SHORT STORIES.

Otago Witness, Issue 2921, 9 March 1910, Page 89

SHORT STORIES.

A REMINISCENCE OF THE S.S. IARANAKI.

By Wilhelmina Sherriff Bain

Poor old Taranaki! Many a pretty I romance did she aid ; many a funny episode did she rollick over! Peace to her timbers: resurrected once, to go down again in. a long last evermore! She • wae steaming across Cook Strait i one lovely Sunday morning with as queer I a medley of passengers as she had ever ' carried. The ladies were in a minority, and children were seaice. But there was : Wellington's leading auctioneer, Mr ! Dobell—brisk, loquacious, making friends • with everybody. ' There was a "world- ! renowned wit and humourist"—so dej described in his handbills—a mere wisp, I with prominent 'ight blue eyes and de- ■ mented expression And there was a Melbourne publican, "doin the grand," as he. mentally styled it, in the regalia of a i much-travelled tourist. A tall raw-boned ! gentleman, with a thriving brogue, repreI sented H.M. Telegraphs; and an equally hi'cipieiit-looKing youth—who, however, was in duodecimo binding—beamed c elicity on thie his first holiday from the postal service. There were hosts of minor celebrities, and there were two clergymen. The Reverend Mr Barker was on board, daring tha dangers of the dreadful deep that he might proclaim judgment in a West Coast township. And Father Maloney was journeying to Rome, that he ; might behold Pio Nono, and grow in wel- : fare and grace. 'Nice- treatl" grumbled Mr O'Limerisk to Mr White. "Not a pretty girl on the ! boat. Bedad! what's a man to do?" I "Oil, well! 'Pon my life! Eh? oon't you think so? There's a niceish little ; thing now —just opposite. She has eyes, my boy!" "H'm; not bad!" condescended Paris. I "I'll have a taste of her quality when j I've finished this cigar." i The gentlest of zephyrs wafted nearly every word of this colloquy to the "niceish little thing.'' For a moment she smiled as &he gazed on the fast receding Terawhiti, "then again she thought of the widowed mother and. young sister who had parted from her so tearfully two hours before. - "But i shall soon send them something," Ethel congratulated herself. "I am sure I shall save quite £SO out of my salary of £BO, and I shan't mind tribulation and exile when I can help mamma so well." Brave, bright Ethel! She had worked hard in her young fiifie for small recompense, and! her heart was, glad that at length it was in her power to help, "really and truly," thoee she loved. She was scarcely pretty, but she was pleasant tc look upor , candor a; ; d intelligence were visibie in her face, and, best of all, a sunny spirit reigned there supreme So site sat, gazing on tho waters, till the peifdct beauty of the hour penetrated her being, and her soul adored the Maker and Suetainer of all. Acting on a sudden impulse, the accosted the Reverend Mr Barker, who was promenading on her side of the deck.

'■'Good-morning," she said in hex bright, frank way; "may I ask if you intend holding——" "Ha! yes, yes. Just going to see Captain Wheel. v about it," he interrupted —in a voice so harsh and pompous chat (straightway. Ethel felt rebuked for presumption. Soon afterwards she noticed Mr o'Limerick bearing down upon her, so she quietly removed to the grateful shade of the awning. Here she found herself in the companionship of Father M&loney. Remarking on the beauty of the morning, he gradually drew her into conversation. fii=> evident zeal and singlemindedness interested her so strongly that ehe had forgotten about Mr Barker, when the ungainly bulk of that cleric appeared before her, presenting her with a small

fcunday school hymn book. She accepted [ it, but was horrified to see a similar offering made to the priest. Mr Barker protruded the hymn book as lie might have held a bit of toast to the fire. Mr j Maloney resolutely stared mto space. The

hymn book was advanced an inch or two | further. Still it was ignored. "H'm—haw— will you take this j

hymn '" '•Ugh!" and Father Maloney started from his seat, stamped the dust from his feet, and marched wit.' flaming visage to the other side of tb<3 deck. Graceful and gracious Mr Barker proceeded with his distribution ; then, from a position of vantage, he inflicted a dreary and pointless discourse upon his hearers. Miles and miles of sermon were followed, by a prayei that promised to land the passengers in Picton, but which was intruded upon by a sudden "Swish-sh-sh!" The prevalence of many sounds, then only the noisv march of the insulter priest, and the" pitiless outpour of Mr Barker. At last the prayer ended. Excepting a strenuous aspiration that "We may reach *n safety out respective destinations," not a word" had been uttered—in sermor or prayer—bearing on praetica, 1 life; not a reference made to the poor stokers and sailors and the bonnie boat bearing "Us" so gallantly on. Mr Barker gave out a hymn, and led the nelody with Stentor's liins;s. A benediction was pronounced. Then the preacher collected the hymn books into his hat—irresistibly suggesting the comparison of a street singer gathering pennies. "I gave you two," he said, to a gentleman sitting near Ethel; a compact well-buit though rather short individual, with a daik resolute countenance frequently lit by kindly humour. "Yes," was the reply; "I handed one to a sailor, and he has been called away.'' "Well, I must have the book, or the cost of it."

