COALS OF FIRE.

Otago Witness, Issue 2812, 5 February 1908, Page 90

COALS OF FIRE.

By M. E. Newton (author of ''Mr Meakin's Money Box,' etc.) "She ain't exae'ly 'ands&me, your sister-in-law," remarked Mr Gubbina. "'Andeome !" sneered Mr Pon&, with a jerk of his toualed red mane, "with 'er squint, an' 'er yaller face. An' that big! 'Ead an' shoulders taller'n me, she is, 'cad an' shoulders !"' It was in the tap room of the Blue Pig ; the object of the discussion was Jim Meakin's elderly and widowed sister-in-law, Lydia. Mt Meakin did not seem to recent these remarks bo much as one might have thought he would. He merely cast a reproachful glance in the direction of Mt Prog, and went on sipping pensively. That - the aforesaid Lydia should be a head and shoulders taller than Sampson Prog was not wonderful, seemg ' that he tell short of sft, and looked even less, being rathei Inclined to lengthen sideways. "'Andsome, indeed!" he repeated. " 'Andsome jis as 'andsome does,'' observed Mi -Salve from a remote corner pi the room. Mr Meakin lowered his mug. "Wot I say is *' and he paused impressively — " 'andsome is >as 'andsome 'as. Ad' me pore brother, on 'is deathbed, 'c Bes, sas 'c, 'Lydia,' 'c ses, 'I'm a-leavin' &f yer in good 'ands. With Jim to look l3,rter yer an' that 'ere five 'undred pound ■yrot I've saved,' 'c says, 'yer'U never .jrant.' " For some seconds there was a dead silence in the tap room, and Mr Meakin with a tear in hfe eye resumed the sipping. Mr Prog leaned forward in his chair, and his ferret eyes narrowed to pink slits. "D'you mean ter sai, " — and his voice was strangely husky — "that your Lidyer 'as five 'underd pound of 'er own?" Mr Meakin ehook his head mysteriously. "I mean tei say nothin'. I wouldn't |Ufe anyone 'ere ter be misled by anythin' J/d 3aid. I'm on'y a-tellin' of yer wot I oyjr'eard." His voice trembled. "But I oKn't bear to, think of it, even now."' Again a dead silence, the silence of a profound sympathy. When Mr 'Meakin nad recovered he went on : Wot I'm afraid of," mournfully, "is ■that Lidyer'U fall inter bad 'ands arter Sal. There's that young Jack Piggot Invitin' 'isself ter supper nowadays." Mr Prog's' brow clouded. "Ho, 'c does, does 'c? An' Tyer think ladyer ?" Lidyer," replied Mr Meakin, "Lidyer fjeems hundecided, hundecided. i Mr Plggott 'as black 'air, an' me sister, bein', as ater might say, a woman of taste, 'as a fancy for hauburn 'air. Then, again, Pigs a reg'lar lampost, and Lidyer inpTaaes to a man wot 'as a bit o' flgger like." Mr Prog's eyes gleamed ; he patted his oaitfoty locks, and inflated his chest with X>roud satisfaction "Looks does make a difference," he observed modestly. Mr Meakin referred to his mug, and continued : "Why, on'y larst night, arter Piggot 'ad gone, we was talkin' about looks, an' Lidyer, she ses, 'Give me a man," she ses, wot look like~a man, an' not like a yard o' pump wateri Now, khat nice Mr Prog, as you brought in ter tea one day, there's a, figger for yer !' n "Ho, she did say that, did she?"' Mr Prog swelled till the armchair seemed almost too small for him. "An' wot did you say?" Mr Meakin looked sorrowful. "Why, I said as 'ow I didn't think 'Sampson Prog'd ever marry a widder." "An' wot call 'ad yer to go an' say a thing like that? - 'Ow does yer know my feelln's concerning widdere?" Mr Meakin's face expressed surprised pon-trition. "Why, -M- - Prog, yer surely don't mean " "Yes, I do," said Sampson, .Taxing enthusiastic, "if your Lidyer 'd 'aye me, I'd marry 'er termorrer ! " Mr Meakin almost felJ on Mr Prog's neck. "Oh, Sampson, Sampson," he cried, "now I know our Lidyer '11 fall inter bafe \»iids! I know yer'U take care of 'er, me pore little skter!" The widow Meakin, by the way, was two inches short Of six feet, and turning grey. Suddenly Mr Prog's face lengthened. He a«ratched his head. "Wait-«a bit," he said, "'ow about '"Ow about 'ow much?" asked Mr lUiS* '^*t!M» Blackman. 'Er father 'as a •tv^SaPOTer's shop in 'Igh street. Yer p*' 'tfrv noticed "he 'ooked sheepj *ify round the 100m — "yer may 'ay notice i fv# beej? keepin' comp'ny with 'er of lat*.* "'"• "Oat 'Unery saw yer," observed Mr Sal vow "It II be a bit ork'ard explainin' things to 'ef." mused Mr Prog. Mr Meakin cam* \o the rescue. * "Sampson, brother," he said maarnsninnously, "set yer mind at rest. I'll see the gell myself, an' arrange matters so as 6he'll nev*r -'aye no call ter Teproach yer." Such kindness amazed Mr Prog. A suspicious gleam crept into his eyes. "Wot for are yer a-doin' all this 'ere?" lie queried, "me an' you 'avin' never been exiid friendly, so ter speak?" '■(Sampson,' 1 said Mr Meakin slowly, "da you retk'llect 'ow you cut me out with Maria Jinks, as w<\s barmaid at the -wan?" Mr Prog wiigglerl uneasily in his chair, tint made no reply "And 'aye you "caul." continued his jfiuondam rival, "'aye \ou ever 'eaid 'ow

