FICTION.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1291, 26 November 1896, Page 41

FICTION.

PADDY THE LEAPERS PROBATION.

[By. William LINDSet.J

Patrick O'Malley is to-day as much a fixture of the cinder-path as one of the posts at the ' finish. And yet, strange as it may seem, he Attained hio present honourable position ohly J after a long and trying probation. i Ho won his spur 3 by enduring patiently ahd successfully such tests and trials as would have discouraged many a brave knight bf old. j In fact, had Paddy lived in the days when a stout heart and a strong arm were the two best Cards in the game of life, he would have been the king of Ireland at least. Pat put in his first appearance' early in the (spring of 188— > the year the track was ireBuilt. He was just over, and well I remember how he looked in his moleskin trousers and rough coat, with the queer hat on his head, and the odd little neckcloth tied tight around his neck. He stood close to six feet, was well put together ; his hair was carroty, his face red and freckled, and his eyes were small, and blue, and bright. He was engaged as a day-labourer, wheeling dirt, shovelling, raking, and I know not what else ; but busy he was from seven o'clock in the morning until six at night. He did the work of two men, for he had not learned, like the others, the knack of loafing gracefully. Indeed, I think Paddy would have been contented to have continued as he was to the age of Beventy, for the pay seemed fabulous to him, and he was living in a shower of luxuries, with meat every day, and a palatial room, eight by ten, in which to spend his nights and Sundays. But unfortunately the labour of track-mak-ing would not last forever j one by one the men were discharged, until by the first of May there were only a half-dozen left, Paddy among them, and they were expecting to be paid off in a couple of weeks, or sooner. Now there was something about the atmosphere of the college grounds, and particularly the cinder path, that suited Paddy's constitution wonderfully, and when it reached his ears that one man would probably be retained for regular work until winter, and perhaps a snug berth in the gymnasium might follow, he made up his mind to have that job. I am not sure that he made a vow, as would a knight of the fourteenth century ; but he did the same thing in his own way, and resolved, come what might, if mortal man might compass it, no labour or trial would he avoid, no care would he neglect, until 'that job' was his. He began by ingratiating himself with every man who wore a running-shoe—not a difficult tusk, for they all liked him, and found in his words and acts a never-failing source of amusement. He had also that rare tact which makes an Irish gentleman the most fascinating on earth. With Paddy it showed itself in a never-failing good-nature, a ready hand, and a wonderful faculty for remembering names and The boys Boon found out which way his ambition pointed, that he was entirely devoted to it, and a gay Jife they led him forthwith. Now, you must not think that Paddy was anybody's fool. He was green enough, but began to pick up in a wonderful fashion after the boys got at him. He became more and more handy and useful, until I began to thiuk I might do worse than to keep him after all, though not a hint did I give him of the possibility. It was on a Saturday night, when I had nearly made up my mind to give him a trial, that Paddy had his experience with the * ghostly hurdler,' his last and crowning test a test that made nothing of all that had preceded, and that tried Paddy's soul almost to the limits of its endurance. Indeed, the rough horse play and physical trials through which Paddy went I more than half believe he enjoyed as well as the boys, and he probably blundered into trapa which he clearly saw, and did not care to avoid, if they gave anybody any satisfaction. But with all Pat's courage he was as arrant a coward as ever breathed when the powers of the unknown world were arrayed against him. He believed most fiimly in banbhees, spooks, goblins, and little people. Now he was to be aßsailed where his eoul was weakest. I was at work in my little office at the gymnasium, making out some physical development charts—a tedious task which I did not enjoy, and was anxious to finish. The clock had struck nine, ten, and eleven since I had taken my neat at ihe desk, and the minute band was swinging round the track to twelve, like a tired runner on his la*t lap. The charts showed the usual small percentage of •well-developed bodies, some with no development at all, and the larger part entirely out of proportion. In some cases the unbalanced proportions deformities, as in the chart of a freshman by the name of Mason. His height was but a little over six feet, yet his lag measurement was astonishing, bettering any record in my book by nearly two inches. This extraordinary length of leg was of course taken from the body, which was like that of a boy of twelve, and upon his first appearance on the track he was given the very appropriate alias of ' Two Pieces.' He certainly had appeared when running as if there was not much more in the game than an unattached pair of legs, and with one more would have been the complete picture of the well-known heraldic device appropriated by the Isle of Man. 'Two Piecos,' lii<e many another frei-hman, had suffered an extreme'y dangdious attack of athletic fever, choosing the high hurdles for his special efforts. But although he could almost step them in his stride, without any lift at all, he was so deathly slow between, that he did poorly enough. He trained, however, in a desperate fashion, and was half daft with the idea that he would some time startle the fancy and fracture the record. Early and late 'Two Pieces' might be seen taking his flights over the hurdles, his left leg tucked under him, like a startled crane, his right dragging after, and every other stick tumbling if he tried to make time faster than a good walker. It so happened that Mason's was the last card, and I finished it only a few minutes before midnight. ~,.,. At this hour all was silent but the ticking of the clock and the snapping of the wood fire in the grate. I was just preparing to take my departure when suddenly the oppressive silence of the midnight was broken by the most horrible yell that ever assailed my ears. It fairly curdled my blood, so full of the agony of fear was it, and I sat still and held my breath until a second and a third, not less hideous, reached my ears, and then I gathered myself together, rushed to the window, and threw up the curtain. m Bv this time all was silent again, and X nait wondered if I had only imagined I looked out over the field and track, teeing nothing but the shifting shadows, more bewildering than absolute darkness, which a Half J