"Certainly," the gentleman agreed with alacrity; "here's half a crown" —which Mr Barker calmly accepted and walked on.

"Fair percentage on twopence!" laughed the passenger, turning to Ethel. "Oh, I am so vexed! How could he?" she exclaimed.

"Nothing to a wolf in sheep's clothing," said the stranger. "I'm vexed, though, that we had to meet and pass the Ladybird as we did. She had the Nelson cricket team on board; I recognised every one of them, we were eo close; we could have cheered them splendidly. Yen didn't look np, young lady." "No. though I wished to!" Ethel acknowledged.

"Dreadful —dreadful! I must ask Father Maloney to make you do penance." "Poor Mr Maloney. But, indeed, I have been doing penance ever since "

"Ever %ince you desired Mr Barker to officiate," her companion interrupted. "You see I watched proceedings. You .•wouldn't have cone it." he went on "you coaldn't have done it had yon studied the man's face."

"He is coarse and mean looking," Ethel assented; ' ; but. why did you make one of the congregation?''' ' Shall I btu frank? Because I wished to bo near you."

Ethel flushed. "Oh, don't be offended," exclaimed the stranger. "Let me introduce myself, and beg the pleasure of knowing your name: then pernaps I m-iy be able properly to express my meaning."

Ethel read the card he presented—" Mr John Leigh," a name she instantly recognised as belonging to a wealthy rvinholder of the Wairau whose :harms and eccentricities some of her Wellington young lady friends loved to dilate upon. Glancing at the honest face observing her own, she saicl: "My name is Ethel Holt, Mr Leigh." "Thank you. Miss Holt, I believe I am rather singular in some ways, and sometimes do things that seem rude. I have very strong convictions; I have lived much by myself. Excuse what is abrupt, and let me- say that I really meant what I told you.. I wished to be near you. Do you believe in first impressions?" " Not at all," was Ethel's response. "I think people talk nonsense about first impressions." "Let us agree to differ MiLeigh said. Then, by some magic compelling her gaze, he proceeded: "Now, I'd like to tell you my first impression of you —but please don't run away!" " Indeed, I must go!" she answered, trying to be very grave, but just succeeding in producing two daintiest of dimples—"unless you will talk of something else." "Let us talk of John Leigh, then? He is a little peculiaT', Miss Holt; people ge* so that live out of the world as he has done for fifteen years. He has been successful in life so far as money-making goes; but he begins to feel that more than land and sheep are needed to fill up the round of existence. So he has thrown himself into society recently, hoping to meet a—suggestion of the future. He has enjoyed the change, in a fashion ; yes, I may say he has enjoyed the change exceedingly. He has seen much in Blenheim and. Nelson and Wellington that ne likes and admires; but has not yet seen the 'not impossible she' of his imagination. Until to-dav, Miss Holt—he believes he has found her to-day. Do I weary you?" Mr Leigh asked,'with sudden change of tone, for Ethel sat with averted face.

"No, oh. no !" she replied, turning her shining eyes upon him, and mentally deciding that she never could wearv of such a richly musical voice; "but don't you think you are rather romantic? Novels are full of marvellous coincidences, ueavenordained meetings of sympathetic souls, and so on. Real life is not like that." " I don't know much of. novels, Miss Holt- my reading has been strictly practical ' I only know that I never saw the woman I could wish to call my own until I saw vou." , "Mr Leigh, this is absurd! I cannot he so adfesed by a perfect stranger!

said Ethel haughtily, even though, and perhaps because, the spell of an overmastering fascination thrilled her. "Forgive me!" Mr Leigh gravely pleaded. "I am deeply in earnest. In you I see all that I had dreamed of. But, of course," he went on, in different vein, " I can't hope that I approach your beau ideal! Not tall enough for one thing, Miss Holt?"--Ethel xouU net help smiling. " No! My hero mast be Tall, stalwart, fair, Blue-eyed, brown curls - hair, Gentle, yet with a master's air, Good, brave, and wise " "Stop, stop, in mercy!" Mr Leigh cried. " But are you aware that every great man of the day is either undersized or ugly? Look at Vogel! You don't admire him? Well, take C4ladstone; he squints; and Tennyson has pendulous ears. As for Longfellow " "You unconscionable! How many more inventions are you ready with.?" "Facts ! Stubborn facts ! Ah, there's the dinner bell! May I be allowed to rejoin you directly we have dined?" But Ethel merely smiled as they parted at the companion. Dinner is the event of the day to many ocean passengers. Sharpened appetites* inviting viands, and clockwork attendance mane it a really enjoyable occasion. Then the variety of faces, so wonderfully unlike; the racy bits of conversation one cannot help hearing, amuse and interest all but the phlegmatic or the bilious. Ethel belonged to .neither unfortunate tribe ; but, under the siege of Mr O'Limerick's attentions —that connoisseur had manoeuvred himself into the seat next hers —she 'Has '.ompelled to sit in real vexation. " I will trouble you for some grapes," at last she said, when dessert came on; "they look so nice, 1 should like to taste the quality of them." Whereupon the young gentleman was seized with a distressful fit of coughing, and Ethel was suffered to enjoy her fruit.

