DICKY BECOMES INITIATED.

Otago Witness, Issue 3443, 9 March 1920, Page 66

DICKY BECOMES INITIATED.

By Noble Mathiesost. k [All Rights Reserved.] . . "And it ain't the girls that wear the finest feathers that are the best girls always, Dicky?" Bandy Grainger winked knowingly at his companion as he spoke, and puffed a cloud of cigarette smoke into the air. "But 'she—well she's made for pretty gee-gaw things, Bandy. You don't understand—"

"Poof! Don't I? Do you think I've never seen a girl before?" ' "No—No—but she's a real nice little girl, Bandy. You wouldn't think of her wearing a rough coat like that thing of yours, would you?" "You can't compare the two, my boy," Bandy returned loftily. "You ain't experienced in these things, Dicky," he continued playfully. "Girls are a sort "of difficult subject to understand, sonnie." Bandy Grainger was 25, and with the wisdom that comes with maturity of years. Bandy oould speak with authority. And Bandy had had: lots of girls. And, furthermore the girls liked. Bandy. Dicky with his "inexperience" of 20 years, gazed along the 'dusty road towards the sleepy little town, wherein stood a neat, brick house on a hillside. Perhaps that was not the most important structure j it may be scarcely worthy of notice, but at the' present moment it was by far the most important to Dicky, "What do you suppose, Bandy, is the best way to go about it?" he said at last. rt Aboiit What?" Bandy spoke nonchalantly,, "You know what I mean—l've—you know—sort of taken a fancy to Millie Denniston,.'

"You heave? Ah! well, there's lots of ■ways and means, Dicky. You see, she mightn't like you at all, Dicky boy, and even though you got a nice introduction and worked things as gently but as energetically as possible-r-why—well she mightn't take a bit of notice of you." "That's it! . She mightn't." "On the other hand, Dicky," Band waved his hand majestically, "you mightn't like her."

"That's so," agreed Dicky. "But the girls are generally pretty easy to manage. I don't think you need worry about that, Dicky. Evenings to the pictures, and the theatre, and nice dainty boxes of chocolates—you know the kind with the pictures and* ribbons on the outside—and nice little strolls by the sea when 'the night's too delicious to be indoors,' and all that sort of thing." "Yes, I think I could do the job all right, Bandy." "Yes, Dicky, as I said before, it's not the girls that the bothers with; its the dads."

"But that's surely all right, Bandy. I could soon let him know that my family's all serene, good name and all that." "Better not say anything about your people much, Dicky. You see, if you said who you were and that your pater was well-to-do, they'd think vou were only talking. You see, they wouldn't believe that you were down staying with your poor relations—people with money don't usually do that. Lood here, Dick, your mother is just a woman in the thousand. Did it ever strike you?"

"She's decent, Bandy. »And you think I'd have bother -with the girl's governor? What is he, anyhow?" "A retired army officer. Lost his -wife a few years ago, and now Millie keeps house for him, and he has a miniature farm where he spends his time. Got about 10 acre 3, I believe, and grows things for experiments, and has a cow and a huge garden and all that sort of thing. I hear that his pet hobby is bees." "Bees? Great scott!"

"And look here, now I'm going to tell you what you've got to do. For the next day or two you've to read 'bees,' talk 'bees,' and think 'bees,' till you fairlv get 'bees' on the brain." | 'l hope I don't. I hate the creatures. "Then, Dicky, you've to go up and make the old chap's acquaintance. You've got to tell .him you've been very interested in 'bees r lately and you have come to him for a little advice. That's the first step, Dicky. You've got to get into'the old chap's good- graces, and nothing will do it better than appealing to him for advice about his net hobby." The. rest follows quite naturally. You are invited in for a cup of tea, where Miss Millie hovers over the tea' cups and smilingly passes you one. And you are as pleasant as you can be, and meanwhile take shy little glances at the golden ringlets that curl so gracefully round her white brow, and the wonderful azure of her eyes." "For goodness sake. Bandy, stow that story book rot."

