The Maiden, the Boy, and a Hat.

Otago Witness, Issue 2677, 5 July 1905, Page 80

The Maiden, the Boy, and a Hat.

—How She Got Even.— In a tiny Swiss village, behind: the angle of the sehoolhouse wall, I came Across a maiden crying bitterly, her head

resting on her arm. I asked her what had happened. Between her sobs she explained that a school companion, a little lad about her own age, having snatched her hat from her head, was at trat moment playing football with it the other side of the wall.

I attempted to console her with philosophy. I pointed out to her that boys would be boys — that to expect from them at that age reverence for feminine headgear was to seelk what was not conformable with the nature of the boy. But she appeared to have no philosophy in her. Slhe said he was a horrid boy, and that she hated him. It transpired it was a hat she rather fancied herself in.

He peeped round the corner while we were talking, the hat in his hand. He held it out to her, but she took no notice of him. I gathered the incident was closed, and went my way, but turned a few steps further on, curious to witness the end. Step by step he approached nearer, looking a little ashamed of himself; but still she wept, her face hidden in her arm. He was not expecting it— to all seeming she stood there the personification of the grief that is not to be comforted, oblivious to all surroundings. Incautiously he took another step. In an instant she had "landed" him over the head with a long narrow wooden box containing, one supposes, pencils and' pens. He must have been a hard-headed youngster. The sound of the compact echoed through the valley. I met her again on my way back. "Hat much damaged?" I inquired. "Oh, no," she answered, smiling; "besides, it was only an old hat. I've got a better one for Sundays." — Jerome K. Jerome, in To-Day.