MIMI’S NEW YEAR.

Manawatu Times, Volume XLII, Issue 1730, 4 February 1921, Page 2

MIMI’S NEW YEAR.

DREAM THAT CAME TRUE. WITH THE DIGGER TO ABBEYILLE. , (By Eric Fairey, in the Sydney “Sun.’) “C'est no pas possible, Deegar!” Mimi sighed wistfull;., and shook her dark curls. The “Deegar” had suggested the accomplishment of the dream of Mimi’s lifetime —a visit to Abbeville. How uninteresting and how dreapy seemed the little village of Hautecourt when a vision of the glories of Abbeville burst upon Mimi’s'' dark eyes. Mimi had often paused in her daily labour in the "Be’etraf” fields to lean awhile upon the heavy hoc-handle, and dream those dreams so dear to the heart of a young girl. Often amid the shimmering heat of summer the spires of distant churches told her of the wonders of the big market towns above which they rose. Far away down the dusty road that lay like a red ribbon through the gr.een of the “beetraf” lields she sometimes saw a horse and its' rider slowly approaching. Mimi liked to dream that the rider was a gallant returning from the wars, and that she was his lady fair, Impatiently awaiting his long-missed embraces. But the horse and its rider nearly always became an old bearded farmer and a plough horse.

But one day a gallant from the wars really did come down the red road. He took the heavy hoe from her tired hands, and in one hour did more, work than Mimi could have done in half a day. And then lie walked over to where she was resting, tilted her chin, kissed her, and asked her name.

To Mimi’s question lie replied, “Oh. my name is Digger.” And then, “So long, Mimi! See you again!” and away he trudged down the road leading into Hantecourt.

From that day onward Mimi’s life was changed. Every day "Deegar” lightened her toil; and the kiss of thanks was a payment so easy and so delightful to make. Once her mother had observed the Digger receiving his reward for half a day’s labour. She spoke to Mimi harshly, whereupon she was referred to the labour performed, and the probability of its not being continued if payment was not made. ! Madame cast her eyes over the well-tilled field, and turned away with a smi|.j of satisfaction.

"These Australians! How they kiss; but how they work!” she inwardly reflected.

“C’est ne pas possible, Deegar! Madame she esc not geeve me permission for- promenade Abbeville." “Oh, yes she will. Come- along and we’ll ask her.” ,

Madame shook her head emphatically when the Digger made his request. “Non! non! Cost he pas possible, M’sleurl There ees beaucoup de travail pour Mlhrl to-day!” “What! Work on Now Year’s Day? Look here, Madame, if you don’t let Mimi go with me to Abbeville I won’t chop any more du bois pour vous. 1 Compree? I*ll kill every cow you've got! Compree assassination cow? And I’ll run the hoe through every blarsted beetraf! Compree?” Madame “compreed” and trembled. These terrible Australians! / Ah, he would do it. Better that Mimi should go with him to Abbeville than have le ferme destroyed. Madame gave in. “Mimi, she must revenir at seex o’cluck, M’sieur.”

Mimi fled into hoo whitewashed room hurriedly to adorn herself for the greatest day in her life. The Digger had already arranged to borrow a dogcart from a Transport Section to which he belonged. Half an hour later Madame grudgingly bade "Au revoir” to Mimi and her champion. It was not to those parts of Abbeville beloved by Ruskin that the Digger took Mimi. No; it was to the shops that they went. What treasure-houses were those shops in Mimi’s eyes! Many were full of cheap, tawdry goods, but to this peasant girl gilt-framed mirrors were, edged with gold, and imitation silk scarves were the unadulterated product of the silkworm. The Digger spent franc after franc. But Mimi was not for when her lover wound a silken scarf, priced 25 francs, around her pretty neck, she protested. “Non! Non! Deegar. Eet ees too much! Twentee-feeve francs! Non! Non!” and she unwound its soft folds and handed it back to the shop assistant.

There was a hint of tears in her voice anfi in her eyes; but the allwonderful “Deegar” cleared it away as he snatched the scarf from the shop girl and again twisted It, this time more brusquely, around Mimi’s fair throat.

It was 6.30 p.m., and back in the little village of Hantecourt Madame was growing impatient. Six miles away a lazy mule was congratulating itself on the slow progress of the dogcart it pulled. The" girl with the dark curie was very conscious of the arm about her waist, and the exquisite softness of the silken scarf around her throat. In the end the mule stopped, and it was mildly surprised when several moments elapsed before a curse was flung at him. But the Digger’s thoughts had for a moment turned from tire soft, warm presence of Mimi. A week must go by ere pay-day arrived. A powder puff bad taken his last franc, and yet Mimi was worth any financial embarrassment, and it was the first holiday she bad ever known! “Get up, donk!” interrupted the mule’s evening meditations, and the dogcart rattled along the Hantecourt road.