"And that, Dicky," Bandy went on serenly, "is the first step; you continue interested in bees, and go up and explain your experiences and get further advice, and incidentally a little more acquaintance with the blue eyes inside, and little bv little the romance works out to i glorious climax. By the way, Bandy, ' Know where you can buy a hive of bees, and get them home, and dad's got a heap of books on the subject, and you can get to work at once." "But, upon my goodness, you don't expect a fellow's going to all that humbug do you?" "A gallant -must needs do much if he would win a fair lady," quoth Bandy, "and t3ke it from me, sonny, that's the easiest way of the lot. And the girls like nothing better than for 'pa,' to see the virtues of their young men, and its such a lot pleasanter too, for the young man. How would you like to see the same pa accosting you with. 'lf you don't get off the place young fellow—l'll —' " "You seem to know all about it, Bandy," Dicky put in, grinning. It was dusk. The autumn air was sweetly redolent with the fragrance ->f flowers. Ripened grain stood waving gently, ready for the drastic knives of the reaper. In the distance the burr-rr-rr of the reaper sounded, where a busy farmer and his men were loth to lose the last minutes of light. Thither Dicky had wended his and stood at the tightened barbed wire fence, vaguelv wondering if he' could get over without tearing his new grey tweeds. "Hm! what rotten luck!" He surveyed a large three-cornered tear with disgust, and with quick steps went towards a couple of men who were stooking. They stopped long enough to glance at him, and one even had a long enough pause to roll the sleeve of his cotton shirt a little further above his elbow.

Dicky watched silently for a little while and followed round. Then he cleared his throat. "Er hem! are either of you Mr Besant?"

r 'Nope, there's'the boss!" One of the stoolcers raised his arm and pointed to the reaper with its team of horses coming round. Then went stolidly on. Dicky moved towards the machine. The driver had not seemed to have noticed him. Dicky stood sqtiare across the way and held tip his hand. "Whoa!" The driver ripped out the word. "What the dickens are you stopping the machine for?" he roared. "Are you Mr Besant?" Dicky asked somewhat timidly. "I'm Fred Besant. Why the dickens, I say—are you keeping a team of horses waiting to ask me that?" "Er, I wanted to know if you had bees for sale?"

"Bees? Confound you, can't you let a fellow get on with work like this—and to-morrow it might be raining. Bees? What ,do you want with bees? ' "X wanted to buy some if you have any?" A slow smile curled round the lips of Besant as he leaned his big sun-burnt

face in his hand and then he laughed, a low chuckling sort of a laugh that somehow angered Dicky. "Think I sell theriT by the dozen, sonnie? Or perhaps you'd, like two to begin with?"

"If they are for sale, I'd buy a hive. If they are not. you can say so. Dicky spoke with dignity and drew himself up to his full height, painfully conscious of the gaping rent in his immaculate tweeds. "I see—ah —yes. Well, you said you wanted a hive—a whole hive, eh?" "I did."

"Well, I'd want two pounds for a hive," The farmer's shrewd eyes watched Dicky. "I'll pay that if I can take it away to-night."

"You can. Are you going to take it in your arms?" There was just the hint of laughter in the -voice.

"No. I have a' sheet here for the purpose." "Then if you hand out the two quid, young feller, you'll find the bees in yonder hollow, and I'll get on with my job," And Fred Besant stuffed the notes into his trouser pocket and uttered a loud "get-up," and the clatter of the machine started again. "Don't get stung," he yelled over his shoulder as Dicky moved away. But Dicky was in no humour for banter, and only nodded curtly. The hive wasn't quite as small as Dicky had imagined. He spread the old sheet carefully on the grass, rolled a little wad of paper and plugged the entrance hole, and very gingerly lifted the box on to the centre of the sheet. There was a buzz-zz from inside. He gathered up the corners and tied them firmly with twine, then, not without some difficulty, hoisted it on to his back.

It was a longish walk home, and Dicky had covered about half the distance when his troubles commenced. It was more the awkwardness than the weight of the hive that made him shift it on to the other shoulder. And then something gave .way. . Dicky didn't know iust what, but there was renewed buzzing, an angry buzzing that made Dicky quicken his pace. And then, just then, his foot slipped. He made a frantic effort to regain his balance and something else gave way. Dicky knew that sound —the sheet had burst. In desperation he plunged on, till a sharp sting in the back of the neck, followed by another and yet another, made him relinquish his grasp somewhat suddenly. The box landed with a bang. "Confound the brutes!" he muttered as he extracted a long sting from his neck. And then very softly Dicky bent down to repair damages. He tied up the hole as well as he could with stringy - "Lucky I've always got string handy,*' he commented inwardly. And Dicky shouldered his lively burden and marched manfully on. And then a ourious thing happened. There was. a sort of trickling'sensation under his collar, and gradually it spread. And then-light dawned on Dicky. ■

