THE PUBLICAN'S TALE.

Otago Witness, Issue 2416, 28 June 1900, Page 43

THE PUBLICAN'S TALE.

(By H. W., in the Australasian.)

We were a merry circle of contented diners. Without a wintry wind shrieked and grumbled ; within a fire glowed warmly, the lamps shone brightly, and everything was 3osy as cosy could be. We had part<:l»ei\ of — and enjk>yed — a &übs! cintial, well-cooked dinner, and now the jovial wine had been round, well, more than once; so why shouldn't we be contented? Peaie was abroad, the weary detail's of business, domestic worries, etc., were all forgotten — banished till the morrow. On each man's face shone kindliness and a large love for his neighbours — and himself. "I call on Jeremiah for a speech," said timid little Car»on, now bold as a lion.

"Yes, Jerry ; come, give as a story, a reminiscence of your old vagabond days." The suggestion was greeted with a jingle of glasses and cheers of acclamation. Then Jerry Boland, the lightest-hearted wit that ever cracked a joke, who had been coaxed easily enough into joining us, slowly got upon his stout legs and began. "Gentlemen, you've been kind enough to ask me to give yerz a 1 eminiscence 'or so, and indeed I will, although maybe yell be all calling it a remin-nuisance be the time I've done. But one an ore glass before I start — I never could talk much upon a dry throat. Here's fortune ail," said he, with a smile upon his round, humorous face. "What I'm about to relate, yer honours, is as true as the Testament, which can't be said for all remin-nv.isanoei. Now, I daresay ye've all heard me say that next to a woman, the finest thing on God's earth is a horse— then man comes next, I'm thinking, with dogs a good next ; but never mind that. Well, some 18, or may haps 20, years agone I thought all that, and a bit more. Indeed, I couldn't find the will to sepaiate 'em, and women a-nd horses ran a dead heat in my fancy. At that time I had a bay mare called Daintylooks — not that she had any locks at all, at all, for her mane was hogged and her tail trimmed ?o shore that you could almost see the meat ; but that's a small matter — as game a little she-hoss as ever chewed a bit, that I used ro race all round the country-side.

"For many years I had been knocking about racecourses, mostly country ones, where straightgoers were few, and stewards, as a rule, blind : among men, faith ! that wouldn't stop short of cutting the Pope's throat — God bless him ! — if they were paid the price. And, bedad ; in the end I didn't hs»ve enough principles to fill a match-box. About this time I had a run of real bad luck with me little mare ; onest she was bumped nigh on to her head, another time she was left at the post, and then when me 'pieces' all were on her foi a great recovery she got a good run, but she was beaten half a length be an outsider that won ii«h upon half a dozen races afterwarcls right off the reel ; a 'champ' in disguise — an' bad cess to 'im. Bein r about broke, wot must I do, d'ye think?"

"Wont to work?" sugge»lecl Darcy. "Not work. It wasn't quite as bad as that, though bad enough, the saints know. No, I fell in love, and very bad I was taken, too, with the only darter of Lelmorne, the squitler. What d'ye think of that plight for a man to be in? To make me a deal more miserable, there was a big parcel of a fellow, called Tim Burke," also a-eoorting her. Now, though I pays it meself, I was thought a pretty fine figure of a lad in those days. "'lndeed!" exclaimed Cullen, incredulously. "I was that," said Jerry, poking out his chest like a pigeon ; "but this Burke was a finer still, and all the lassies for miles around used to smile their sweetest when he was about. I cursed the luck that made him pick from so many girls jußt the one I fancied myself; but looking- at the fresh face and saucy eyes of Miss Lelmorne, I couldn't find any wonder at it at all, nor more I could. One fine summer's evening. I was talking to

Miss Lelm'orne. It was one of those soft> quiet, sad sort of evenings: — you know the sort — that makes you feel as if you'd like' to go to chapel, or read poetry, or kiss a woman, the prettier the better ; and me feelings felt frothing over, like a glass of sodawater.

