“MELONS”

Evening Star, Issue 19724, 26 November 1927, Page 13

“MELONS”

A SHORT STORY [Written by Tal. Johnston, for the ‘ Evening Star.’] Off Cape Town lay a “ dazzlepainted ” troop ship, aswarm with khakLclad warriors, en route from the Southern countries to the whirling maelstrom of blood and iron that was Europe. Maybe, beneath the toughened ..r----face, in the inner sanctum of private thoughts, some felt the glamour oi adventure—the spiritual uplift if modern knight-errantry, but of such noble thoughts there wore no apparent signs. She was a “ dry ” ship, that one, and with the perverse longing for forbidden things the troops cried unceasingly for beer—for whiskey—for the sparkling wine, and for other things of an alcoholic nature, according to the individual tastes of the criers. A scattering of blue uniforms could be seen in contrast to the conventional khaki; the distinguishing dress of a small band of temporary gentlemen; kindred spirits culled from office, farm, workshop, and the Lord only knows where, but one and all firmly convinced that in his kit lay the uniform of an admiral of the fleet ready against the time when the owner should earn the privilege of wearing it. In short, they were members of the R.N.V.R., with the provisional rank of sub-lieutenant, on .their way Home t,o pass the necessary examinations which would confirm the rank. Among them was one, Hallon, who had been in Cape Town before, and thought that as he knew the ropes ho would be enabled to find the means of quenching the thirst which assailed himself and his immediate friends. When, at last, liberty to go ashore was granted them, the C-O. read them a little lecture on the evils of drink, and the condign punishments awaiting all who were taken in the act of smuggling liquor aboard their very dry vessel, tie mentioned also, that certain districts of the town wore out of bounds, and that efficient sentries guarded the approaches to these various localities. Now, when it is mentioned that the forbidden portions wore the places where one would have to go in search of good things to drink, one can imagine the dismay of the audience when the old C.O. rounded off his talk. But, was Hallon dismayed? No, not a scrap. Being a naval officer he_ was at liberty to go ashore in “ civies,” and with his knowledge of the town, he could see no difficulty in the way of obtaining that on which he had set his heart. So in good time he found himself ambling tip Addorley street and plunging into that part of the town known to the military authorities as No. 6 district, being part of the territory forbidden to troops. He passed the sentries without question, walked slowly along in search of a particualr street, found it, and turned down to a place where in the_ old drhe had bought a certain fluid known as Cape Smoke. Capo Smoke is an inferior, highly potent brandy, made locally from the residue of the wine pressing, and guaranteed by the makers to remove scale from boilers. After one nip of the celebrated Smoko, docile children have been known to bite policemen’s legs at the slightest provocation, and when taken by adults, it will turn them into raging lions or cooing doves, according to their natural bent when primed with liquor. Hallon, having but ten shillings m his possession at the time, bought two bottles of .the liquid lightning, reserving the balance of four shillings to cover the days between that one and the imminent pay day. With the bottles stowed comfortably in his pockets ho set off for the ship, iaugKihgJ-td himself as lie thought of diis unsuspecting friends, and the effect the Smoke, would have on their unaccustomed ■ systems. ' As ho turned into Addorley street, a nasty thought jolted into his mind: How the 'deuce was he to get the stuff on board? Two quart bottles would he bound to show enough for the eagle eye of the sentry to fasten on to, and the subsequent punishment for the attempted smuggling wasn’t pleasant to think about. “I see disaster—and catastrophe—looming before me,” lie communed, darkly, and the pleasant light of anticipation was smothered by the heavy cloud of doubt. Moodily he sauntered down tne street, faced with the terrible alternatives of smashing the bottles, giving them away to some unsuspecting citizen, or, dreadful to contemplate, drinking the two of them before ho returned to tho ship. Just then a husky voice murmured in his ear. pleadingly, hut ho heard it not. A little louder came the words, and as they trickled through to his consciousness, a flash of light shone on his dilemma. “ Watta mel’ns, suh? Watta mel’ns? Ham cheap mel’ns!” Raising his eyes he saw before him a hand cart piled high with tho long, marrow-shaped water melons, and a dusky son of Ham making enticing noises with Ids thick lips pud holding tho very devil of a melon in his arms Like a beastly caricature of tho “ Madonna,” Hallon thought, and asked gruffly, “How much?” “Wan shil’n,” answered tho dealer, briefly.

‘Thief,” comnnntcd Hallon, as lie reached for his little pile of .silver. “ Give me two big ones.’ With a long melon under’ eaeh arm and new hope in his heart, ho turned aside from the Adderley street fruit market and sought less-frequented bywars. He found one There, with Ills pocket knife, he neatly decapitated the melons, inserted his hand and drew out the mushy interior, then, drawing the bottles from his pockets, forced one securely home in the hollow centre of each melon. A box of wooden matches provided pegs for refastening the top, and a little massage served to smooth the green skin over the circular cut. So he came back to the ship with his precious burden clasped beneath his arras, and set foot on the gangway. Just as tho sentry stood aside to allow him aboard, a stout gentleman in khaki strolled up and beamed pleasantly upon tho safely returned member of his flock. “Hal Hallon. Been ashore? ” “ Ycssir,” agreed the uncomfortable bearer of the melons. “ Bless my soul,” said the stout person—ho was a major—“ are those water melon s, Ha 11 on ? ” “ Yessir.” “Hear, dear! Water melons, eh! Very good things for tho hot weather, He "mi. very good. Very fond of water nr is, y’know. Tell y’ what. Supposing I buy those two from you, could you get some more for yourself, now?” “Yessir,” Hallon answered,_ and wished, too late, that he had said mo- “ Excellent!” said the major, genially, “hand ’em over. How much (lid they cost you?” 'Wondering furiously if the old chap would take a tumble and show a little of the true sporting instinct, Hallon gripped his melons tighter, and with a pale face, but meaning grin, replied: “Those melons have-er-well, sir, they’ve become a little more valuable sflico I bought them. That is, to me.” There was a deliberate accent on tho “ me.”

“Have they, now?” said the major, a little impatiently. Ho had not caught the significance of the other’s tone. ‘■' Weil, my boy, name your price and give me the things.” “Eight shillings, sir,” the sub. answered honestly; too perturbed to think of putting a prohibitive price ou thorn.

So, with a silent groan of despair, ho handed them over and retired to his cabin to await whatever fate should fall ou his unfortunate head An hour passed—two hours, then came the dreaded sound of a peremptory knock on the door. “Come in,” lie invited in a hollow voice. Visions of being sent home in disgrace rose in his mind, and he cursed himself for his folly in trying to evade the regulations. The door opened, and the major sidled his bulk into the tiny cabin. For a moment _ho stood regarding Ballon with a smile of paternal fondness, then, in a voice broken with emotion, spoke: “ Hall’n, in’ boy—wonderful, wonderful melonshl Hcresh a fiver—buy mo some rnoreV tli’ same. Pinosli ihing' I know f’ th’ hot weather.” Then, with majestic gravity, the old soldier withdrew from the cabin and repaired to his own quarter that lie might, without interruption, resume his fruitarian diet as a guard against the actinic rats of the African sun.