SCRAMBLEPIPE TRIES TO UNDERSTAND.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVI, Issue 14250, 22 December 1909, Page 5 (Supplement)

SCRAMBLEPIPE TRIES TO UNDERSTAND.

It was the twenty-fourth of June. The twenty-fourth , of June is Midsummer Day. Screwworm said to Scramblepipe : " Christmas is coming." Every gnome had a vast respect for Screwworm. When Screwworm spoke, everybody listened. When Screwworm asked a question,,everybody thought, reflected, took a turn round the garden, or sat with their heads in cold water, before making an answer. Screwworm, in short, was immensely wise. *N'ow, the only gnome who was not in his heart convinced of Screw worm's wisdom was Burrowjack. Burrowjack was a, light fellow. Once a week he had a punning day. It was the same day as Mrs. Burrowjack's washing-day. She filled the house with steam ; he tilled the air with puns. When Screwworm said to Scramblepipe 011 Midsummer Day: " Christmas is coming," Scramblcpipe immediately leant his brow.upon his hand and plunged into profoundest thought. • He knew that there was .something deep in tie idea. Screwworm had uttered it. ' • " Burrowjack, who was sitting. a toadstool outside the cave, blowing bubbles with soap-water from his wife's wash-tub,*prick-cd up his ears and listened. "I can't get it," said Scramblepipe. after a long meditation. "I'm sorry, Screwworm ; ; it's stupid of me, but 1 can get it. Christmas is coming. No ; I don't follow you. Perhaps if 1 went out, took a Turkish bath, and lay clown for an hour or two, it might come to me and I' might understand.". - ■ .... "There isn't time,". said Screwworm.' "Scramblepipe, make yourself easy. This is not a usual thought. It surprises me. It's tremendous!" ■ . ; ■ " Then I give it up," said Scramblepipe, with a grateful sigh. "It is," if I may say so," said Screwworm, "one of those ideas which come to the brain of only the wisest, and that only once in a million years.. Be quite easy, Scramblepipe, but reverent; I will explain. Christmas is coming because summer is going. , If summer is going, Christmas must be coming. Now, in a certain sense, it may be argued that, while summer-is ■ here, Christmas cannot be here, too. But that is not my point. Summer undoubtedly, is here, as much' here, as any one thing can ever be said to be, here at all. But, what is Here? Have you ever seen Here'? Have you ever taken it in your hands, examined it, punched : its head, heard it squeak, or

counted its waistcoat buttons? Has it got waistcoat buttons? We are in profound ignorance. Scramblepipe, I will let you into a secret. I don't believe there is any such thing as Here."' It's coming to me," said Scramblepipe thoughtfully. "Now, if Christmas is coming," continued Screw worm, "it. is something that is alive and real. Far from going, it is coining. The two movements are as different, as life and death. If summer is going, it is something mortal; if Christmas is coming, ,it is something immortal. If wo stay here waiting,-while something is going, we shall be left." ... . , " Oh, I feci as if I am being tickled all over!" exclaimed Scramblepipe, interrupting. " I've nearly got it, nearly, almost, practically got it ; but not quite. It eludes me, just as 1 think I'm certain of it." " A thing that is going is censing to be; a thing that is coming must exist, to be coining," said Screw worm. Scramblepipe leaped to his feet. "Got it! Got it!", lie cried excitedly. He • began to dancesinging, grinning, laughing, cackling, and whistling. Suddely, he stopped, dead, his face livid. " Screwworm," he said, "it has "one!" ° % "My point,'! said ■ old Screwworm, "is this : a thing that is coining must have a place from which to come.' If, instead of waiting for that thing to come, we go to the place from which it is coming, shall we not be in the possession of something that is never going at all? In other words, if—" Scramblepipe buried his head in his hands. " Come with me," said Screwworm kindly ; " I will'show you what I mean." They rose up and went out together. " Can , you tell me," said Burrow jack, "who bade the held farewell? I am speaking of the bird. Say it over slowly to yourselves, thus : Whobadethe field fare—well." " His mother," said Screwworm, " for no one else would take the trouble to do so." . " No," replied Burrowjack. " Beautifully no. The answer is Adieu drop." " Burrowjack," said Screwworm, " leave this sorry jesting, and hear my words. We go to discover Christmas." ■ [ For many days and nights these intrepid explorers journeyed across the earth to find Christmas. Weeks and months passed. Their clothes were in rags, their shoes were worn to shreds, their legs were so stiff that they could scarcely lift their feet. But still they journeyed on. : 1 Courage said Screwworm, "courage! All we need is courage." " "It's certainly a splendid idea of yours," said Scramblepipe. "It takes time to come to it; but it's a magnificent idea !" ! One day they arrived at a place where snow was falling. _ Their eyes shone with enthusiasm as they saw it. i "I feel," said Screwworm, "like a king approaching his coronation. Columbus discovering America is not nearly bin enough for my feelings"

"I never saw such a splendid country in my life!" exclaimed Scramblepipe. "You can feel the : very air is Christmas, can you not?" " I can smell it!" cried Scramblepipe, with enthusiasm. They travelled on. Night fell. The whole earth was buried under snow. Above this white earth the sky was glittering with stars. An immense moon shone through the trees. The moon looks very different," said Screwworm.- " There's no man in it, for one thing," said Scramblepipe; "it smells different." i They travelled on. and on until suddenly they heard a horn blow in the distance. Screwworm fell on his knees. His face was dazzled with ecstasy. He waved his arms above his head. "My idea he exclaimed. "My idea ! I thought of it! Alone I got it! Oh, what it is to be a thinker!' Scramblepipe cried : "It is a horn of Christmas!" . Screwworm rose. " This night the dream of my .existence is realised. We have penetrated into the unknown. We have conquered Time. We are in the very land of Chirstmas!" The horn blew again. ' . . " Santa Claus is calling us!" said Scramblepipe. They went on with joy. " Think, Scramblepipe, think of that foolish Burrowjack, sitting on a toadstool, and waiting, waiting for Christmas to come to him!" They rubbed their hands and laughed. At last, they came to the place from which the horn had sounded. They started and turned a little pale. ■ • " I seem ,to know this spot.,"- said Scramblepipe suspiciously. Screwworm admitted : It certainly has a miserably familiar look about it." "Why," cried Scramblepipe, "it's eld Cuddledick blowing the horn!" "It certainly looks like it," said Screwworm, whose face was green. "My dear. old boy,", exclaimed Scramblepipe" suddenly, "do you know where we are?" * , • L "i do."; " We are at home!" "Too true!" Home—in our own land, in our own country, -in our own territory, •in our own neighbourhood !" They entered the cave, and sat down. "Hallo said Burrowjack. "Where have you . been? Oh, I forgot! You've been to Christmas. How did you find the old gentleman?"' " Gentlemen,'" said Screwworm, " I and Brother Scramblepipe have been ■ upon a scientific exploration. We have made an amazing discovery. , I will tell it you." "Not at . Christmas! Not at Christmas!" pleaded all the gnomes, holding their heads. But Screwworm heeded not their pleading. " Gentlemen," he said, solemnly and cilessly, " the World is Round i"