" 'It's over-silent ye are this beautiful evening, Miss: Lelmorne,' I says timidly, trying to make talk. Not that I felt talkful at 'all. I'd rather have kissed her coaxing lips "by far, and said levil a word, but truth was I was fearsome she'd be finding me slow, and want to leave me.

"' 'I was thinking,' she made answer, without stirring her big grey eyes, that seemed to be looking far, far away — far over where a sort of pale tomato glow marked where the sun had sat down.

" 'Thinking, now, were ye? That's good for the brain,' says I. 'Ma^ Ibe asking what, ye Avere thinking of?' "_'Te may ask,' she replies, but without telling me.

'" 'Funerals?' I asks.

" 'Go away, Jerry, now, with ye're nonsense. I was thinking of love,' she said, letting her eyes come round to me. This made me all shy, but when she looked away again I gathered up me whole pluck, and, pinching me leg hard, I said, 'Ye weren't thinking of me, I suppose, honey?' N " 'Of yo !' she exclaimed, with a toss of her pretty head. 'Get out with yer joking. Ye're a nice one to be talking lo a gir-rl of love. Why, ye can barely keep yer silly old mare, let alone a wife.'

" 'She's not an old mare — rising six is all she is — and, mind ye, she wasn't raced at all as a two-year-old. And is it only a rich maan that's allowed to be in love?'

" 'Ye've got no love for anything save -for yer Daintylocks, and I believe our buggy horse could beat her.'

"At this I grew a bit hot, and forgot to be shy.

_"'lt's yerself knows I love ye right well, Nancy Lelmorne; and for the mare, she'll be winning me more" than I'll be able to carry home next week at Correa,' I replied. 'Then will ye marry me, my jewel? Just ease my heart any pay ye will. If I can show ye £200, will ye?' " 'Pretty safe to pi-omise that, anyways.' " "Yell promise, then?' " 'I'll see,' she said, hanging down her pretty head a little.

" 'No, promise, Nancy.' " 'I promise, then, just to please ye, Jerry Rollingstone ; but I must be going in now.'

There I was, now. Daintylocks must win the Oorrea Cup, and mo la=fc £20 — all that I had between me and work — must be put on her at about 8 to 1 at least ; tlio stake would do the rest. I had small doubts about the mare. She was about fit to race for her life, she was, and the misfortunes that had been the true cause of her not winning of late being, I thought, unbeknown to most, I expected her price would also suit. I know the form of most of the horses in the race to a few pounds, and next, to the mare I gave the best chance- to Morning Mist, a grey belonging to Tom. Burke, the very same imp of hell that was after barring me way to Nancy. Truth ! I was more afraid of the grey than even of his owner's handsome face, for I began to be suspecting that with the "yellow boys' equal, my face was quite as fine as his in Nancy's mind, and that was all I was minding of. "Joy ay Heavin! If Dointylocks could do the trick for me ; if not, sure then me cake was dough !

" When the day came, I wps as nervous as a bridegroom, and me heart was a-buniping agin me ri'os with a noise like the thump of a punching-ball. Beforehand, I had given me young brother the beautiful £20 to hold, and to put op when I gave him the 'office' When the betting opened on the Oorrea Cup I went in among the ring to see how the figures were going. A horse called Dumnorix opened favourite at 2's to 1, with MorningMist at 3's and Daintylocks at 6's. ' Good,' pays I, talking to meself. ' Good, she'll lengthen a few points soon.' Then I heard 7's to 1 called about the mare. 'Hurrah! ' I says, quiet though. Presently I obssrved a rush of punters to back something. 'More fools to back Duianorix,' thought I; when all of a sudden I heard a book roar, ' Here, 3to 1 Daintylocks.' ' The devil ! It's the mare they be backing.' I went VL-p and a^ked the price of Dainlylocks. 'Two to one bes 1 price I can bet.' 'Great snakes ! Two to one ! ' I gasped. ' And what's the good at all of my paltry £20. I might as well go and buy tripe with it for all it would help me.'