moon throws throttgh broken clouds. It was a particularly ghastly light; there wa3 riot a thing stirring, not even the wind, until suddenly the bending figure of a man at extreme speed emerged from the gloom, sprang up the steps with a single leap, and a second later the huge ddor beneath my <eet was shaken in a furious fashiolli

I confess to a feeling of relief as I thought of its two-indh oak plank, nail studded and heavy hinged* and knew that the assailant, whoever he was, Could not gain entrance with anything less than an old-fashioned batteringfam. 1 waß alSo a bit startled, for I could not at all make out what the trouble was. The dodr-shaking continuing, accompanied by the kicks df a foot and a series of yells, I seized the heavy poker from the hearth and hurried downstairs. When I reached the door t hesitated a moment, wondering if the man was mad, and then tried to turn the key with my left hand, holding the poker firmly in my right. In this t was Unsuccessful, so tightly was the door pressed by the frightened man outside. I shifted the poker to my left nandj ahd put my shoulder against the door ; there was a Bharp click of the opening lock, and the next second I was hurled like a bolt from a catapult by the heavy door. As I landed on my back, ' Paddy the Leaper ' appeared with the suddenness of a ' Jack-in-the-box.' He slammed the door after him, threw the bolt with a single motion, and, Blapping himself on the floor, pressed his broad back against the door, as if he feared the fastenings would not hold. For Beveral seconds we neither of us spoke, and a blooming tableau we must have been : both Bitting bolt upright, our fest almost touching, Paddy'B red face blanched and I mottled with fear, and mine undoubtedly blank and vacant with surprise. Paddy s closely cropped tod hair was always on end. and now, with the accompaniment of eyes rolling half out of their sockets, and white, trembling lips, he was the very image of fear. I came to myself first, and was beginning to ask the crazy bog-trotter what was the matter with him, when he suddenly found tongue, and broke in with a husky ' The saints save us 1 Ilowly hiven hilp us ! Pur the luve a/ God, Miather Brown, git up an' put yer fut ag'in the dure.' I slung the poker into the pit of his stomach, got on my feet, and gave him a clip on the head with the flat of my hand that would have felled a man with an average thickness of skull. The blow from the poker resulted only in a grunt, and while that of my hand relieved my feelings a bit, it seemed to help Paddy's addled brains not at all. He caught me by the leg, pulled me down, and sat me up against the door by his side as if I had been a wax doll, saying in a maundering and contented fashion, ' fc'aith, thin, Misther Brown, 'tis now we have it, an' safe we are.' 'Safe, are we? I'm safe enough; but &% for you, you howling idiot, if you lay your hand on me again, you'll wish you stayed OUtSide.' , - • -,•! At this, Paddy started crooning again, like a tomcat on a fence ; he rocked his huge carcase, crossed himself without intermission, and called on all the saints in the calendar. I was convulsed with wonder, laughter and anger—the latter most in evidence —at the undignified part I was playing in being set up like a dummy by my crazy companion. I got on my feet again, and with my arms akimbo Btood studying him a full minute, doubtful what to do, and Bomowhat anxious for his reason. Suddenly he looked up to me and asked in a loud whisper—- ' For the luve av hiven, Misther Brown, tell me, what was it ?' ' What was it ?' answered I. ' What was what?' 'Sure it was,' said he ; and at this remarkable dialogue seemed perfectly satisfied, began to croon and rock again, and lapsed into a state of ' innocuous desuetude,' as before.

