“STUBBY.”

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXV, Issue 16741, 23 December 1914, Page 11

“STUBBY.”

• —— (By MAT SCULLY.) All Rights Reserved.] Mrs Wilson stood on tho front doorstep of her cottage, gazing in astonishment at a little boy who had just handed her a note, written in the schoolboy handwriting of her son, Stubby. Hie boy grinned frankly up into her puzzled face, and ventured an explanation about himself and his presence there. “I’m Ted Smith,” he said. “Stubby’s mate up in the line —at the * Herald ’ Office, you know.” “ Oh, I see,” said Mrs "Wilson, still looking stupidly at him. “Tho note’ll explain all the rest about wot Stubby's doin’,” he added as he ran off. At the gat© he stopped to call out, “ I’ll lie round to 'elp yer ns soon as I can got away to-morrow. Good-bye, missus. Then Mrs Wilson wiped the soapsuds from her hands and read the note, which said:—“Dear Mother, —I know you are nearly worried to death about how things is at home. So I’m going up to seo grandfather. Don’t you go and think that 1 won’t let him know you never sent me. I’ll make that part of the affair clear as daylight to. him. I’ll tell him plain that you wouldn’t newer of done that for anything. Besides, I’ll tell him I’ll get a hiding for going to him. So you must not get wild with me, mother, ’cos I’m only doing the very best tiling 1 can do for us. _ Don’t you get scared about me getting took up for going all that long way on the train- without a ticket. They won’t catch mo, ’cos I will get under the seats and dodge all the guards. I’ll pay them back again some day I hope grandfather will do pleased to see me, and I hope you will forgive mo.—Your loving son, Graham Wilson.” '' . ~ “ P.S.—Ted Smith will give this to vou. He will take the washing bundles back for you while I’m away. He is my mate and he ’as got good honour. Mrs Wilson’s lips tightened as she read, and a great anger filled her heart against Stubby. How could he ever have dared to do such a thing 1 Get a hiding for doing it? Well, if she could only lay her hands on him then —why. she would almost have killed him 1 Tears of helpless vexation filled her eyes and chased each other down her tli in cheeks. . “ After I’ve never let him know a thing about our poverty, and kept away from him all these years—kept up my side of the quarrel in the faoo of everything—and now to have that Hig devil go up there pleading -up tales to him I Ah,, and can t I see that pleased I-told-you-so look on father’s face! If I could only get hold of Stubby now, I would beat him to a pulp. How dare he do such a thing P Putting shame on his mother and father like that! But ju-st et him land home here with any helpmoney, and I’ll teach him a lesson in proper pride- and father, too! it will go, every single penny of it. by the return post, even though it is so sorely needed just now. For more than an hour Mrs Wilson continued to wash clothes, and fume awav to herself about Stubby. But at the end 1 of that time she was beginning to come round into a better mood over the affair. Stubby wasn t a little devil, and she was sorry that she said such a thing—even in anger! Stubby was the best little fellow under the sun, and children act very silly at times; but he ought to have known better than go to his grandfather. However, he was on his way there now, and she was powerless to stop him. Poor little Stubby! "Whatever would she have done without him since they had taken his father to the hosKital three months ago? How eeriousj Stubby had taken their hard times to heart, and how he had worked! Ho knew how much they owed the baker, the grocer and .the milkman. He knew just how many more shillings were needed ere the rent-man could bo paid; and he gave her every penny ho earned on his paper round. That very morning he had surprised her weeping over the ironing-board, and ho had been so hurt about it, holding her hand hard against his little cheek, in silent sympathy. No, Stubby wasn’t a little devil. He was more like a little angel. But whatever possessed him to go to his grandfather with his troubles? Ho had never seen him within his memory, and surely he ought to have known that there was nothing he could have done which would have displeased 1 her more? A few bitter tears still dropped into tho tub. At last she said softly to herself: “I’ll go and pray about it.” Just at the same time Stubby’s father was sitting out on the lawn of the Public Hospital, in a hig easy “ bed-chair,” and’ tho good old doctor had been giving him a lecture against his bad habit of fretting. He said finally, “Now, Wilson, if you want to get home again to that wife and family of yours—you musl put the stop on this worrying business.” And Stubby’s father had promised to try to keep his mind easy in the future. But as soon as tho doctor left him he began to think again, as he was always doing of a certain little woman with tired-looking blue eyes, who was putting up such a brave fight at home to keep their five small children and herself. He thought of the cheerful smile she invariably wore when she came to see him, a smile which hid nothing from him, however; and those new lines around her dear mouth told him everything just as plainly as if she had come to him and said, “Ah, Ben, we are having a fearful struggle to live. We need money.” And Wilson—who could not get better if he worried too much —pushed his head into tho cushions of tho hospital chair and groaned.