"It's the honey." he murmured wretchedly, "running down my neck. My sainted aunt! What next?" And the next soon happened. He had just decided he would endure this wretched feeling of stickiness when, without warning, there, was an angry, persistent buzzing rising 'steadily in volume, and a swarm of bees around him—bees everywhere. '• And then, upon his misery broke the cheerful hail of Bandy. . "By crikey, Dickie, your luck's out." And, as later in the evening, Dickie sat with the bluebag pressed against the most irritating of his many stings, he agreed soberly. "Never mind, old chap," Bandy spoke consolingly, "you're on the highway to success, arid what's the odds about a sting or two?" And as Dickie clapped the blue-bag - fiercly on to his swollen lips and neck, he ~ wondered sort of vaguely if Bandy had ever been stung by a "little busy bee." It was evening again—a balmy, quiet evening that breathed of autumn with its golden harvest, and the scent of late roses and a wealth of mignonette. Dicky shivered slightly at the memory of another: night, just such as this, when he carried home the

"Ah, yes, Captain Denniston, you have a magnificent place here. You see, as I said before, I heard that you had—ei — made a great- success of your—er —beeculture, but I had no idea you had things on such an extensive scale. You see, I thought I might manage to pick up a few Ideas— —"

"Yes, Just so. I will be more than pleased to give you the benefit of any knowledge I possess." The captain smiled one of his rare smiles that softened the rugged lines about his mouth, and made the keen grey eyes seem wonderfully bright. 'T will just show you my flower beds, and the young apple trees I planted this year, and perhaps you will Join us in a cup of coffee on the verandah. Millie and I take it there these mild nights!" "Er, thank you, I will be delighted." Dicky was tingling with a feeling he did not stop to analyse. "So Bandy was right after all, the old rascal," he murmured under his breath. And aloud Dicky was explaining in admiring way. "Upon my word, captain, you do things properly. This is a wonderful colour scheme. Those beds of phlox are perfect." And Dicky was giving no sham admiration. - The captain glanced keenly at the boy, and a pleased, gentle, far-away look came into his eyes as he said softly, "It was Millie's idea, she told me just before she died. Little Millie's mother," he explained quickly, "she had a great head for planning things. Ah, here we are. and Millie is ready I see with the coffee. Come along." And Dicky followed happily. She did have curly hair, and she did have a white brow, and Dicky did think the little curls clustered round rippingly. And she was frank and pleasant and girlish and dainty. An 4 he liked the soft white frock she wore, and the scarlet geranium in her belt. He forgot to drink

coffee for a little while, and Millie asked him if he would have some more, and in '

his confusion he very nearly over-balanced the tray. And then Dicky remembered the words of Bandy, and talked to the captain and was himself again. And the captain talked to Dicky, and this drew Dicky out, and he told them a little about his mother and college, and well—a little of everything. Then in his eyes, like a distant refrain, sounded Bandy's warning. And then Dicky plunged into "bee's" and talked. bees for the rest oi his stay. And so when the captain shook hands warmly and asked him to come again, and turned inside, he said to himself, "Wonder what on earth made the lad suddenly, take a notion for bees?" ■■>■""

Many subsequent visits did Dicky pay to Rosenlea. He talked bees, and thought of Millie. And... all his" "sky was rosy, hued; and .then—it came suddenly, like a north-west storm. Bandy met him coming home. "Hallo, old son, been at Rosenlea?'* And suddenly the banter was and he said in almost an awed way, "What's up, Dicky?" And Dicky swallowed hard and looked Bandy in the eyes. "I thought she did enre a bit, Bandy. She did.all the little things—you know—and to-night the captain and I were taking out the honey, and he told me quite innocently, of course, he doesn't know how often we've stood under the rose fence—that she's to be married next month to a fellow who's been at the front. He. said they expected him Home any day now," be finished wearily. Bandy scanned the bovish face. It looked almost haggard. "Married," he echoed weakly. "We won't talk about it, Bandy; I must forget." And Bandy slapped his back, and murmured in unusually gentle tones. ,T Poor old Dick!"