THE TRIUMPH OF ARCHIBALD.

Evening Post, Volume LXXXI, Issue 23, 28 January 1911, Page 12

THE TRIUMPH OF ARCHIBALD.

jfe Al'-th&ay Pegram Waß Completely Irfatuateti with Miss MS Frdme. The fact was known and" commented* upon by his fanyily, by hefa, by their" mutual fffcridg, afid by the \fhole village. Yet-*-so, blind & lov4 J-^-Mf l»egfam* i&agifled tfiat he had concealed it from all bat himself and Miss Frofne, whilst Mi#6 Frome, evett Blinde* thaa he, gftVd not ihe snialleit sign di perceiving hi& devdtion. Hence it followed that -when Anthony tailed at "The Liniefe' 1 eh© Bdigterdtisly wisdy. aftefftooa Mi£§ Ffdmefe welcome, though friendly, was hot enthusiastic) "I have to go ori an errand into tße villagfe," Mi&i Frolne explained, thawing ft little, "but, if you ddn'fc mind waiting ,tuitil I come back in about half an iiour or so— " Mr Pegtafli-iaid Tab would waib «riliifigly. ¦ "We have had nty brother's little boy JroM Oxford Staying -with tts since Fri* 'day," she added, with her hand oh the floot. "He is about ten yeate old, and delicate, and perhaps rathsr fepdilt. If yon eaire to make friends with him I egpecfc you will find him in the diningjroohi.^ "'I shall be delighted !" Said Anthony, though he did hot look as if he found the prospect alluring. "What is Mb a&me?" "It is really Cyril William, but he lias re^christehed himself lately after a chum for whom he has a tremendous adtoifatioh. At present he i& 'Archbald,' 4nd one daren't call him anything elsß iWithout arousing his deadly enmity." . "I will remember," said Anthony obediently, and left Misa Frome to finiih the pastry-making upon which she was engaged. He made his way into ihe dihirigtfoom. It was embty s except for the boy, Who was Curlea up in one of the big leather chairs by tie fireplace* Anthony's desire to be friends with Cyril William, alias Archibald, was scarcely sufficient to overcome bis unfeigned aversion from this bored-looking specimen of boyhood. "Hallo!" he said cheerfully. "Yott *re>*chibald, I suppose?", . "Good afternoon !" said the boy"i "Ye» I'm Archibald. And do you mind shutting the door? My tonsils ar"e bad to- " day." Anthony shut the door with alacrity | and came' nearer to th& fire. I "You seem to be comfortable enough I 'heft, at any rate." "FaiSjy so, but I've been waiting lor a fellow Td arranged to go out with, and he hasn't turned up." "Then we're in something like the £ame boat"—^Anthony tried to smile amiably., hut fouhd it a distinct effort"- '\ i% 'iot I'm waiting for a friehd who's gofle '" feut afid who hasn't come badk yet. So •tot had better tehtertaifi each other, feada't we?" "I suppose so," Said Archibald, afld fcigtoed heavily. There was silence for a niihilte, and then, the boy looked at Anthony, who .. llad seated himßelf in thd opposite fchaif. "D» you know any yarns— -I mean ahV I'm not likely to have heafd bs- ¦ fofe?" *Toßsibly I do," said the yoaflg man. "Let me see ! Beginning with fairy tale*, . do you know — ef^-' Aladdin?' " "Yes, of course !" '"Sinbad?" 'Bluebeard?'" "Several versions. -In fact"— =a gloom ftS*tled on the face of the Weedy boy ¦again— "l know all Grimih'B and A.ndersen's and the 'Arabian Nightß.' Piffling , sort of yarns so^ne of 'em are, too !" "Then," said Anthony helplessly, "I'm afraid you've pretty well exhausted my resources." "Looks like it-, certainly. Do you tnow any poetry?" A— a little." "'Casabianca,' and so on. I suppose? I ciane rather near to writing a thihg on the same lines myself once. Sort of parody, you know. Haven't had time to finish it, though." "I shall be delighted to ace it when you have," said Anthony. There was ahother silence, during which the small boy looked longingly down at his book. "I say," said Archibald at last, ' y T Ye another idea. If you don't know any- ¦ decent fairy stories or verses, or anything of that sort, couldn't you fill ug the time with a yarn off your own bat?" "I dare say I could, if you 'were to ask civilly," said Anthony. "Ob, all right! 1 didn't know you were so 'touchy.' Mr. Pegram, suddenly remembering that he was speaking to Miss Frome's nephew, began hurriedly— "You know so much that there seems scarcely anything left to tell you, btat-^ anyway, there was once a girl-~a .fair damsel, you know- -" i "I wish you could leave the girl out of it," Archibald interrupted, frowning. "I'm simply fed up with girl stories." "I can't!" said Anthony indignantly. "It's quite impossible. Well, she was a jolly good sort, and pretty, and. clever into the bargain. And heaps of fellows wanted to marry her—^ — " "How old was she?" "Somewhere aoout twenty.'* "Thought so! Go on, please!" — with a contemptuous sniff. "But there was one who her "Wasn't a knight, "was he? Because I'm absolutely sick of knights." "No, he wasn't. I wish to goodness you wouldn't interrupt." "You're such a jolly long time coining to the thrilly part," Archibald "complained. ' "How do you know that there is any?" "Because I'm used to that kind of tale. By-and-bye your fellow who isn't a knight will brain somebody, or drag the girl out of a blazing house, and then there'll be 'the clang of wedding-bells in the quiet autumn air.' " "Look her, since you know bo much, you'd better finish the story yourself!" eaid the exasperated Anthony. "There's only likely to be one sort of ending, unless all mis man-and-maiden business is a regular swiz." "Well, suppose you favour me with your version? ' "Oh, all right! Only it seems a pity to get huffy because you have a defective imagination, doesn't it? Well, you started with such worn-out old characters that about the only thing they can do is to get married straight-away and muddle along for the rest of their lives together. Though — if it wasn't a story — I don't suppose they'd have even sense enough to do that! Why, I don't mind telling you that girls -who are quite .decent in some respects show about as much sense as a guinea-pig when it comes to — well, love-making and bo on !'-' i " 'Ten years old, and perhaps rather spoilt i " ¦ murmured Anthony to' himeelf. "Great Scott!" "Now, there's a girl here!" Archibald continued, settling himself comfortably in his chair. "Pd better not mention her nam«, because, for all I know, you may be simply the gas collector or a man about a dog-license or bometbing. Bnt she goes on in a way that's enough to make the family put prusßic-acid in her tea!" "I suppose I shall wake up presently," thought Anthony, "for it must be * dream! No child like this could exi«t in real life!" "And there's no real reason for it, either," bis companion was saying, •hriUy-. .'."Eh© ,chap.'» a dujfer, but all fight. *" 'F-airly 'aunts the place, 'c do !' I heard the cook fay. yesterday. 'Ab'

