coquettish disposition led her to •wear green hats, decked with green leaves and even greener feathers, and when she 'became Mrs. Samuel the green feathers survived, and were transplanted year by year to the black bonnets passed, on to Ransom ©army by a former mistress. Samne-1 had a surname, but it was ■oselesfi for purpoees of identification, since he spelt it "Abbott," and pronounced eit "Habbitt," and we were unable to use either form without suffering shipwreck on the ScyJla of bad manners, or tie Charybdis of dropping "h's," either fault (as we gleaned from nurse's discoursn) rendering our ultimate inclusion among tine elect exceedingly problematical. So they had to be Samuel and Ransom Darmy, though w« knew that some similarity of nama between husband and wife was desirable. The nursery conventionalist argued that "it is always !Mr. and 'Mrs. Someone^—Mr. and Mrs. 'Noah, and Mr. and Mrs. (Plunkett where the boots are soled and heeled." It was replied that the rule had exceptions. There was William the Conqueror and Maud. And there were aunts and uncles. Uncle Anthony's wife was not Aunt Anthony, but Auntie Bess. So •Mr. and lilrs. Samuel remain for us Samuel and Hansom Danny to this day. They never had any children, and Ransom Darmy "saw to" Samuel witih such assiduity that he straightway became quite elderly, though lie really was eleven years 'her junior. Her fatlter bad enjoyed poor health, and ehe did not know ho>v to deal with any man who had his pwpe<r complement of limbs and wits. She insisted that Samuel was "sadly," and made him live consistently with this profession. He gave up stablework becauso she said (justly enoug>h) that there was no possibility of his carrying an umbrella or waiting for the rain to "give over" when he was exercising 'Mr. iSmeltam's lrunters. So he riveted china, and clumped or heeltapped boots, in a seemly and deliberate manner, under Ransom Darmy's eye,' ivifchout dropping "bits" on the floor, or descending to the cobbler's vices of snuff, tobacco, theological argument, or profane swearing. But in forgetful moments ho was apt to hiss painstakingly, as though grooming a horse. 'He 'had been married nine years, and had long ceased to show "tho leastest morsel of sperriV when Ransom Darmy directed him to accompany her to the first womern suffrage meeting ever held in Offord Strawless. They arrived early, and sat in the third row behind "Lady D.," as the villagers had called 'Mrs. Follet sine© her husband had become Baron de •Meldreth. • ' A little lady on the platform, astonishingly well dressed and "high-larnt," rose a«d bewildered tho handful of villagers who had faced the prospect of remaining •awake till ten o'clock to please tady D. She marshalled before them the wrongs of the down-trodden women of England. She painted their lives of patient endurajice, their enforced silence, when a single word of theirs would be enough to save a besotted Government from shipwreck. She ' pointed out tho ignominy of beigg herded with babes, criminals, and lunatics, and called on the chivalry of Offord Efcrawless to rise and deliver them. There were tears in her pretty voice, and her eyes were eloquent. Lady D.'s son cheered, and Samuel listened motionless, his long chin sunk in his Sunday waistcoat, above which appeared a, rim of scarlet chestprotector. His mild eyes brightened under the strain of unaccustomed mental effort. He coughed several times, and refused the lozenge proffered by Ransom Danny in the corner of an envelope. "It is cheaper," said the lady on tho pflatform, "much, cheaper, for a man to beafc his wife than to call his neighbours ntomes. He may seriously disable her for seven-and-sixpence, but if he ill-treate a horse he will goto prison." The front row murmured ''Shame," and Ransom Darmy gazed fixedly at Samuel, conveying the impression that (but for her skilled handling) ho would have been a confirmed and brutal wife-beater. Samuel raised his eyes to tire platform, and a gleam of animation, came into his long, eaaine cowirteaiance. "A-mazin'," he said, under his breath. '"Araaattt'!" "•How much longer aire -women to bo .slaves?" demanded the orator. "Their centuries of servitude are nearly over. ■It is coming in our time. It is ours to claim freedom for women and hand it down to our daughters, a deathless gift. ' Samuel wagged his head approvingly all through the votes of thanks, and joined heartily in "God Save the King.' ■The meeting marked an era in his life. He regarded 'Ransom Darmy with other ©yes since he had sat down on that ibezich. 'Raaisom -Danny improved the occasion on the way home, and Samuel listened in sMcmce, which she mistook for his customary dull acqafieseeaice. But on the cottage doorstep she became a.ware of a difference. He -walked in before her and lit the lamp. ".Now get me a glass o' beer, and toast a bit of cheese'!" he commanded, -in a voice about an octave lower than 'Usual. There was a pause; Ransom Darmy could not toeKeve her ea*s. , '"Hen oWJoek," said Samuel. "Too Jate to wait while you stand chatternraggin' there." Hansom Danny stood speechless. She had neaaer made much account of Samuel's brains, but Samuel as a raving lonatic \wonld -haye to be reckoned wi*h, i "Go to bed, Samuel; go to bed," she ordered, steadying her voice to the tone one uses to a, naughty child. "You're that excited there's no knowifi'." . Samuel took a plate from the dresser, held it by its edge, and rapped upon the table in a terrifying manner. "You get the Deer! he said masterfully. "Them things may be changed in our time, but they're not changed yet. I could half-kill you for se-ven'n-eix, and 'I did'n know my privileges. All these years I've said yes, mealy-mouthed to your orders. Now it's me to ordea:. To think I never rekernised my mercies till she told me!" He kept an eye on Ransom Darmy .while she stirred up the fire and toaeted tihe cheese, with trembling fingers, and backward glances at the terrible Samuel, iWlio seemed to expand as she looked. , When she bad set the smoking dish iupon the table, Samuel left his hold upon the ,pk±e ho had used as a symbol of authority and dumped a portion of cfoease upon it. "Set down, my gal!" he said. "Set down and keep me company. Yon. won't find me onconsiderate. I've had experi- | ence." —iF. iM. Goodman, in the Westminster Gazette.