SHORT STORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLII, Issue 12868, 17 May 1905, Page 2 (Supplement)

SHORT STORY.

THE WIND-IT OF BOHEMIA, i Brooke's flat -.consisted, of three rooms.'; You entered '.what ho termed his "study'' through the hall door, and this room led into another by an arch. Running off; from this second roomhe called it his loafingplace—Was his bedroom. Flo always kept the bedroom door locked—principally he cause people dropped in on him at till hours, and he held that it didn't look exactly nice to have one's parlour next door to one's bedroom,,'even if one did live in a flat. .Brooke lived in Bohemia—and this Bohemia was in the very heart of Bloomsbury. It wasn't the Bohemia of the- half-starved and the unshaven —the Bohemia of long hair and nasty speech. It was merely the Bohemia of congeniality and unoonvelitiality —a gathering together of Clover folk of both sexes, who did and said pretty much what they pleased, who borrowed from and loaned to each other various small sums of money, and never bothered about making a memorandum of it.—the Bohemia where one's secret belonged to the crowd and went no farther. A- clever Joan Travels once summed if. up: "Yon .can go to Brooke's rooms, meet a lot of jolly people, have all you want to cat and drink, laugh a good deal, and never hoar anything but of the way." It. was ten minute- to eight on a. sultry dune night when into Brooke's room sauntered Monteith. "Hullo, Ben, have the things come yet'.''' "What things?" asked Brooke. "The eatables—ordered them sent round at 7.30. The crowd will bo here to-night— Kales, Aloe Drmnniond. Bates, Kate Rhodes, Etta; Fanny Locke; and maybe .loan Tracers. .She'-; doing a turn up at. one of the halls— 1 forget which one—-and she said she won't he able to got down before 10.30. You owe me a sovereign as your share of the stuff." .Brooke dived down into his pockets and gave Monteith the money. . ".Monty, old man." he said, seriously, I "I'm getting tired of Bohemia. To-night will be my last flight at .it." j ■ '"Getting religious'.'" queried Monteith. lighting a cigarette. "No: getting sensible," answered Brooke. "Get lots of it, Ben—it'll do you good. Hullo, there goes 10 bell—guess it's the fodder." i Into the room trooped Fales, Fanny Locke, and Kate Rhodes, their arms full of packages. "Found them down on the hat-rack, Ben," said Kate Rhodes. "so" we constituted ourselws a catering committee of three. Put 'em on the table, Fanny." ' Helter-skelter on the iable went the packages—honed chicken, rolls, olives, caviare. tie brie,, crackers, ground coffee, butter, and tanned tongue. . Etta Andrew's came panting up the stairs just then, and -he greeted the crowd with a wave of. her hand and, "Phew! isn't tonight a b.;oiler'r" Then she. fell into a chair and. nodding over to Pales, said. "Jack, pour me out « cold glass of beer and yon may have a kiss." "1 don't have to take it. do I. Etta?" a-ked Fales, with a mock resigned look. "No, dear; I'll give it to you—and pay in advance," and She jumped from the chair, and, running over to him threw her arms around his neck and planted a resounding smack on his litis. Meanwhile, fanny Locke had gone to the refrigerator, and. assisted by Monteith and Kate, was milking high-ball's }, she insisted, however, on • squirting ' the seltzer because -ho liked the sound of the syphon. "Pimi*li accepted two of my drawings last week. Monty." she said. "and I finished a man to-day that is perfectly grand." '•Here's to the man you finished.'' said Monteith, holding up his glass. "Your health, you strong and mighty amazon." " "What have you been doing lately, Kate?" asked Brooke. ' , "Oh. going to the Park and painting daisies that looked scared half to death," she answered. ,"I sold a little study of roses last week, but somehow or other I can't make a daisy look lil«T# a respectable member of society, I got a big bunch of them, tied them on my easel, and then attempted to transfer them to canvas. When I'd finished—well, the painting looked a study of Rip van Winkle's beard after Rip had been eating hard-boiled eggs and wasn't particular whore the yolks went." Brooke laughed heartily. "Here's your health. Kate, and may all your daisies hereafter look like buttercups in a field of milk."

