SHORT STORY.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XLVI, Issue XLVI, 21 October 1911, Page 8

SHORT STORY.

GIDEON . MARSHALL "S HENS

Jt was a chilly morning, and Gideon Marshall buttoned his overcoat about his lean form and drew on a pair of warm, home-made mittens, prepara. lory to taking a 20-mile ride to his own domicile, which could scarcely be called a home. since it sheltered nothing human save himself and an old domestic who had nursed him in infancy, and still persisted in calling L;ni""her boy," though he was on the shady side of 40. But if Gideon lived without the socjety of his fellow mortals, he made up for it by surrounding himself with an Innumerable number of pets.

He kept guinea hens and guinea pigs, rabbits and canaries by the score, and pigeons and geese, tur-kcys and hens beyond count. Then he had squirrels in revolving cages, and crows whose tongue s he had sp.lit that thev might learn to talk. There was a woode'huck, too, that would follow him about like a dog, and diijik milk from a cup, sitting up like a monkey, with cup held firmly in his paws. He had tame mice besides, which cut all sorts of antics, and had their nest in an old coat sleeve which bung at the foot of Gideon's bed, over which they scampered every morning until 'he got up, and then they ran before him to the kitchen- fov their breakfast.

On the morning of which we write Gideon was rejoicing in the acquisition of half a dozen choice Dorking hens, already cooped ' and in his waggon, ready to be taken home. "Take my advice, brother, and let your nets go to grass. Get a sensible little wife to make your hom«= pleasant in place of your miee and woodchucks. and my word for it, you will never be sorry. Such a pet as this now," and Gideon's brother picked up a little curly-headed two. year-old as he spoke; "such a jolly pet as this is worth all of yours a thousand times over."

"You and I can never think alike on that subject, brother," replied Gideon, rather contemptuously, as he took up the reins, and gave his horse a cut with a whip, which put the ancient beast in a lazy trot. The hens cackled their adieus, and the waggon was soon out of sight of tthe group assembled in the porch to witness the departure of their eccentric relative.

"He will never marry—nothing surer than that; and all, I suppose, 'because Linda Pratt jilted him so shabbily years ago. "Weil, she made a miserable match 'for herself, I've been told, though what has become of 'her I'm sure I don't know. Linda wasn't so much to blame, though, after all. Some busybody stirred up a breeze between them, the girl slighted Gid, and he went off in a 'huff, and the engagement was broken."

Thus murmured Gideon's brother, as with little curly-head still in his arms, he retreated into the 'house. Gideon drove away, forgetful of the subject his brother had broached, his mind naturally enough filled with thoughts of the pets which had been held up to ridicule. Never before had he left them so long to the care of another, and he wondered anxiously whether the old housekeeper had not gratified her dislike for his guineapigs, mice, etc., by keeping.them on short rations. Occasionally, as iiis horse jogged along in his steady-go. easy gait, his master would turn to look after the safety of the coop in the back part of the waggon, peering in now and then to see how the fowls wore deporting themselves. Only once did his brother's words awake anything like a wish in ■his bachelor's heart, and that was when he fumed to take a parting view of the happy home circle lie was leaving —Ui-.j father standing in the midst of his children, with the little one laughing and crowing in hi s arms, and the mother bright and smiling by his side. Then he, too, thought of Linda Pratt, and of the long-ago days when she was his promised bride. Then, with a hilf-suppressed sigh for the memory of what might have been, and witih a hasty dash of the hand across the moistened eyes, he dismissed the subject. Gideon had got over half his homeward journey, when, a couple of gay young men, driving a pair of fast horses, approached him from behind. The worthy bachelor was unconscious of their proximity, so absorbed was he in hi s own thoughts, until forcibly apprised of it by a concussion in the rear, occasioned by the tongue of the youngr men's waggon coming in contact with the box of his.

'Well, you'd better run over a body and be done with it," said Gideoiu gruffly. "Didn't see you in time to stop, uncle, 'pon honour," answered the driver, witih comic gravity, then, with a wink at his companion, he turned out of the road in order to pass the slow-going vehicle of Gideon; but the old horse, seeming not to relish the implied reproach, pricked up his ears, stretched his giraffelike neck, and was off like a shot.

'The young men shouted > and the fun-loving 'driver kept back his (iery steeds to see the old horse exert his feeble powers to gain tihe victorv.

•Gideon smiled proudly at the noble efforts of his beast, and slackened in his reins, giving every now and then an encouraging word to the plucky animal. Thus the race continued for tibout a mile, the young men darted ahead like wildfire, shouting out to Gideon:

"Better look after your hens, uncle; they need it by this time." Gideon turned about anxiously to follow this piece of advice, and looked into the coop. But, alas for poor Gideon! his hens were gone. A large hole in the end of the coop re-, 'vealed the manner of their egress. "The mean, low-livett scoundrels! They smashed the coop, and then beguiled me into a race on purpose to let my hens escape; but they're somewhere a-back, and f won't go home without them if it takes me a week to catch tihenu How I should like to horsewhip them fellows!" Thus muttering, Gideon put hishorse about and retraced his steps. "Let's see! 'twas somewhere near the red mill that them rascals did ,'fli'r damage and let my hens out. It would serve me right if I never see a feather of them again. To go to racing horses like a boy, and leave fix of the finest Dorking hens that over cackled; to shift for themselves!''