Deciding, at last, that the time for heroic measures had arrived, I took hold of Paddy's collar with both my hands, shook him violently for a few seconds, and then began to bany his head against the door. It did not take many raps against the hard oak to brine into the vacant face a hint of reason, and, at last, with a good blow of my fist, which bowled' him over, I told him either to t»-ll rac at once what the trouble was, or I would open the door and throw him out.

The last threat was enough, and he raised himself to the perpendicular again, lifting his hands with a gesture, half resistance and half petition, Baying in an appealing fashion—- ' Sure, you'd not h-v the black ho.trt to do it ; an' 'tis God s truth I'll tell.' He told his ctory as follows in a hoarse whisper, growing a little louder towards the end of the tale

' 'Tis guilty av nothin' I am at all ; 'twas walkiu' home I was, all innocent an' ai.sy loike, afther a bit av a picnic at Larry Costigan's, the same thot lives forninst the junkshop by the river. I life the sthreet, tuk a cut acroost the tennis-courts to save me toime (fer late it was, an' Mrs Dooley, me boardin' misthress, locks the dure at 12), an' was afollern' the track along the str.tch, whin on the suddint I heard futstips behindt, an' whin I turned me head I saw (howly hivin guard her own) a big, white spook a-fullerin' in me track.'

At this Paddy went back to his crooning and crossing again, and I was obliged to administer another blow, and take a step toward the door, with a significant glance at the lock, to bring him back to a state of relative sanity. He gathered his senses together, and with a mighty gulp went on with h:s story. ' 'Twas in a long white robe it was, an' afther me it came ; not a-flyin', nor a-glidin' loike, nor runnin' flat at all, bnt (an' 'tis the truth I'm tellin'), but a-hurdlin' loike, though nothin' was it jumpin', but impty wind alone. Ivery toime it lept, me brith litfc me, an' I was that gone, I cud not move me fut, though plain I saw it comin' on me. Right forninst me was it, an' another sthride an' the s .ook wud hev had me in his grip, whin me brith came ag'in, I gev a shout, an' lit out, witn the spook afther. Fer awhile he hild his own, but I drew ahid, fer he was a-hurdlin' all the toime to me a-runnin' flat, an' neither spook nor divil can give such odds to a good man loike Patrick O'Malley.' Thi last sentence was given with a toss of the head and an emphasis that showed Paddy in something like his usual form, and I saw he was gradually getting back bis heart_ again. Paddy's temporary forgetfulness of his ambition was the best indication of his intense fear, for not once before had he left it out of his mind since he started on his ' quest.' I slipped to the door, saying soothingly as I unlocked and opened it—- * Well, Paddy, it must be the boys, and we'll go out and catch them at their tricks.' ' Sure we will that,' he said, rather doubtfully. When the door shut after us, for a few momenta I could see nothing ; but when my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, we started across the field to the other side of the track, where waa the straightaway over

which Paddy had seen the spook ' a-hurd-linV When we reached it, for a few seconds we could see nothing unusual, but; a little later we suddenly discovered at the same time a white figure near the finish coming towards ua where we stood, perhaps thirty yards from the start.