Meanwhile Stubby himself had got through safely to his journey’s end, with the aid of a few kindly passengers who had discovered his cramped up Wr® person, after they had gone about flit} miles from Perth. These kindly f°lk had given him biscuits and fruit, am had greatly enjoyed smuggling him away out of sight whenever the guard went through the carriage.. Stubby ever afterwards remembered that tram rido with a thrill of excitement. But when ho finally found himself in the Ain in street of tho great town, in which his grandfather kept a largo store, he began to bare more serious thoughts about his adventure. > Ho dimly thought over nis mother s romance—the outline of which was that she had married Stubby’s father because she loved him, and tne marriage had been very much against her father s wish, who had never forgiven her for it. And Stubby had often heard Ins mother say that she would do the same thing over again to-urj.-: ow notwithstanding all the hard times sue had' had. She also staged that she- would far rather starve ilian ask her father for a sixpence. Stubby remembered all this now as he very timidly entered the great store, which had his grandfather’s name written on the big brick wall outside, also on the windows and over tho door —“ W. Holdgate ” Often had Stubby written it down on his slate at soliool; but somehow it did not seem half as familiar to him here. Stubby was ten last birthday, yet he suddenly felt as if he had shrunk up to about the size of a pea. But ho had come all that long way to seo bis grandfather, and awestruck or not, ho fully intended to do so. Indeed, Stubby looked upon this mission of his, and more especially to its outcome, as being his family’s last hope. He crept up to the first salesman, behind the first counter just inside the shop, and asked, meekly, “ Please, sir, can I eee Mr Holdgate P” Tho man looked down at Stubby and answered pleasantly enough, “ Why, of course, you may, sonny—he is in his office now; just,walk straight through.” Stubby went down the long shop to the small room with a glass door, and knocked, a timid little knock, on the woodwork between the glass panela. A voice called out “Come in,” and the next instant Stubby was standing with his cap in his hand, before an old man with a bald head and white whiskers, who wore spectacles through which he seemed to glare at Stubby. Stubby felt a big lump come into his throat, hut he fought it back manfully and blurted out, <r Please, sir, are you Mr Holdgate?” , The old man looked keenly at Stubby and answered, briefly, “ Yes.” “Well—er-—-” stammered Stubby. “ I’m your grandson. Stub- ■ I mean Graham Wilson.” At this sudden announcement Stubby’s grandfather started, and fairly shouted out, “What!” “ I’m Graham Wilson from Perth—and you’re my grandfather,” Stubby further submitted. The old man looked limp from the sudden shock he had received, but as Stubby continued to gaze calmly at him, he at last gradually began to recover himself. “ Is your mother with you—is she outside?” There was eagerness in his tones, which Stubby did not fail to notice with satisfaction. “ No, grandfather,” said he. “ Mother didn’t know that I was coming to see you ’’—and loyalty to her made him add quickly, “ She wouldn’t have let me come—not for anything—she will be very cross with nle about it.” But instinct seemed to tell the boy that this poor old man did not need to have any salt rubbed into the old sore. A wistful look crept into the faded blue eyes, as he gazed at Stubby. “ I hope you have not been a naughty boy, Graham,”'he said, gravely; and, he added, sternly, “Your mother will be nearly out of her mind if she does not know where you are.” “Oh, but she does know by this,” explained Stubby; “ ’cos I wrote a note to tell her I was going, and I gave it to my mate to give it to her—as soon as I got safely away.” , “But you should not have disobeyed your mother, Graham.” There was something not ungentle in the rebuke. Stubby looked squarely, at tho old man. “I know,” he answered demurely “Then why did you do so?” sternly. , “ Cos something had 1 to be done.'’ “What do you moan?” Stubby squared himself up. “"I mean that mother and me can’t earn enough for everything She’s dead tired every day. Last night .1 heard her crying. That’s wot made mo come to you, grandfather.” “Why, boy, don't your father work?” • Stubby fired up at once. , “Of course lie does,” lie said indignantly, “but he can’t when lie’s sick, can he?” “Oh, I see. You’ve got a quick temper, like your—er—er. Is your father laid up, then?” “He’s in the hospital,” returned the boy shortly. A hig lump came into his throat again, but he mastered it manfully, as before. “ Pull up your stocking, Graham,” were his grandfather’s next words. Stubby obeyed, witli a flush on his face. The old man gazed thoughtfully at him for a few seconds, then he said, “1 fancy you look a good d'eal like I did at your age; but I was certainly much more tidy about my person than you appear to be.” “I’ve been in the train all dav—under the seats on tho dirty floor some of the time,” Stubby at once defended himself. “Why, child! Whatever were you doing under the seats?” “Dodging the guard, ’cos I didn’t have no ticket.” There was a long pause after this, during which Stubby’s grandfather gazed at him with a mixture of queer expressions on his dry, hard old face. At length lie cleared his throat and said : “ Graham, I believe you have the native ability of a, good business man in your composition. Yon seem to bo able to plan out a course of action, overcome all difficulties in the way. of success, and have much resource at your command. I am pleased' to see you any a truo Holdgate. I would very much like to have doings with you in the future.” Stubby about half understood the trend of all this talk, but ho did begin to perceive that his mission was likely to prove more successful than his most sanguine expectations. .Mr Holdgate rose. “1 shall be going homo now. You may come with me, Graham. There is no train back to-night. I find that I havo a. lot to say to you.” Stubby had often heard his mother talk about her old home, and it was with a feeling of great awe that he entered its portals that evening. He very soon felt at homo though, when the old housekeeper looked after his wants, and finally brought him a lot °f. good things to eat. Over the mantelshelf in the big dining-room, there was actually' a largo framed photograph of himself at tho age of three. The picture Stubby looked at was very different to tho present day one, however. The little boy in the picture had long fair curls, and was dressed up like a girl in a velvet suit, with lace collar and cuffs. Poor Stubby wasn’t dressed in velvet now, and, 'alas! for those bygone curls. Stubby had gained his nickname on account of his straight, stubby tufts of hair with which his head was now inartistically adorned. , A thousand memories, always tender thronged into Mr Holdgate s nunc as he watched the boy pause now and then to gaze around the room.