" 'Here, 2to 1 Daintylocks. I'll bet 10 to 1 Morning Mist.'

" ' Ten to one Morning Mist.' The idea struck me like wind "round a street corner. 'Why not? Why not back Mist and run the mare a sehlinter? The grey,' I thought, is sure to be a trier, for Nancy is up in the stand in all the glory of smoke-blue ribbons that matched her grey eyes, and to be sure Tom Burke would like to win the Cup with her awatehing, fond though he be of silver. All's fair in love — and hoss-racing — and good luck to 'im (this time). May Burke win.' And so me last golden nest-egg went on Morning Mist, and I had a loan of young Croxton's ear before he left the paddock on the mare. " 'It's meself that'll teach them bold pun-

ters to forestall a poor man, I will that, I muttered, grifuiing up one side of me cheek a* the smartness of it — all the same feeling a littlo nervous about the result.

" ' They're off! ' cried the crowd, quick and short, ' and Daintylocks is leading.' '' 'And she's pulling like a tug-o'-war team, the little beauty,' said a big fat farmer next to me.

" ' Yes, she won't be leading very long, neither,' thought I, feeling superior at being behind the scenes. For I saw Morning Mist run up to her, pulling hard, too — very hard. But the rest of the field didn't seem able to get near the leaders, not near enough to get . the dust from their hoofs. My chance began, to smell good. Round the turn into the straight the pair of 'om swept,, the mare leading, but Burkes hoss close upon her flank. ' liegorra ! ' I whispered, ' it's time she began to retire, it is. What the divil does Croxton mean be making such a rase of it? Ah, now I can see him start to knock her back. Look at t'.ie cunning young pup. Look at him, "bumping about the saddle like a bag of praties. But by all the Saints, what i what ! what is the boy on the grey doing? Mother ay Moses ! there, with me own glasses, can I sea him hitting his boots ; divil a blow is he hitting the grey. Oh, Peter. Peter Croxton/ I groans, 'beat the thafe at his own game, good lad for ye. Good lad again,' I says, asthe grey races up to her girths, then on, inch by inch, up level with her head. 'Peter, Peter, I'll name me first child after ye, even if it's a girl.'

"Daintylocks wins! The grey! No, the mare, I tell you ! Daintylocks ! Mist, Mist ! ' yell the crowd.

" And, truth to tell, both jockeys were now making what seemed to the country public wild efforts to win ; but meself could spot with half an eye that they were trying desperately hard to lose. Both were bumping about iii their saddles, no doubt hoping to knock their mounts out of stride. Locked together, nose to nose, they came to the post, bu£ in the very last couple of strides- the boy on Mist, barefaced as ye like, snagged the grey's mouth, and little Daintylocks's nose poked in front as the line was passed. "'Oh, hang!' I moaned, feeling- as if I'd like to fight every mother's son on the course. ' Oh, hang the course, and hang me hoss, and hang meself, too. Oh, Nancy, Nancy, I've lodt ye entirely, lass.'

'A great finish. I'd walk ten miles in tight boots to s?e the like of that agin,' cried the fat farmer, slapping me on the back. He'd backed Daintylocks.

I'd like to iiniah ye, I would,' snarled

" ' Key, what ! What's that ? " " 'Oh, go and chase yerself, I replied, sud« denly bringing to mind that I'd be expected to look pleaeed.With an effort I smiled like- a tin of worms, and walked down to the stewards' enclosure. But young Croxton seemed to have been so knocked up with his mdeavours not to win that the mare took him round to the bark of the course before he conlcl pull her up, when he collapsed on her neck, as though beaten fov wind entirely; and it. was some time before he returned to the en- - closure. Then he jumped on the scales with, a sly little grin on his dried-up, old man's face.

" ' Seems mighty pleased with himself — more_than 1 am,' thought I.

