CHILDREN'S COLUMN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIV, Issue 10434, 5 May 1897, Page 3

CHILDREN'S COLUMN.

THE MUFF OF ST. MARTIK'S. [BY t. W. BRIDGESOMH.] " flow's your chance for the Mayfield, Dean f>

"Well, of course I'm working hard, bat Erling's the winner, I think."

" Don't say that. What, that unsociable beggar! He's always shut np with hie books, while yoa do give a decent amount of time to keeping up the school's cricket form. It's a shame!"

" Yes, he does grind; but it means a lot to him, this scholarship. Moeb of us know that when his father died his mater was left in a pretty bad way, and I expect she's found it rather heavy letting him stay here."

Bertie Scott shrugged his shoulders. "It's unfair, nevertheless," he said. "And after all the idiot may overdo it; ht's been looking awfully fagged lately. I hope you'll pull it off, Dean, really." The captain's opinion seemed to he shared by the rest of the school. George Erling was not popular with the fellows of St. Martin's. Hβ had shunned those outdoor games so much favoured by boys—had even cut down, since his entry for the Mayfield Scholarship exam., the little exercise he used to take.

Scott and Dean had not spoken in so low a tone as to be inaudible to a small boy in their vicinity. This was Jimmie Brown, Erling's fag. The seniors having passed on, Brown made his way to Erling'a study. Ab the door he hesitated.

" Hanged if I know how to put it," he said to himself. " Anyhow, he can't eat me. I'll chance it."

"Come in," said a voice as he knocked, and Brown entered.

" What do you want ?" The speaker was a pale-faced youth, sitting at a table covered with books. He looked annoyed, probably on account of the interruption. " Ob, excuse me," said Brown, but I had a letter from the pater this morning; he's off to South Africa again." "He goes aboub three times a year, doesn't he 1"

" Yes; and he sent me the usual—a fiver, ecu know. He always gives me one just before starting for Kimberley. He's got some diamond mines out there. I've told you about them."

" Yes; also that you're his only son, and that he gives you more money than you ought to have." " That's what I wanted to see you about. I don't want this fiver just now. Will you mind it for me?" Brown produced the note. " And, I say" (then he grew very red and stammered), "1 shan't need it for a long time, so, if you want any books or— anything—you won't mind using it, eh f Erling gazed at his fag, frowning. "Do you know what you're saying, Brown ?"

"I-I didn't mean any harm!" " I don't suppose you did. If you want your fiver taken care of, give it to the doctor. Don't suggest lending me money any more. Now please go." Brown backed towards the door. Erling turned to his work, but next moment looked round again. " Not gone yet ?" "I wanted to say that—er—don't you think you ought to get out more? You'll grind yourself to death." "Who told you to say that!" "No one; but the big fellows are saying you'll overdo it, and very likely break down."

"Oh, they say that, do they? I'll look after myself, depend upon it. Now, hook it."

Brown this time made a quick exit. Proeently the study door opined, and Erling called him back. " I am sorry I spoke so sharply," he said. " It's good of you to think of me like that. I fancy I will take a walk." "Perhaps what he says and what the fellows say in right; but I begrudge every hour away from my books. If I don't win the Mayfield—there, I must win it—l must I"

Alone he set out and made for unfrequented parts. "There goes the Muff of St. Martin's I" sneered some of his schoolfellows ag be passed. George knew he was not popular, bat what of that? Ho had set his mind on doing something towards repaying his mother's self-sacrifice, by which alone he had been able to remain at the school. The Mayfield scholarship offered him a glorious opportunity of doing so and he had worked almost fiercely to prepare himself for the

Jimmy Brown's generosity had touched him deeply. " I didn't know there was anyone hers who cared a brasa button for me," he mattered. " I haven't done much to make myself liked, and I don't remember doing anything to secure young Brown's friendship. They all know my position apparently —well, well, I leave at the end of tnisterm, and I only want to win the Mayfield and—" Hia thoughts had occupied him so fully that he had given little or no consideration to the passing of time—had, in fact, been walking almost blindly. Now, however, something occurred that broke the train of his reflections.

A cry for help rang out. Looking up George saw emerging from a group of trees ahead of him a small figure dressed only in a shirt. "What's the matter, Spalding!" aeked the senior, hurrying forward. " Make haste, please, do ! Brown and I have been bathing, and two tramps came along and collared our clothes. Brown tried to rescue his, but got pitched into the river, and he's drowning. They must have seen him show me a fiver he's got." Before the last words were oat George broke into a run. The memory of his fag's goodheartedness lent speed to his legs, and in spito of his untrained condition he went at a fast pace. Dashing among the trees he made for the spot whence ihorfe gasping cries for assistance emanated, and presently came upon a scene that set his blood on fire. A few yards from the riverside was a hulking specimen of the genus tramp rummaging the pockets of a heap of clothes; nearer the water was a similar rascal engaged in hurling stones into the middle of the stream. The former, before be had time to utter a sound, fell like a log from a blow in the throat. The other instantly put up his hands to defend himself, but this availed him nothing against Erling's furious charge. A straight lefthander between the eyes sent him sprawling into the water. "Run for help!" shouted George, and even as he spoke he dived and struck out in the direction of the place where he had just seen Brown disappear. The first scoundrel whom ''the muff , had attacked caught his head against the protruding root of a tree and was now insensible. The second struggled to the bank, and seeing no danger let loose a long string of oaths as he squeezed the water out of his eyes and hair. " Wait till you come out, that's all," he yelled, shaking hie fht at George. Poor Brown, who was no swimmer (he and Spalding were breaking the rules by bathing in this spot), was now in a very weak state. With difficulty the elder boy succeeded in avoiding the youngster's wild attempts to clutch hip, and managed after a while to seize him behind the neck. Then, holding the lad's head as much above the surface as possible, he made for the shore.