Now, I will confeß3 that I was a bit surprised and startled, for I thought that the only ghost was probably in Paddy's brain. When I saw the tall, white figure loom up in the darkness, I did feel a little queer, and remembered some blood-curdling stories with which a lazy nurse once ker.t me in bounds when I was a little lad of seven summers.

I could see the ghost plainly enough as he came towards us in the gloom, following along the other side of the track, walking as a hurdler would when the sticks were up and he was going to the start. I quieted Paddy as best I could, and kept a good grip on his arm. '1 he moon just now coming out of the clouds, we could see the tall, white figure plainly, the white robe ghastly in the light. The spook looked taller than mortal man, and when he paused at the start, showed a most portentous figure, as if the fissh had left the bones, and nothing but a skeleton was within. He was quiet but a few seconds, and Paddy gave a grip to my arm when the ghostly hurdler got on the mark, set himself for the stirr, put out a long spectral arm, and then suddenly, as if at the sound of the pistol, he whs off.

Three strides he took, and then up he came, lifting ia the air as over an imaginary hurdle, and a* he rose I coul I hear Paddy's breath as if drawn by a suction-pump. The spook landed with a great flutter, the white robe making a tremendous flapping, and the steps sounding crunch, crunch, crunch on the cinders. Although there was not the sight of a stick up, he hurdled sure enough, and so naturally, that I strained my eyes to discover something more than the 'impty wind.' As he approached the second imaginary hurdle the moon came out c'oar, f»nd I could see him tuck a bare foot under him, rise clumsily, and come down with an amazing display of skeleton legs. A great noise he made, and it reassured me. I was sure one of the boys was acting the role, and discovered something strangely familiar in the peculiar gait of the ghostly hurdler.

As it came c!o?e to us, Paddy began to tremble, and was gathering himself to break away and run, when a sudden fancy took me, and"l said, 'Tackle the ghost, Paddy, and the job is yours,' at the same time letting go my hold on his arm.

He hesitated but a second, just long enough to realise whet I had said, and then he was at the spook like a n\\sh, and of all the ' mixups ' I ever saw, that which followed was the worst.

Yon have seen a Punch and Judy show, and remember the wonderful struggle between Punch and the devil? Well, that between Paddy and the 'ghostly hurdler' was just such another. First Paddy's black coat was uppermost, and then the spook's white robe ; and which would have stayed there 1 cannot tell, for I pulled them apart before either had won out. When they got on their feet, and I had a good look at them, I gave a shout, for they were effigies sur* enough. On ono side was Paddy, a ragged piece of white cloth in his right hand, his left clenched and held in frint of him, in case there should be a renewal of hostilities. His coat was Bplit open in the back, also one knee of his trousers, and his cheek was scratched a* if a giant tomcat had clawed him. On the other side of me, and facing Paddy, with a look of enquiry on his pale face, was, of all men, 'Two Pieces' himself. His nose was bleeding freely, where Pat's big fist had got in a blow, and he was clad only in his night-shirt, most of which had been torn off in the struggle. After recriminations, explanations and apologies, I found that 'Two Pieces' had undoubtedly been so excited by his dreams of success on the cinder-path that they had brought back an attack of sleep-walking, to which he said he had been addicted when a boy. He remembered nothing between his going to bed and the waking up in a life and death struggle with Paddy, and we got him back into his room, not much the worse for wear. After we had tucked him safely in bed, we started back across the field to the gymnasium, for Mrs Dooley's door was now bolted beyond a doubt.

1 opened the door against which Paddy had leaned a short half-hour before ; we crossed the vestibule where I had heard his startling story, and under the stairs I pointed out an old tumbling mattress, which would make a comfortable resting-place for the night. I then took slowly from my ring tho key to the outside door, and handed it to Paddy without a word. He knew well what it meant, and his face flushed red with pleasure. No knight of old after his at arms received his golden Bpura with greater pride. He stumbled over a few words of thanks, and I left him to the contemplation of his success, alone with his glory. The days of his probation were past. 'That job ' was his at last. —' Cinder Path Tales.'