UNCLE'S TENT.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LI, Issue 15551, 7 March 1914, Page 1 (Supplement)

UNCLE'S TENT.

ST OXSOCHAAR. Yes " It's good sport sleeping in a tent alright, provided it is a rainproof one. The little experience I had happened just at the end of my holiday. In fact, it was the night before I left for the city.

It happened this way : Last year Undo Phil thought he would like another summer-house to be covered with grapes. He had the frame erected, covered it with wire netting and planted the grape vines round it. Now, as you know, that little plant takes about a year to start sprouting; but once it does start there is no stopping it. So in the meantime my good relation thought of a plan whereby he could make use of that little piece of architecture during the first year. In the storeroom was a bundle of scrim, and one evening, feeling rather energetic, he donned old togs, provided himself with a hammer and tacks, and set to work covering that summer-house; or as it is more often called, the " tent." Well! This was a very fine idea of his, especially ir the fine weather, but when it rained it wa —but, you wiil-eee presently.

The evening before I left we had a sort* of farewell, which meant getting to bed sotnewh&ra about 2 a.m. But uncl4 ,ski(l, . " Oh! it's alright boy, you will i'eel as fresh as a fiddle in the morning after a good sleep outside. I almost wish I was out there instead of you" And it was not long before I wished so tod. Having, as I mentioned before, had a little party, I was extra tired—in fact, hardly remember getting to bed at all.

But the trouble started in a dream. I dreamt that I was out at sea in a small boat, and a fearful storm had come up. However, that's as far as I got with the dream, on account of waking up. But at the time I didn't know whether I was awake or asleep. It was pouring with rain and I was just about wet through. The rain came thro' that scrim as though it was mosquito-netting. For a few minutes I could do nothing but lie there in a sort of daze; but at last I began to realise that instead of being in a small boat at sea, I was " safe " in ray bed in that wretched tent. That at least, was a relief. As I lay there, something seemed to be saying to me : " It's your move next, old sport," so I thought the best thing I could do was to have a little light on the subject; but, after hunting for about five minutes for matches, the only ones I could find were a few loose ones in my waistcoat pocket, which, needless to say, were wet too. So, being of a sporty nature, I said "here's luck" and took up my bed (and anything elfc I could find in the darkness) and walked. When I got outside it was worse than ever, and the first thing I did was to loose the path, so that meant getting to the house as best I could, and that was through a prickly hedge, and across some newly-dug ground, which was being quickly turned into a huge mud-pie. By the time I reached the house those poor bedclothes had suffered badly, to say nothing of myself. All the way they would insist in getting under my feet, which was, to say the least, a very stupid thing for them to do, as it not only made them look like "wet blankets," but kept tumbling me into that swish of mud. However, I at last reached the house, minus a oouplc of blankets, a pillow. and most of mv own clothes.

At last my troubles were over! So thought I, but they were not. For some silly reason all the doors were locked, and do you think I could wake the old boy up? No! Not I! It must have been after about half an hour's solid knocking, and when I was just deciding to lio down on the verandah and trust to fate as to what happened me, when he awoke, and in a most severe tone demanded what all the row was about. When I fully <ouvinced him that it was me, or what was left of mo, he opened the door and in I went. Then the unsympathetic wretch started to make the most obnoxious sound I think I ever heard : He laughedand such a. laugh He stood there with the tears rolling down his cheeks, till he sank exhausted into a chair. 1 myself couldn't see the joke. He told me next morning that if I had taken a peep in a lookingglass 1 would have no trouble to see it.

But when he at last began to realise •he position— standing there all splashed with mud and shivering with the told—lie seemed to pull himself together a bit, and said in his usual kindly way :

'Oh 1 I'm so sorry ! I meant to tell you to come in if it looked like rain." Just like uncle, with that consoling way of his. But he really did suggest something good, and that was a hot bath ; which needless to say, I had, and then went off to a good warm bed, where I slept soundly till morning.

Well, morning came. But I think it best not to mention what those bedclothes looked like. It is enough to say that they were all consigned to the rubbish heap.

And nowadays, whenever I visit my dear relative, he never suggests sleeping in the " tent." I wonder why!