puts to a dilf eie&t necktie ef ef y time 'c comes !' Donkey ! He's worse than the girl !" • "What— what bs her attitude, then?" "Mopes about like a blessed owl, and blubbers, and calls him softly when he isn't there, t heard her when the ihoon was rising, and Bhe stood on the verandah the other night and thought no one ifas about. AhcU-this is the greatest rob ef all— flhe slips ihto the drawingroom and stands by the window every evening simply because lie passes the end Of the road oh hie way Mck from tdwfi— simply passes it } mind you ! Says Bhe goes to Water the flowers ! Why, she must have poured enough into those window-boxes to keep an aquarium gotfig!" Afitho-ay l6oked tip. "And what do yoil silggest afe a remedy?" "What is needed," eaid the cynic, m&destly, "is fof someone who, like hiyself, has got a little sense left,- to bring the taro together and say, 'Look here, do you of do you hot hahkef enough after each Other's society to get married? Becatise, if y6U do, say to. And, if you' don't, chuck it!" "A very delicate and tactful way ef ending the Situation !' "Of course, that's only my idea ! I Say, your Voice has gone rather hoarse and choky. Is the room, too warm ?" "No, noi at all. Thanks Very much fof your — cr — narrative. And now I father think that I ought to go and meet Mifis Frome. s ' "She's just back} I heard the gate slam, a minute ago\ Here feheiß." The door opened and Iris stood oh the threshold. "I havn't been very Idflg, have I 7" she said, oheeriully. ".You'll excuse me if I hook it now," said the pasty-faced boy, "but I expect I'll see you again later oh." He nodded in a friendly fashion to Anthony, took his cap from the table, ahd was gone. Mlbs Frome laughed as she came farther inte the room. "You have been making each other's acquaintance, I imagine ? "Yes; your nephew has been good enough to take my education in hand." "But Cyril hasn't been in yet, has he ? You have been talking to his hero and ) namesake-^-Profeesoi 1 Littlejohn's boy." j "To whom V i "To Archie Littlejdhtt. He's over | fourteen, but he looks about ten years old, and knows enough for a man of thirty-five. He and Cyril appear to have an extraordinary fascination for each other, ahd they haVe been inseparable ever since Oyril came. 1 ' The doer opehed again, and a Very Small fchild", With a freckled face, peered ia. "le Archibald here ? I've beeh looking for him fof ages !" he began plaintively, and thea, catching sight of Ahthohy, prepared td beat a precipitate retreat. But Miss Frome caught him by the arm. "You mustn't run atray without saying 'Sow do you do V to Mr. Pegram, X)y— Archibald !'» The small boy's face went pink as he extended his hand. , "How do yau do ? I think 1 had better be going, Aunt Iris. Archie Was going to shoij? me how to make ah opiumpipe,* and he— he doesn't like to he kept waiting.' " Anthony closed the door after him. The look of blahk mystification had Vanished, and there was one of settled purpose on his face. 11 1 have spent an enlightening halfhouj?, Miss Fromi. I have received Criticism and advice from -where I didn't ifl the least expect it." "From Archibald 1" "From Archibald. And" — he came quite close to his smiling, trembling divinity with a look in his eyes that brought all the colour to her cheeks — "I know now that there is only one thing to be done" when one wants a thing very badly, and that is to ask for it. 'Iris, my dear, dear girl, will you= ". Well, well — Iris would, in spit of one very feeble effort to deny it. Later their conduct became glaringly , conventional i They came back to mundane things some time afterwards at the sound of footsteps on the gravel outside the window. ¦"Oh !" cried Iris, horror-stricken, for the blinds had not been drawn. "The room's "almost in darkness, darling," said Anthony reassuringly. "And nobody is likely to have been looking in at this time of the day." But, even as he spoke, across the blurred panes there passed the vision of a [ pale, bored youth. There was utter I scorn in his face, and the contempt of a cynic who has passed far beyond the follies of older men. Yet for an instant a Smile flickered there also — the irrepressible satisfaction of one whose advice ¦ has been the means of, ending an, impossible and ridiculous situation. It was indeed the triumph of Archibald!— William Freeman in Toronto Globe.