She did not return to the deck. She could not meet Mr Leigh again. It was absurd, ridiculous ! Yet he had a beautiful voice, and he seemed sincere ; yes, she was sure he was genuine. But it was too foolish. She would not think of him. She tried to read. However, she was not grieved when the stewardess, coining into the ladies' saloon, remarked: "It's very close here this hot day. Won't you be better on deck, miss?" She allowed herself to be advised.

Nearly all the passengers were crowding on one side of the deck, heartily laughing ae they watched the uncouth frolics of a large shoal of porpoises. Mr Leigh met her on the opposite side. "Sit here, Miss Holt," he requested. " We shall reach Pict'on within an hour, and I wish to speak with . you very seriously indeed. I have just made a discovery. Mr Dobell —you'know him—lias been telling jne about your family. You lather's name was Granville Holt; my mother's was Mary Granville."

"Then they were cousins!" was joyously responded. " Mamma has often told me of Mary Granville. My poor papa and she were children together in a great old-fashioned house in Devon!" "Yes, I know all about that time, too It is many years since my mother died; yet I think I remember every word she ever said to me. She told me that Dr Holt left England for Ameiica the month before her marriage: then she heard from him m China, but lie didn't know where his ship would be ordered next, and ehe never got another letter." "fie settled in Wellingtar in the earliest days/' Ethel explained; "but he fell into weak health, and money troubles, and neither mamma nor he cared. to write Home. It is fifteen years since he died ' "And fifteen years since I came to the Wairati. Oh, Ethr-1, had I but know:>. v

"How pleased mamma will ba when I write her," sa : d the girl. "Don't write. Return to Welling!on by the first boat; that's the Wellington, on Thursday. I'll follow by the next. Shall you welcome me?" John Leigh queried, gazing into those sweet dark orbs. They filled with tears, and drooped; but he heard a whispered " %r es," and he was content.

Presently the steamer approaches lbs Picton wharf. The usual gathering stood there; the usual stampede arose amongst the comers and goecs. A large, bushywhiskered man elbowed his way along in quiring for Miss Holt. "Miss Holt is on hoard ; but she begs, through me, to cancel her engagement. Mr Brown." The tone was sternly significant.

M Brown coloured violently., b'ifc extended bis hand with a smiling "How do. Mr Leigh. You here!" The hand had to be pocketed, however, a? Mr Leigh had gone to look after Ethel's belongings and his own. "To tli.nk ycu answered that fellow's advertisement i" Mr Leigh exclaimed iatiijrnantly, while escorting Ethel <o the house of a Mrs Lindsay—"a nice old Scotch lady that would take care of her till Thursday"—"a wretch not fit to live. And lie has the most ungovernable temper. I know him too well: and he knows me The hound! How dared he!" Mr Leight was evidently very wroth. That evening Mrs Lindsay enlightened EtheJ more fully as to the misery she had ■escaped. "Eh. my lassie! he's an' awfu' man/' she told. "His puir wife—a bit leddv body puir tiling!—naebody kens she pits up wi' him. He's jist oot o' ae disgrace intae aniiher."

How happiiy those days nassed by. Seaside rambles, fcruing expeditions, and boatirp exctwsion& made. them elysian tc ih<:_ girl, who had. hitherto known little holiday., and .to the man, who had found his "twin star." "sTou sail yourself 'practical,'" .. 1 protested when first he styled her so: T wish you knar? what I think you are." "I wish the same, mad'moiselle heartily. It really is most unfortunate I'm not 'Tall stalwart, fair' ■" "Oh, s\ -.>/ J* It was Ethel who now

cried. "You are 'go'xl, brave, and wise,' and all the rest is stuff."

Five years glided blissfully over the charming home near Blenheim. Then Mr and Mrs Leigh prepared for a Europeai'i tour, which would combine business with pleasure, for the New Zealand runholder had siiooeeded to the old Devonshire estate, where hie mother and Ethel's father had been children together. They entrusted their two little sons to the loving care of Mrs Holt and Rhoda, who had become inmates of their household, and paid loyal tribute to remembrance by waiting for the Taranaki to take them over to Wellington. Amid English roses they learned that never again might they travel by their own dear boat—as they regarded her—that she belonged to their Past. But their Present claimed them, and their Future opened out in many a widening vista.