"lie was a long time weighing in. Then the clerk of the scales fussed round, and whispered something to one of the stewards as though something was wrong. In a minute I heard a murmur go round that made me start, as if I had been standing- on an ant-bed, with a bag of lollies in me pocket.

' ' ' Short weight ! O the powers be praised. ! So T nut on an important air and hustled up to the machine.

" ' What's this? What's wrong at cM, at all? " I asked.

" 'Your boy can't draw the weight. Pounds short.'

" 'Oh, dear me ! Oh, dear me ! Just me luck.'

" 'Hard luck, indeed. Boland. I'm extremely sorry for you,' said one of the stewards to me. Another backer of Daintylccks he was.

" 'It's the divil's own luck, but it's all in the game, I suppose,' replied I, blowing me nos* to hide the smile that floated up to me phiz from the bottom of me heai't.

"Yo sse, gentlemen," said Boland to us, "that devil's imp, Peter Croxton, seeing that Daintylocks haefwon in spite of all, pretended ho couldn't pull her up until she had carried him to the back of the course, where he managed to slip out the few bits of lead that made him short. Clever boy, that lad." A roar of laughter interrupted his story. "So you landed your stake, you crafty rascal, after all," exclaimed Parkinson. "No, Mr Parkey, I didn't." "But the stewards couldn't do anything but award the race to Morning Mist?" "To be sure, no more could the 3' — under ordinary circumstances." "In the name of all that's wonderful, what else happened?" laughed Rivers. "Now, listen, will ye. The boy on Morning Mist was a quick-witted lad, too, and, faith, to make matters very safo, he had jumped off without waiting for a steward's permission to dismount. Ye see, in an idle moment, Nancy Lelmorne, for want of something better to say, had told Burke that

Daintylocks would win tlie race in an amble, bo, being a cautious young man, he'd stiffened his grey, and backed the little mare. So the party dwning the third hoss claimed the race — and, what's more, got it, they did." "Poor, dishonest Jerry," cried we, spluttering wilh laughter. "The way of the transqressoi is hard," spoke Pvivers. ''And I suppose ths fair Nancy married Burke?"

"Well, I was just after telling yez. After this last blow, feeling as small as a shrivelled pea, I left the convincing ground. Convincing ground ! Bedad, it had convinced me. That night, as I walked in a quiet part of the town, I heard someone behind me say 'Jerry.' It was Nancy, sure enough. " 'At yer service, Miss JLelmorne.' " 'If 6 Miss Lielmorne this even,' she said. 'Indeed, yer mighty proud since yer won the Cup thie day — although ye did lose it afterwards.' " 'Well. I" told ye the little mare was good enough, didn't I returned, trying to get some wee scrap of credit out of me misfortunes.

" 'Ye did that, sure enough.' " 'That's no good now, though. I lost me ' last pound on the race. 5 , " 'Poor old Jerry,' she said, so kindly and sympathetically, that it -took away half the •pain of me loss. 'What'll-ye clo now?' '•' 'The Lord knows,' -says I, speaking the -Rrst tiling thai, come into, mebram-piece. 'Go to sea'j -I'm thinking.' " "She laughed sof tly at this, as though she ili'dn't care a eoppeiv where I went. - -. " 'Well, I'il. be after saying good-bye now, Nancy,' and I' suppose, with a soft tongue, I ought to be wishing ye good luck with Burke nov— but I don't feel it all, I don't, and that's iso. KVucy, sweetheart.' _ " " ho wants that conceited Tom Burke,' she (-...id hotly. 'I am sure I don't.' " '\v"ho, then?' - " -Can't ye guess, Jerry, ye dear old fool?' "Somehow, I did guess. "When her father Heard -of it lie wished us good luck, and set us up in an hotel, and here we are at it, now. 'And if ye don't 'believe me, ye can go out and ask Nancy, now — ye'U find her putting the kids to bed. . But, hist, not a word to another soul outside about this. Here's a. thousand a year and, a deer park, gentlemen," said Jerry, draining his glass.