the 'Oly Scripter tells yer ter 'cap coals of fire on yer benemy's 'cad?"

"1 b'lieve I 'aye," muttered Mr Prog

Mr Meakin stood up, his face glowing with enthusiasm of an early Christian martyr.

"Well," he burst out, mildly waving Lie empty mug, "this 'ere is coals"of fire, coals of fire!"

"Jim," said Mr Prog brokenly, "yer are an 'ero, a reg'lar 'ero!" And in the joy of his heart, he stood drinks all. round. The following evening, Mr Prog dropped in, "accidental like," at Mr Meakin'fi. The widow was extremely affable, and insisted on his remaining supper. About 7 o'clock Mr Meakin suddenly remembered that he had a little business matter to attend to, which it would be as well to see about before dark. He said he was sure Sampson would take- care of Lydia till his return. In an aside to Mr Prog he suggested that it was a good opportunity to arrange matters with Blackman'6 Tillie. Then, seizing his cap, he swung himself across the threshold, and in the direction of High street. Mr Prog found the widow very easy to entertain ; indeed, they got on so well together that there is no need to record their conversation. Mt Meakin, returning at 9 o'clock for supper, found them holding an animated discussion as to the relative meiits of rubies and garnets in engagement rings. While the widow was busied in the pantry, Sampson inquired how he had fared with Miss Blackman.

"Oh, first rate," replied Mr Meakin, "She didn't seem to care a pin!" Mr Prog felt distinctly relieved, and said so. On second thoughts, however, lie did not think he felt quite so pleased ..'He thought she might have shown "a bit more feelin' for a fel'-er."

