A BAD START.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIX, Issue 21100, 6 February 1932, Page 1 (Supplement)

A BAD START.

BY ANON.

RESOLUTIONS AND A PROBLEM

Barbara said, " We must keep this New Year in the good old-fashioned way," and Paddy brightened visibly. "I3it a drap av whisky?" he murmnred seductively, but my wife stiffened. " Certainly not. E mean we must see the New Year in; sit up till midnight and then makß good resolutions." Paddy drooped. " And where would the resolvinga be getting you and they not wetted in their makin' ?" he queried plaintively, and for once I supported him. These unpleasant old customs, if observed at all, must be done thoroughly. The trouble was that our festive bottle, like all other Yuletide joys, had proved short-lived. The nearest hotel waa thirty miles away and it was already New Year's Eve. But Paddy was mysterioualy confident. " Let herself be trustin'," was all he would vouchsafe, and he disappeared as the evening advanced. Later Barbara and I climbed the hill behind the house. The night was dark and very still. Far away across the range we could hear the murmur of the West Coast bar that whispered of past storms, of storms to come. The moon had not yet risen, and upon the other aide we looked right across the black, bush-covered hills to the plain below. The air was so clear that we could see the twinkle of distant lights that meant town, civilisation, good fellowship, an hour's oblivion of the tragedy that seemed to brood over the world to-night. We started as behind us, from the naked branches of a dead rimu, there came that loneliest sound in all the world, the nightcall of a solitary ruru. From ail sides the silence of the bush seemed to stretch out and engulf us, and somewhere far below there rose the sound of a stream falling quietly over mossy stones. 111 such a stillness high hopes begin to falter and gay hearts fill unawares with vague foreboding. " What will the New Year bring forth? Can there be worse in store?" And then, shattering our fears, came a raucous shout from the sleeping house below. All at once the little windows twinkled with sudden, cheering lights, and we could see the glow-worm of Paddy's pipe as he came to the gate to look for us. " Will yon be coming, then 1" he shouted. " 'Tis surely here and the" New Year waitin'." He had achieved the miracle; and all at once Barbara began to run wildly down the hill. Nor was it the lust for strong drink that urged her on even as it urged me. We wanted noise and light and laughter—anything but the lonely hill-top, those distant, uncaring lights, the ruru's call—and that strange, threatening future. The Sleeping World. The New Year was in. We had toasted a hopeful 1932, had joined hands and ridiculously sung " Auld Lang Syne," Barbara had solemnly resolved to "darn, mend, and call upon the neighbourhood in the New Year, and I had' vowed to milk cows and keep pigs in a mercifully distant spring if prices did nob improved At one o'clock Barbara had gone to bed, but not before she had searched the house for darning wool and found a rusty needle high up on the kitchen wall. There was no need to search for clothes to mend. She merely emptied the contents of my chest of drawers in a heap upon the floor. I found the needle later," when at last I tumbled wearily into bed, but my wife merely remarked that it wag a pity to start the New Year with unpleasant language and what wag a prick anyway ? The clothes I later returned to their drawer and peace reigned again in the house. The bottle was empty at, last, and I strolled out to take one final lock at the sleeping world. The moon had risen and the whole world was bathed in its serene radiance. I looked out across the plains, but a soft blanket of mist lay snugly upon them and the lights of the little townships were all hidden in its folds. Surely a night so beautiful must prove herald of joy and peace to come ? But suddenhr all my meditations were shattered, all my senses suddenly alert and alarmed. Across the paddock, slipping along in the shadow of the dark bush, was another shadow. Something furtive and mysterious in its air made me begin to run silently after it, thoughts of escaped prisoners and wandering criminals in my mind. The pace was hot, but I gave resolute chase, and presently the man ahead left the shelter of the bush and took to the open. In the clear moonlight I had a sudden revealing glimpse of the figure and all my suspicions faded in laughter. For it was only Paddy after all. Strange Doings. * The next moment doubt assailed me again. What was Paddy doing at this hour, and what wag that strange weapon that he carried in one hand ? Certainly he had consumed the major share of "that bottle; had it rouaed him to some sudden frenzy ? Presently I saw where he was heading. He was taking the short-cut that led across the hill to the bachelor homestead of my nsighbour Macpherson. What waa the game ? Between the dour Scotchman, with hia reputation for " nearness," for secret drinking and hard dealing, and the feckless, laughing Irishman there existed little friendship. Lately this dislike had degenerated into something like a feud. Paddy had done a week's harvesting for Mac and had seen no payment. " Not the likes of a little harmless drink was there in it and he with the lovely breath of it upon him all the hot, sweating days." Paddy had vowed vengeance and I had felt uneasy. Was it possible that his warm and foolish heart had softened with the New Year and the whisky, and that he waa now speeding across the paddocks to effect reconciliation in the early hours of the New Year's dawn ? If so, I could imagine his reception. I must find him at ail costs and bring him home. But Mac's house loomed dark and silent and nowhere was there any trace of Paddy. Surely the dark and watchful night had swallowed him. I wandered round the sheds and outbuildings that were scattered about and presently I heard a strange insistent noise. There was no stream near, and yet the steady trickle wa3 unmistakable. I peered beneath the shed where my neighbour kept his stores. It was raised high on piles to protect it from the attacks of rats and vermin. In the dark beneath I could faintly distinguish a pair of legs. Even as I watched they began to squirm. Very slowly, very cautiously, like some mammoth snake Paddy crawled out from the dust and gloom; nor wag his caution unnecessary, for in his arms he bore tenderly a large enamel jug of whisky. The Problem. I got the truth from him at last. Rumour had told him of Mac's keg of whisky, securely locked .in the store. Inventing some message from me he had penetrated to the sacred precincts when its master was there, had located tho cask, had counted the planks in the floor. The rest had needed only darkness, a gimlet and jug, a stout cork. And there wa3 Paddy with a widow's cruse to tap at will! Remonstrance was unavailing. " I will be taking the equals of the wages he is owing me; no mora, no less. And the saints he thanked, the floor ia of wood and not of that hard and cvuel concrete," my henchman said doggedly, lie has justice, if not morality, upon his side, and 1 am still confronted by the first problem of the New Year. Shall I send Paddy away and thereby make life incredibly more peaceful, unspeakably duller than before? Shall I warn my neighbour and thereby probably incur suspicion upun my blameless head ? The problem ia » nice one and teems with difficulties. On tho whole, 1932 made a bad start.