BRIAN BORU

Evening Post, Volume CVI, Issue 85, 20 October 1928, Page 15

BRIAN BORU

Brian Boru had been staying with his aunt since he had had measlei, and his little friend, Woolly. Bear, had been very lonely. He and Brian Boru understood one another perfectly. You see, it was like this: Woolly Bear was really clever at thinking out wonderful games to play, and, naturally, being so clever, he liked to see his ideas used. Sometimes,.; though, the other boys wouldn't listen to him, but Brian Boru was differ-:, ent. He was rather a duffer—if you know what I mean. He couldn't think of anything for himself, and he was only too pleased to applaud and accept Woolly Bear's suggestions. And now, this afternoon, together for the first time, the two friends were wondering how best to amuse themselves. Woolly Bear said: "I know where I can borrow a boat. Let's go camping up the river. We could take provisions for the week-end, and have an awfully jolly time. Come on, I say," he exclaimed, warming to his idea. "Let's tell them at home. We can both manage a boat." And he hurried up the street, two paces ahead of Brian Boru, to whom he did not speak for some time. Mrs. Woolly Bear and Mrs. Brian Boru had, for once, no objections to raise against their sons' idea. They assisted the boys to carry the cushions, the rugs, and the baskets of food down to the boathousc, and stood on the landing-stage and waved to them as they pushed off. Woolly Bear, looking a handsome, sturdy little figure in his spotless white flannels, smiled indulgently, for he knew that he managed a boat well. The day passed pleasantly enough. After tea they both sat side by side in the stern and paddled leisurely. People from the passing steamers waved to them, and they waved back. When it came to finding a comfortable mooring place for the night they decided that a group of trees, situated on the bank between a narrow footpath and a field, were the very ones. to give them the most adequate shelter. "And," said Woolly Bear, resourceful, as ever, "that field is the very place to cook our supper in!" They were lying back after an enormous meal of bacon and eggs when Brian Boru said:— "I don't like the look of that cloud at all. It looks thundery to;me." "Rubbish!" said Woolly Bear drowsily. '"It's only night coming on. Let's take the things back to the boat, fasten down the awning, and settle for the night. We want to be up early. There's nothing like having a swim and paddling down the river before anybody is astir." "Can you hear anything?" said Brian Boru in the dead of night. He had to dig Woolly Bear in the ribs several times.before he could get any answer out of him, and then he only said: "Stop punching me, and be quiet." "But I believe I can hear somebody creeping along the footpath," whispered Brian. "Suppose it's burglars. What will you say to them?" "Nothing. I shall pretend I haven't heard them." "That's easy enough for you," grunted Brian Boru. "you're on the side nearest the bank." In the heavy darkness his heart pounded like an engine, and his .eyes were wide open with fear. "Oh, what was that?" he cried, and the boat swayed against the bank as he jumped. "Only a water-rat," said Woolly Bear. "Now do give me some more of the blanket and go to sleep." • For a while there was silence, and Brian Boru did indeed doze, but he was quickly awake again. "It's raining," he said. "Why, it's pouring. It's dripping off the trees, into the boat on my side." "Keep the blanket round your ears and you'll be all right," said Woolly Bear. "It won't last long." "It's thundering now," said Brian Boru. The heavens seemed to be rent open above their heads, and the hail beat in a sheet on the canva* covering of their boat. "It'll put your burglars off, anyway.' "How dangerous under all these leaves! I wish we hadn't come.'* Oh, how his heart beat with terror, and the recollection of all he had ever? heard about thunderstorms. How could Woolly Bear sleep on, and on* and on ? "Everything in the boat will be swimming in the morning," he went on. "Hark, just hark, Woolly Bear! What was that? Oh, listen! Something's been struck." The sound of splitting timber crackled near by. In a few minutes there was a great splash in the river, and they could distinguish the rustling of the boughs as a large branch was swept away. Neither Woolly Bear nor Brian Boru spoke! Morning came at last, but it was a cold morning. "I don't want to swim," said Woolly Bear, "but I should like some breakfast." "If it isn't all swept away," said Brian Boru, who had a very bad headache. He rummaged in the bottom of the boat. "The stove is damp," he said, "and all the food is soaked in rain. Now you can make your choice,' he added, a trifle maliciously. . "I think we'd better "go home," he said, shortly. This suggestion had a most cheering effect upon Brian Boru. He pulled down the awning and offered Woolly Bear a paddle. "The storm has made the stream too strong for the pole," he said. "Besides, if we both work, there is less chance of a chill." . And so they returned home. The river seemed entirely empty of small craft. Only barges chugged backwards and forwards. Presently the sun came out in fitful beams. Woolly Bear eased his paddle and looked at the banks, bright with flowers. He hated a suggestion of his to have proved a failure, and he said that, after all, it seemed a pity to go home. .But Brian Boru did not reply. He worked all the harder on his paddle. "Well, well, well," said Woolly Bear, with a shrug of his shoulders, and h<J, too, worked again. On a bridge, not far from their home, they saw two figures standing;,. . waving frantically. ' ■ "Good gracious, there's mum," said Woolly Bear. "With my mum," said Brian Boru. By the time that the punt had drawn level with the bridge, both the ladies had rushed round to the river bank, and were waiting to greet them. After a tremendous amount of gesticulation and exclamation —Mrs. Boru feeling the damp blankets, and Mrs. Woolly Bear feeling the children's . damp clothes —they decided that the boat must be abandoned, and that they, would all return home by train. So it was left in a nearby boathouse, and they trudged to the station. When they had changed their clothes, the mothers offered to take their, offspring to the cinema. As the darkness of the theatre swallowed them up, Woolly Bear caught hold of Brian's arm affectionately, and whispered, "Lookjhere, old chap, I am frightfully sorry if I seemed a bit of a rottcE. last night. You were quite right to make me come back." "Don't mention it," said Brian Boru magnanimously. "DonH mention it. As if I minded!"