"Well," said Mr Meakin. "she may want a bit o' con&olin' ater all." For quite a» week, the tap room of the Blue Pig saw nothing of Mr Prog; with his red hair neatly cropped, and a flower in his button-hole, he devoted all his evenings to the courtship of the gentle widow. On these occasions, her brother-in-law most obligingly absented himself, so as to give Sampson a free hand. Once, returning home, Mr Prog came upon Mr Meakin in High street, waving adieux tf> a slender figure in the bay window over a fruiterer's 6hop. The head of the figure was adorned with Hinde's curlers, and touched a familiar chord in Mr Prog's mind. In a sudden fit of anger, he crossed over to Mr Meakin. "Wot 'aye yer been a-doin all the night?" he asked roughly. The other seemed surprised at his ton*. "D'yei- mean me?" he asked sweetly. "Oh, 'I've just been a-consolm' of Miss Blackman." 7 Mr Prog's face grew ruddier than usual. "I don't know as I like your way o' consolin'," he snapped. "S'ppose yer stow it !' Mr Meakin assumed an air of injured innocence. "Come to that," he replied slowly, "1 don't know as I altogether likes the idea, o' that 'ere five 'underd pound a-goin' out of ihe fam'ly ; s'ppose " But Sampson! anger had suddenly subsided ; he shook Mr Meakin' s hand warmly, and passed on. Early the following Friday the gentle Lydia became Mrs Prog. Her brother himself with tears in his eyes shut the door of the railway carriage at Liverpool Street Station. On the Saturday afternoon Mr Meakin gave a highly descriptive account of the wedding to the company assembled in the tap room of the Blue Pig. Mr Baffle was just inquiring what coloured trousers the bridegroom wore, when the door sprang noisily open and admitted a breathless, hatless, dishevelled little man. It was Mr Prog himself. Mr Meakin rose in amazement. "Why, Sam, me boy," he said, "I thort yer was a'avin' of yer 'oneymoon?' He advanced to shake hands with his newmade brother, but was waved off in speechless anger by the perspiring Sampson. . "Y'er rat !" he snarled, "yer lyin rat ! Wot dyer mean by tellin' me that 'ere old woman 'ad five underd pound of 'er own? Wot dyer mean, I say?" "Did I ever tell yer she 'ad?" asked Mr Meakin. He looked round the room. "Gentlemen, don't /ou all rek'lleet me sayin' as 'ow I wouldn't 'aye nobuddy misled by anythin' I'd over'eard? An'," he continued sorrowfully, "if anybuddy 'ere "as been misled, I'm sorry ter 'aye ter say it, but it's 'is own fault, 'is own" fault." _ Mr Prog quivered with rage ; his brother-in-law endeavoured to console him. "Not but what," he went on, "I think married life'll improve yer. If it's on'y ■avin' 'ad yer 'air cut r" He stopped suddenly, for Mr Prog's face was almost purple. •' 'Eie, Sampson, simmer down," said Mr Salve, "ycr'll be 'avin' a fit on yer 'oneymoon !' " "E do look 'ot." sniggered Mr Raffle, "it's them 'ere coals of fiie wot's be%u 'eaped on 'is 'cad !'' The expression on Mr Prop's face was now so ferocious that Mr Meakin thought it expedient to move on. He glanced towards the open door, and pulled out his watch. "Me 'avin' an app'intment," he said sweetly, "p'raps yer'll excuse " "Wot app'intment?" roared Mr Prog, on the verge of an explosion. "Well, if yer must know,*' said Mr Meakin * nervously, "me an' Tillie was a-goin' ter look over a little 'ouse wot's ter let of! the Mile End road, an '' Mr Prog prepared to spring. At the same moment a shadow fell across the sandea floor. In the doorway loomed the gigantic form of the quondam widow Meakin. Mr Prog saw it, and his jaw dropped. In hei- right hand she held an ordinary kitchen poker. She had probably been stirring the fire, amd had brought it with her in a fit of absent-mindedness. Anyhow, bhe made no attempt to conceal it JiOW. • Sampson,"' she saidj in a deeo bats

voice. "Sampson Prog, wot dyer mean by wasting yer 'oneymoon in a low public 'ouse? Yfr've got ter do some work, djer 'ear? Come along 'ome !'' A.nd Sampson went.