Alee Drummond and Rates came iii at this juncture, anil Drtimmoud shied his hal over at Etta Andrews, who promptly kicked it under the (able. Bates had a parcel in his hand, a bulky package wrapped in what looked to be a newspaper;* '• What's- that. Rates?" asked Brooke. "The War Cry, my son. I bought it from a cadaverous-looking -man who looked us if ho- needed money." "The War Cry may he the wrapper." •-aid Etta Andrews, "but what's in it?" ''"Useful information, my dear Etta, as to how to avoid the Evil Onethat's what's in it : and a very good paper it is." '■ Rates, you're positively brilliant tonight," rejoined Etta. "Will you kindly inform me a- to the nature of the beast you have wrapped up in that War Cry?" "Certainly. Kttn. dear, since you beseech so "i plaintively," answered' Bate-. " The monster imprisoned here happens to he several. Behold!" and he deftly caught one end of the paper, and allowed the contents to fall to the floor. * "Loonies!" shrieked Etta, in a gurgle of! delight, and she scrambled on the floor, and ' collected the different link's. " Fourteen of them." she said. " Fifteen," said Bates. Etta counted again. '" Foul-teen links. my boy." •-•'I brought 'in fifteen," said Bate-. " You've lost one. Behold. I shall emulate Darwin and hunt for the missing link," and Halts dropped to his knee* and presently found the sausage peacefully reposing- under the table in Dmmmond's Inn. Brooke brought out the chafing-dish, > and the rest of the crowd busied themselves with opening cans, bringing out plates, knives,, fork-;, spoons, etc Brooke wanted coffee, so Kate started the kettle on the live o'clock tea stand. " Who's waiter':" asked Drummond, plaintively. Listen in the Czar of all the Russia?,.'' said Fanny Locke, scornfully. " Alec, dear, if you want a drink wait on yourself." " Any ginger ale in the refrigerator, Ben?" asked Drunimond. "I think there are a couple of bor.tles, Alec. Co hunt and take them away from the intoxicating crowd against whom they are nestling'. I'm busy boiling eggs." " I never lasted better boiled "eggs than Ben Cooks," said Bates. "You're a past master at hard-boiled eggs, Ben. I never saw your, equal. What's your recipe?" "Oh," answered Brooke, with a twinkle. in his eves. " I put them in boiling water and let them stay there until you make a brilliant remark. They're in there so long they're bottud to be hard." And so the good-humoured chaff went round until, about half-past ten. a low. peculiar whistle was heard form the street. i' "Thai's our whistle," said Tales. "Who is it?" ' Brooke looked from the window and answered the whistle, It's .lean Tracers," he said, and he went down to the door to let her in. r " I think Brooke likes Jean rather well," said Alee Drummond. "And why shouldn't lie'.-" asked Kate. "I'm .sure I don't know,' answered Drumniond, musingly. '.' .Shouldn't he like her just, because you do. Alee?' asked Etta, pointedly. , ■ " I take that a a compliment. Etta. The fact that I should like that which Hen Brooke doe- shows me to be a man of taste and judgment." And just then .Iran Travers entered. "T came on my bicycle, people, because that was the quickest way of getting- through the park. Is my costume tor* abbreviated?" " I hope your visit, dear, will be longer than your -kin." said Benny Brooke, bowing. .Iran Travels turned towards him. a flu-li on her face, her eyes sparkling. " You have such a pretty way, Ren. of saying nasty things thai I think of the pretliuess anil forget the Hastiness." •' Which .-hows what a horn philosopher you arc, .lean," said Monteit.lt. ''Not bent so. Montyl've acquired it since 1 went on the stage, and it's been a mighty expensive acquisition. Fin hungry as a bear; what, have you got to cat?" Devour me. my dear." said Fales. falling on his knees ii*, front of her. " I'm a true apostle of sweetness and light, and I know yon have a sweet moth. Eat me up in tie pieces, but begin i, v tasting mv lips:; "(Jot up, .lack." --aid Joan: ''you'd prove too indigestible a morsel for my" delicate palate. For. if report do not. belie von, you're rather tough." " He'd be tender enough if you'd give him a chance,'.' laughed Dnunrnond. "Wouldn't he. Etta?" ."After f act finished roasting him he will," she said, significantly. All on a sudden bales looked oil I of the window. "It is the morn herself." ho said. ' By .lo\ii, folks, it's ten minutes of lour." "Shades of our ancestors, girls, let's gel the dishes: washed!" said Jean Travel's. And in a jiffy plates were emptied and

