SHORT STORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 13768, 5 June 1908, Page 3

SHORT STORY.

THE GOLLI-GOLLI RIVER.

"Have you chosen your crook':" I asked. "Oh,'don't be an ass!" said Tony, irritably: then, after a pause, "Fancy me mixing bran-mash for, a pack of sheep—what?" I closed ray eyes; T could picture Tony as a shepherd at a Covent Garden ball; but Tony on s. practicable > sheep-run. No, 1 could not imagine it. We were sitting in his "den," under his paternal roof-tree, anil-he had told me the last and worst of his troubles. The fiat had gone forth that he wa„ to be expatriated to some outlandish colony—a place with a_ brilliant future, possibly, but with a very dismal present, by his own account of it. This was his last chance-the third or fourth last chance he had had. Although his debts and his waistcoats had made some sort of a. name for him it Oxford, he had shown himself consistently incapable of passing any kind of examination whatever: and the city—another last chance—had just decided to rub along as best it could without him. Clearly, lie was a case for the colonies, or so, at least, thought his father, Canon Ferrers ; and Tony was plunged in gloom in consequence. "Harkaway is dining here, to-night," he said, despondently. "Who is HarkawayV" "The Harkaway," said Tony, explicitly. "He's the fellow, don't you know, who's trying to develop this blessed colony I'm telling you about; and, of course, he'll picture it as a. sort of Tom Tiddler's ground, and talk the governor into sending me out at once." Tony was reaching for another cigarette when a servant brought, him a note on a salver. Ho read it through before discovering that it was for his mother. "It's from Harkaway—he can't come tonight," he said. "A respite." said T. .„,,.• "Yes, but the governor will look him up to-morrow or the day after," sighed Tony, " unless—" And he glanced in an odd, scrutinising way at me. _ ( " You're a(i awfully good fellow, Wilmot, he continued, after a pause, " and I don t think I ever saw a better amateur actor. Tony really has some very good points about him—sound judgment, and'a thorough appreciation of histrionic ability. Ho would make a good dramatic critic— he could spell. ~ . ~ t ~ " Oil ! f don't give myself airs. I said. but some people do think pretty well of my Joseph Surface, and my Captain Absolute, now—" "I'd rather see you as Harkaway the explorer," said Tony, quietly. "What do you mean?* Tony looked eager. . , ■ "Come and dine here to-night, in the part of Harkaway, and give such an account of the colony that the whole scheme of transporting me will fall through." ; Ridiculous 1 protested. I never heard of such nonsense." " You could say how . beastly unhealthy the climate is." i " Certainly not." \ "And you might, put in something about lie value of home influences," added the graceless youth with a grin. "It'll all be quite sale; my people, have never seen you, ni>r Harkaway" either ; the governor was out when he called with his letter of introduction. And in three days he sails again. _ My dwr old fellow, you can save my hie," he co'acludod fervently.

" Never," I said, firmly, "never. I.rose and walked to the fireplace The hearthrug is my favourite rostrum when 1 want «> speak winged words. , a „-if >> "You ought to be ashamed, of yourself, I went on, "and—hullo! who is this. "This was a photograph in a silver frame Sometimes, in dreams, I have imagined .such a face; but never woman that walked on earth wore such celestial beauty within my experience. The hair rippling across -the low, wide brow, the sunny smile that just parted those exquisite lips-why, I suddenly felt that I had been looking for that lace all my life. "Who is it?" I demanded. "Someone I know," said Tony, huffily- " Why don't I know her*" I asked, jealously. - " You shall, old boy, before you re many hours older, if you'll do what 1 ask, replied Tony, quickly. | "And if I refuse?" "Well, J can't introduce you to her if I'm at the Back or Beyond." said Tour. I protested against the shameful bargain, but thy young wretch was obdurate. He knew he had me. I have always despised the laggard in love, and I would go to any lengths to meet her. Mv first step was to go to a. bookshop and "buy Harkaway's book on " Wlntenwnsland." I read this while dressing for dinner. The new colony seemed to be a land flowing with "milk and honeyin fact, I almost felt inclined to go there myself after skimming through three or four chapters. But I arranged in my mind what aspects of colonial life J would dwell upon, and at 7.30 precisely. "Mr. Harkaway" was ushered into the canon's drawing-room. Mrs. Ferrers, a lady with a pleasing air of early Victorian refinement, mentally weighed me in the balance at first sight. Was I a suitable eompaguori do voyage for her Tony? 1 think 1 made a favourable impression, thanks to my manly bearing and tanned facethe tan was very difficult to gel off afterwards, by the way—and the canon greeted me wilh'edhdesceiidiiig civility. ■ Then Tony fluttered in, shooting his cuffs, shook hands with me- briskly, and affably expressed a hope that I found London warm enough for me. And then—then she came. I was being presented to her. 'I. could have killed Tony. He had redeemed his promise, it was true, but why did he conceal from me the fact that she was his- own sister?