Stubby smiled at him, and Mr Holdgate lelt that it was good to have on or his own kin under his roof once more. Pride, stubborness, and prejui C j° ,' vere very well in their way, nnt one touch of Nature makes the He was just trying to think out a good way to make things right once more with his girl and himself—when he very suddenly astonished Stubby by hiding his faoo on the arm .of his chair and bursting into sobs—sobs, dry, hard sobs, which take the place of tears in the aged. Stubby was not unused to the part of comforter, in his small life, so he knew just what to do now\ He slid out of his chair at the table, and the next instant was at the old man’s side, clasping his thin, wrinkled neck. After a while the sobs ceased. Then for a long time there was silence. At last Stubby said: “We’ll all be glad cos you want,us as much as we want you, grandfather.” Late in the following afternoon, a cab drew up in front of tho Wilson’s place, and a boy’s shrill voice was heard 1 calling out excitedly. “ Mother ! Mother ! Come out here. I’ve brought grandfather back with me!” Mrs Wilson could hardly believe her own eyes when she saw Stubby and her father coming up tho gardon path towards her. The old. man stopped when ho saw her, then he hold out both his arms— Xn and wide. And Mrs Wilson, ided with tears, ran gladly down the path to those yearning arms, and laid her tired head on her father’s trembling shoulder. Reconciliation is sweet, and both father and daughter drank long and deep from that sweet cup, before Mrs Wilson thought again about her dear, little man, who was standing there beaming with s&tasfaction on the happy scene he had brought about. “My little Stubby,” she said, as she crushed him to her heart.