His feet at length touched bottom; as they did so a huge stone, narrowly missing hie head, struck him with a (hud on the shoulder.

"I'll kill yer !" biased the tramp. " Let me come out, and it you want) to fight, I'll fight you!" gasped George. " You aha'n'C come out alive!" was the answer, supplemented by a savage curse. With a spring Bcling managed to deposit young Brown partly on the bank, but in doing so slipped backwards in the toft clay. That slip probably tared his life. Whiz! came a second stone, and George felt a suddtn pain in his right ear; the missilea sharp flint— end it, and the warm blood came streaming out. Another plunge, and he had his hands on the bank. Kicks and blows fell heavily upon him, but he dragged himself up and got on his knees.' Jaded and almost fainting as he was, he grasped the tramp's wel clothing and flung his arms round the scoundrel's body. To and fro they swayed, bat the struggle was brief. Exerting him•elf for a mighty effort, Erling put into practice a trick of wrestling he bad once, been taught. Ib succeeded.' There was • crash, a gasping cry, and next moment the Muff of Martio'ewas kneeling on bitoppoIwWngbivdowo. , ? , ,

" This w»y! this my I" • • ' It wu Spalding's voice. George looked round. Little Brown hid crawled on to th« bank, and wai now lying whit* and breathing painfully lix yards off. The sound of approaching feet came from anions the tjees, and as it drew nearer it seemed to grow fainter, A few seconds later Scott, Dean, Spalding, and half a dozen men arrived.

" What's np, Erlinfj f cried thi captain. "Why,.man, you're'bleeding, and—good heavens! he's fainted." Many weeks pissed before George Erling again opened his eyes to consciousness. Ib had been impossible to remove him from St. Martin's, so serious was his condition. Excessive study and worry about his chances in the examination, followed by th« injuries and chill he had sustained that afternoon by the river, had done their work, and more than once he had been given up by the doctors. His mother was beside him, and her delight at seeing her only son restored to her after so much doubt and anxiety may be left unwritten.

It took George some time to grasp the facb that he bad been so long in bed, and when at length he understood it a remembrance flashed upon him that was like a heavy blow. " The Alayfield exam. I" he gasped; then, seeing the pitiful look in his mother's eyes, he went on, "Ah, I know. I could not compete." Mrs. Erling dreaded the consequences of allowing his thoughts to rest upon the lost scholarship. A relapse might ensue and all the good achieved be undone. "Would you like to see any of your friends, George!" she asked. "Friends!" he repeated. " I don't think I've goo any at St. Martin's, mother." " My dear boy, you are the hero of the school. The story of your courage that day by the river has been told over and over again. Everybody at St. Martin's is your friend. As for poor little Brown—" "Ah, I should like to see him." The youngster was sent for and came speedily, beaming with pleasure. " I'm jolly glad you're bettor, Erling!" he exclaimed, " All the fellows are mid to see you aboub again. And Arthur Dean (he won the Mayfield, you know) declares you ought to be in his place. You would have won if you'd competed." " It's very good of Dean. I'm nob so sure I should have come out first. How about those two tramps?" " Oh! they got ib jolly hob ab the sessions ! But I say, I'm so pleased you picked out to-day for getting better. The pater's back in England, and will be ab St. Martin's this afternoon. I wrote to Kimberley, telling him all about you, and— there ! I reckon he'll kiss you when he sees you." The youngster's chatter was amusing, and Mrs. Erling was glad to see her son cheering up under the influence of his|goodhearted little fag. The interview was not of long duration. Soon after Brown left) the room George fell asleep. Almost hie first waking thought was of the lost scholarship. His fondly-cherished hopes were crushed, and he felt unutterably miserable as he lay thinking of the splendid chance he had missed. He was going the right way to worry himself into another illness. There was plenty of the righb stuff in the boy, but the knowledge of his disappointment had come too recently to be faced altogether bravely. His condition was hardly a favourable one in which to receive the hard knocks of fate with perfect resignation. The announcement that Mr. Brown, Jimmy's father, bad arrived and would very much like to see him could nob have come at a better time. A portly, bronzed-faced gentleman presently made his appearance. " Glad to meet yon, my lad—more glad than I can say. I have had a conversation with your good mother, and learned tomething remarkable—'pon my word, mtit remarkable I It was yoar father, il seems, who gave me my first start in life—laid the foundation of my present position, I may say. To find that I owe my sob's life to the son of my benefactor lays on, me an obligation that I can never properly repay. Don't you worry yourself about the scholarship I'm told you worked so hard to get. If only your mother and you will let me— and I shall ask it as a favour—l will see that you lose nothing by thab. Give me your hand, Erling. You are a brave lad— a good lad—and I want to be your friend, as I bear everybody else is who knows you." And certainly the Muff of St. Martin's has since had no reason to regret his loss of the Mayfield Scholarship. Quite the contrary in fact.—Chums.