Never starving hunter looked with more eagev eyes for the game by which lie hoped to appease, his hunger ihiin did Gideon Marshall for his "'is iiit; h°n«. When he reached the little valley where stood the red mill, his evi; s wandered from side to side ; n anxious search.

lie ].:i:-se<! the mill, and drew near a putly white cottage, surrounded by fruit trees and flowering shrubs, which were just beginning to putforth their leaves. A lady, comely and dark-haired, though, past the

rosy blocm of early womanhood, waa standing before the door, admiring a row of beautiful white hens which had mysteriously made their appearance on the premises, and were quietly pluming- themselves on the front- fence.

Gideon saw neither tlhe lady nor the dimple.cheeked child which played near iie r on the young grass. He 'had found his hens, and now his mind was wonderfully perplexed to contrive some way to catch them; tor, t 0 use his own words, they were .I=l "wild as hawks," and quite as fond of their liberty, too. He took an ear of corn from his pocket, and shelling it on the ground, called to them in every conceivable way to come and eat; but the hens were either too stupid to understand or too wise to heed, and so kepi their perch. At length Gideon became convinced that there was no way but to run them down one at a time—no very easy feat to accomplish, considering that they would have all t'he time a. locomotive power in reserve, and could fly or run as their need or fancy prompted. Acting on this conviction, he crept cautiously forward and made a lunge at the nearest, sufficiently dexterous enough to secure a handful of feathers. while the hens fluttered in concert from the fence and struck out in different directions.

Gideon was over the fence in a trice, and in lively pursuit of the refractory fowls. Around the house he followed the •hindmost, and into a neat, newlymade garden over .the smooth, even beds of which he trampled without conjunction. Hound and round he ran, and leaped and jumped until the Ihen a s if desirou s of a wider -field of action flew over the fence into a freshly.ploughed field. This Gideon found less adapted for a race than the garden for with every step he sank ankle-deep in" tlhe mellow loam. After making the circuit of the field, the hen flew into the top of a peach tree, in which 'her fellows con-, gregated. Her safe arrival wa s the occasion of a prolonged and triumphant crow from the rooster, tantalising enough to Gideon, who came up wiping the perspiration from his heated face. As he passed the garren he saw with some surprise the full extent of the mischief he had wrought, and wondered why someone had not come out to remonstrate against his devastating flourishes over tihe beds.

Gideon was In sore perplexity. There was no such thing for him as catching the hens in a race. He stood under the peadh tree in a brown study, scratching his head vigorously to coax therefrom some plan by which his Dorkings might be secured. He did not see the dark eyes winch watched him so curiously from, a back window, nor the misehievi.ous smile that lurked around the lady's mouth a 9 she witnessed his discomfiture.

"I'm dashed if I can think of any way to circumvent the torments. They're too knowing," murmured Gideon. "Maybe the woman can contrive a way to do it. I've heard say women have sharper wits than we."

"Madam," said Gideon, as he approached the cottage and made Ms most polite bow, "I crave your assistance, or rather,. your advice, about catching those hjas in the tree yonder."

The lady thought te would have to wait till night, when tbey were gone to roost, and when Gideon demurred on account of the lonely way lie had to go, she told him he would be welcome to stay over night. Gideon looked more perplexed than ever. What was there in tfhe lady's voice and eyes that puzzled him so? And the child. How its dimpled cheeks and rosy mouth . sent his thoughts far back in the past. He led his* horse, whicih all this while had been standing like a tin-peddler's in the middle of the road, to the stable, and then came back to watch Ibis Dorkings till night should restore them to his keeping. The child's mother was busy in another part of the house, and the little fellow was soon on familiar terms with Gideon, who, strangely enough, felt hi s bachelor heart warm towards him. The little fellow imparted to his new friend all Qiis little stock of knowledge—told him of the brother and sister who were at school, and of the father wlho was at rest in the faraway churchyard. Gideon retired early to his room, meaning to start for home by the break of day. He pulled off his coat and boots, and then took from his wallet a banknote, which was tobe left as a compensation to his hostess for 'her hospitality, aa well as the in-iury lie had done her garden.

But where had he best deposit the money? Several books were lying on a shelf. He took one down, intending to place the bill therein in the form of a book-mark, and leave it on tihe table. Something written on the flyleaf caused him to start, and flush, and pale alternately. He shut the book, fancying himself the victim of an illusion. But again he opened it, and again read his own name and tlhat of Linda Pratt traced in his own handwriting. How well he remembered giv. ing such a book to his betrothed. This must be the very one; but how did it come into the widow's possession? Gideon resolved to know, so, again investing himself in coat and boots, he "went down into the kitchen where the little widow was still at work. Does the reader wish to follow him thither, or will it suffice to say that when he again sought his room it wa s past midnight, and that he was' once more engaged to the. of his youth, the pretty widow, Linda 1 Pratt Holmes?

Gideon did not think of his hens or any of this many pets again that night, though he lay awake till the sun began to streak the east with lines of liglht. 'Mortal never had a lighter heart than "Gideon carried to his home next day. The old Ihousekeeper wondered much when the mice and guinea pigs, the woodchucks and crows disappeared, and her wonder increased when Gideon brought his wife and her dkildren home. To use her own words, "sh& was thunderstruck, but proper glad on't to think her boy was took with a sensible streak'once in his life."

Then the brother, with his family, came clown to offer congratulations, and tlhe old house was made merry by the ring of childish voices, and in time there came another, with hair and eyes the counterpart of Gideon's, wihose happiness the little stranger's advent made complete.