Her name was Maisie. . . . . What -a, sweet name! Maisie! . . . And I ■-.was introduced to her, of all women in the world, when I was sailing under false colours. A Neither my thoughts nor my speech- were very coherent till we got to the pheasants. Then we began to touch upon the topic I had come to talk about" Whitemansland," the place with a future.

You like the country?'' said the canon.

"It has its drawbacks," I said shortly—l had resolved to be like that, short, bluff, rather taciturn, as an explorer should be— "there are no white women there," and I sighed. ■-•'.,"'■ The canon crumbled his bread and looked thoughtfully at his son. who had been named after that excellent saint who was so proof against feminine wilesand named very inaptly. I could see I had blundered. Canon Ferrers was thinking that the absence of the fair sex might be no bad tiling for our modern Anthony.

"But many of our fellows marrv black women," I said carelessly to Mrs. Ferrers, who shivered slightly.

"Oil, I say, how awful!" said Tony, with a grateful look.

" Wait till you've been a few years on tho banks of the Golli-Colli River, my boy," I replied, " away from all the refining home influences. Not that I"— I added hastily, feeling Maisie's eyes upon me—" not that I excuse or understand it. But one has to face facts."

And then I certainly had a fact to face— a regular sneezer. The butler was talking to Canon Ferrers in a discreet undertone.

What name did you say?" asked the canon. " i " Mr. Harkaway, sir. When I told him you were at dinner he said he would wait in the library. "But Mr. Harkaway is already here !" said the canon.

tony looked disconcerted, for the first time in his life, I believe. For myself I wanted an earthquake to happen.' But it didn't, and the canon's face showed, grim and distinct, in the midst of an otherwise hazy world. Then a voice—somebody's voicemy voice, remarked— "Oh, that's my double, I expect! Poor fellow !"

" Your double?" queried the canon " Your double?"

" It is the lot of every man who is much before the public," I explained, recovering my self-possession, "to have a double. Some of them are in asylums, some are not. This is an old colonist, who fancies lie is me. He came to England in the same boat. \ will persuade him to go . away quietly, if you will excuse me."

Tony looked at me in horror. He saw I meditated flight. But what could I do? 1 must get away and drown myself at. all costs, and he must get out of the scrape as best, he could.

But on the stairs I had an idea. It was a bold one. I went, into the library, and there confronted a great, bearded giant. "Mr. Ferrers?" ho said. "I beg you won't leave the table on my account." "You mistake," I replied. I am Harkaway, the great traveller." He considered me curiously for a moment. "Indeed?" he said slowly. "I rather thought that T myself—" Thou I explained the whole mailer to him. dwelling touchingly upon Tony's affection for his native isle.

Harkaway was quite nice about it—really the morality of some African explorers seems to be sadly ( wanting. He said I had got him off an engagement that, was going to bore him, and he would let it rest at that if 1 would have supner with him later on at the Savoy, and bring Tony, the home-loving patriot, with me.

So I returned to the dining-room in triumph, and salved my conscience by telling the bold truth. "He has gone," I told them. "I said I was personating him for a joke. Luckily lie took- it as such. A sad case—the effects of our climate and general conditions." Mrs. Ferrers looked anxiously at Tony, and a little later I knew he was "saved.

After dinner the canon was called out on business, and Tony led me off to the billiardroom. There we both drew a long breath, and I had a long drink. I felt I had earned it. But we had to make a pretence of playing when we heard someone approaching the door. It v was Maisie. "Shall I mark for you, Mr. Harkaway?" she said.

"You are too good. lam a shocking player," said .1.

"I daresay you don't get much practice— on the banks of the Colli-Colli River." she remarked, sympathetically, with an odd shake in her voice.

'Tony and I exchanged glances. Then "you haven't told the mater?" he shrieked, and ran oil' to ascertain the answer to his question, for his sister was beyond speech for the moment.

"I think I like you better," she said a minute later, while I stood in silent dignity, waiting for her laughter to spend itself, " i. think I like yon better, Mr. Wilmot, in the part of Joseph Surface." That is the worst of being a celebrity. Mure people know Tom Pool than Tom Fool know

''If it hadn't been for his—help," pleaded Maisie, three months later, in the course of a stormy interview that we had with the canon— *' if it hadn't been for his help that night, Tony would never have gone into that motor-car business where he is doing so well. He might have been at the bottom of the Golli-Golli River by now." "There is no' such river in # existence." said the canon angrily, "I have looked at the map, and there is no such river, I give you my word." " But, dad, dear," cooed Maisie, soothingly, •' that is not a very serious grievance, now, is it?"

And I think, I really think, that Canon Ferrers is beginning to realise that Maisie is right.