the dishes trotted over to the bathroom anil washed. They then went downstairs. Brooke tola Jean Travers he'd take b»r home; just so soon as he "got on his knickerbockers. •They waited for Brooke at the 'rout door. There* the party split, and Brooke and Jean Travers pedalled along. " Instead of going home, .lean,'' said Brooke. "what, do you say to an carlr morning spin in the Park? The sun will' he up in half an hour.'' "Agreed," Said .lean. Within twenty minutes they were in Hyde Park, speeding along like two heralds of he dawn. When they'd readied the Serpentine Brooke said, "Suppose we dis- . mount, .lean. I want to talk to you."' They found a bench and sat down, jn.- ■*? as the sun showed his face in a shamed way. f as if he'd been (aught napping and was get ting up late. • "Well, Ben'.'" she queried. . " Well. .lean. I'm going to give up ]i,>. hernia. I didn't say anything to the crowd to-night, because i thought it- might act as a, wot blanket. But I'm going to give it up." ' Why. my boy?" " Well, for a time it fascinated me, Jean. T like clever people, like to hear them talk, like to rub my brains against theirs, and have my wit* stirred a- bit. But what does it all amount to?" ) " What does anything amount to?" asked the girl, .wearily. ~\ "Lots of things, Jean, have something* substantia] back- to them. Bohemia has absolutely nothing. Wo sit and drink and eat until daylight comes, and then we're', totally unfit for any Fort of work that ..lav. And then it isn't right—it isn't right for you —for girls, I mean—to come down to iny rooms." •lean Travels caught her breath hard. "Why, Ben, dear, there's never been the slightest disrespect shown to any of us down there. ff I'd thought for one minute that you'd think any tho less of mo for having come down there—'.' She stopped suddenly and covered her face with her hands. "There, there, Jean!" said Brooke, gent-' ly, "J didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I know you're a good woman, but the other evening, at my sister's, I described one of our Bohemian evenings, and my sister said some things that set me thinking. And I couldn't bear to have her or anyone think : lightly of you." The girl raised her head quickly. "You didn't mention my name to her, Ben? Yon didn't tell her I was at your rooms';" "There!" cried Brooke in an instant; "by that speech of yours you see the truth " of what I am telling you—you've no right to come there." "" •:■' Tito girl was silent, thinking. Then she nodded her head slowly in the affirmative, v Ben, dear," she began, "I've seen the' seamy side of life. I dance and sing in a musical hall, so I can make money and keep.; adding to my little hank account. Yet. in * that music-hall there is no taint, for I'm | myself: and, after all, it's for ourselves, we 7 must answer. Bohemia is a life in itself. It's a jolly comradeship it's sexless; it's honest. Compare our little evening we have just lived through with an evening company among your social equals. One woman vies . with another in her gowning: they .say nasty, • catty things of and to each other. The men are cliquey. Now, take our Bohemia : it's honest— a mean word escapes, not a s sentence that might hurt. Do you wonder, that it appeals to us girls? That it touches • its, because if is the one place we can unbend and bo free, and nor. have our actions misconstrued?" " It was Benny Brooke's turn to be silent. After a little while he said. "There's another reason for my giving up Bohemia,Jean—l'm going away." When'?" she asked, quickly, putting her' hand on his arm. * ■ . "Oh, I don't know exactly," he said, uneasily: "but I'm going somewhere where', 1 can make more money." "I've a hundred pounds. Ben. that I haven't a. particle of use for; take it. won't you. and—and—and stay in the city! Give up Bohemia—yes. we'll_ both give it up: but stay in the city won't yori?" . lie looked down at her flushed, eager face, and his arm stole around her waist, and he" drew her to him gently and kissed her. ; ".loan, dear, I must go away," lie said. - Her head was buried in bis chest,, but -lie lifted it ever so little, and pooped up at hint > through tearful eyes. "Why must you go away, Bon?" she whispered. - raj "Well. I've lost my position on the' paper. I've no prosper ahead, and I want some money before ] ask a certain girl a certain question. So I'm going away, Jean, dear, to find tho money." There was » . ring of pathos in his voice, and the girl noted ii; . " Couldn't von." she whispered—"couldn't you ask the girl the question before you went away? Couldn't you ask her now?" - 'It wouldn't he fair to her," be said quickly:*" she might have to wait years." " If] loved a man," she said. "I'd wait a lifetime for him." " Will you wait for me, dear?" he said, gently, bending closer to her. He' could feel her tremble from head to foot. "Oh. Ben, Ben!" she sobbed—and that was her answer. ,