MARIAS DERBY SWEEP

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1507, 17 January 1901, Page 24

MARIAS DERBY SWEEP

(Prom the “Pioneer Mail.”) Maria asked me to buy her a ticket in the Yacht Club Derby Sweep. Maria is my wife. I got her the ticket, and the no® de plume ,she chose was “Horse Shoe.” She explained that a horseshoe was• an emblem of luck, and, therefore, as no one else in the Bombay Presidency was likely to have thought of that she was practically certain of the sweep. I applauded her as befits an affectionate and not too-long married husband, but I shall not’ do so another year. It wanted just six weeks to the day appointed for drawing the sweep, and I venture to say that never for one whole hwr did Maria ever forget about her ticket, or cease to wonder how much the first horse would be worth. Every morning her first remark was, “Only so many more days to the sweep7’ She spent hours copying and rearranging a list she was compiling from the Amy and Navy Stares'* .book, of things to be bought the day after the race; a large number of them were .presents for me (bless her heart!) but 1 thank heaven the Stores do not give credit, or Maria would assuredly have bought the things beforehand. Maria woke me up one morning about an hour earlier than usual to impart an important piece of information. “Fred; dear,” she said, “I’m sure we shall win the sweep! I put my nightgown, on inside out by mistake last night, a.nd slept in it so; that means good hack, and I don’t know what other good luck we could have.”

In the evening Maria, said, “I have asked the Beards and Pasleys to dinner next Monday, Fred dear ; and you might ■take this note to Mr Bloggs (a* youth in

my ofiß.ce) in the morning; I always like to have a spare man.” Now, only a lew more days before Maria ancf I, in solemn committee on ways and means, had decided that we could not afford to entertain, and would only dine tnose_ whom we had dined with. Neither the Beards nor the Fasleys had fed us ; therefore, there was perhaps a trifle of .surprise in my tone when I said"—“But, surely, Maria, we agreed only to dine those who had dined us V* “Don’t shout!” said Maria (she always says this when she has nothing else ready), “the people next door will think we are quarrelling, and its so had for the servants to hear you bullying me.”

“My dear girl,” I replied in a subdued whisper, “don’t talk such rot! Why do you suddenly want to have these people we hardly know to dinner ? I*m sure I’ve no objection if you have any good reason for asking them.” ‘That’s just like a man!” said_ Maria ; “I think it’s very mean of you wfien nearly all the things I’ve —I’m going to buy out of the aweep money are for you ; one little dinner won’t make any difference, and what’s the good' of having a new dinner frock if one can’t wear it ? And we’ve already returned all the dinners we owe.”

“My dear Maria,” I said, in the satisfied tone of one who has at last got 'the best of 'an argument, “it only last week you declared you could not dine with my d 1 pal Jones Because you had nothing to wear.”

“Yes. dear,” said Maria sweetly, “hut I haven’t shown you my new frock. I’ll put it on this evening, and you shall see how lovely I look! I was awfully lucky to get it from Mrs M. She had just brought it out from home and has to go into mourning, so can’t wear it. It fits me oeautifully, and she has let me have it for R 5.150, not half-price, and she does not want the money till after the Derby.” . I nearly called Maria a- fool, but she looked so pretty ana was so satisfied with her explanation, that I kissed her instead, and leaving my house got into my cart and transferred any little irritation I may have felt to the back of my pony. The Derby Sweep was to be drawn on the 27th. Maria discovered l a. large white mark on her thumbnail on the 25th. This she told me was a gift, and

pretty well proved the sweep was hers, for, as she said, -what else could it be? She suggested we might take a house on Malabar Hill, but I ventured to point out that the value of the first horse in the sweep was usually three to tour thou_ sand rupees; I hate throwing cold water on Maria’s plans, it disheartens her so, and besides, as she says, one can do a good deal with three thousand rupees. However she consented to wait till the race was over before giving our landlord notice; Maria is as prudent as she is pretty. Maria found out that telegrams were sent to the drawers, of the first six

horses in the betting, and she gave the butler strict orders that all telegrams were to be brought straight to her. The fatal 27th arrived. I had a tiring day in office, came home, and found Maria radiant, but agitated; she had completed a new list from the Stores’ book, and expected a telegram at any moment ; she wanted ito know if she could draw the money that day. We were ,in the verandah, and_.Maria saw a peon coming up the drive with a. yellow envelope in his hand. She flow to meet him, tore the missive from his hand, and came back breathless to me. I was positively getting excited, too ; Maria tore it open. I looked over her shoulder. “Dr to' Burnham Thomas _ and Co. Es 432-11-3,” Maria gasped! “It’s all wrong, dear!” she said. “I’ve only been inside the shop three times.” “That c-omes to exactly Its 144-3-5 a visit,” I replied. I can be very sarcastic at times, and I am quick at mental arithmetic. I intended to make a long pause here to let the sarcasm take effect on Maria, but it was spoilt by a real telegram this time, from young Bloggs, who I afterwards found had yielded to my wife’s, persuasion to attend the drawing and see fair on her behalf, it ran — “Sweep drawn, you; have got Diamond Jubilee.’* “I’ll pay that Burnham Thomas tomorrow,” said Maria, “and never go into their horrid shop again.” Sure enough Maria had drawn Diamond Jubilee—butt there were two more anxious days before the race. Maria got pale, she evaded me, and took to turning over her cupboards and drewers ; I began to suspect she had lost the ticket; on the morning of the trace she accused me of having taken it, or if I had not, then the ayah had. She was quite certain that she had puit it in the box with her new hat, because nobody would think of looking for a sweep ticket there. I was unmanly enough to remind her that I had offered to keep the ticket for (her in any cash-box. but had been told that she was quite capable of taking care of her own things. This remark convinced her that it /was I r not the ayah who had taken the ticket. “Do give it to me, Fred.” she pleaded, “it’s much too iserious to joke about.*’ I was quite touched. I hadn’t got the ticket, and puit my arm round her waist to console her, but she wreniched herself away, and tore my finger on a pin concealed somewhere in her waistband. “I wish to goodness you wouldn’t stick pins all over yourself,” I grumbled, showing any bleeding finger. “T believe you only do it to annoy me.” “Clever boy!” said Maria, with a smile, “you’ve found it! I remember now. I pinned the ticket in there to keep it safe, as I thought the ayah had seen me go to the hat-box too often.” So Maria won the Yacht Club Derby Sweep, and I looked forward to a week of rest. Next day when I returned from office Maria was sitting with the daily paper in her hand and a troubled expression on her face. “How much did you say the sweep was worth, Fred ?” she asked. “Three thousand six hundred rupees, ■dear,” I replied for the thirty-ninth time, since she won .it. “Well.” said Maria,, with deliberation, “I do think you are a fool. Why didn*t you tell me about the Calcutta one, where the winner gets Rs. 98,000; here it is in the paper?*’ and she handed it to , me indignantly; “and I might just as easily have won that.” Maria still thinks that I deliberately

swindled her out of its. 94,400. She has spent her winnings .twice, hut in her own mind has still about Ills. 3000 left. Another win will ruin me.