PATCHWORK PIECES

Otago Witness, Issue 3886, 4 September 1928, Page 76

PATCHWORK PIECES

By

Eileen Service.

(Special for the Otago Witness.) LXVI.—THE ESCAPADE. Berinda sat in school preening and fluttering. There was to be a wedding that afternoon, and she was to be one of the brides. She giggled at the thought. The reason was Milicent’s birthday cake. When Berinda had called that morning with a present for Milicent she had been so impressed with the cake’s rcyal look and the true-lover’s knots scrawled in icing upon it that she had said: “ Oh, . it’s too good for a birthday; it’s like a wedding cake!” and then and there they had decided there should be a wedding. Milicent was an only child and consequently spoilt. She had just,- needed to say that she would like to take her cake to school to share it with her playmates and her parents had consented at once. So, after lunch, she and Berinda had borne the confection away. And now it only needed the hour of dismissal for them all to be free to eat it.

Berinda giggled again. When the boys had seen the cake they had clamoured for a piece and begged “ good old Milicent ” to “ be a sport.” But Milicent had said firmly: “ Only those who will be married shall have any,” and that had put a different face on' things. Finally, after a consultation in which it was agreed that the unwedded ones were nut to make fun of their wedded friends on condition that the latter gave them some of their share of the cake, six of them came forward and said they would join the ceremony, and six girls consented to be brides. Berinda was one of them, and Milicent was to be the parson. She was also to divide the cake. The bell rang. Out trooped the class, its day’s w’ork well done. Then there was a scamper for the end of the reserve. The cake, a tower of beauty, was placed on top of a stump, and Milicent began activities. “ The thing to do,” she said, “ is for each pair to stand one behind the other and do what the ones,ahead of them are doing. Berinda.and Bertie will be in the front. Hold hands.” The 12 held hands. None of them was more than 11 in age, so the proceedings were only funny. “ Now all the girls say, ‘ I will be your wife,’ and then the boys say, ‘ I will be your husband,’ and after that we’ll cut the cake.” She was obeyed. At the last word the 12 broke apart, and with a whoop they and the others who had stood in two 'long lines in the guise of bridesmaids and best men clustered round the stump, where Milicent was cutting the cake. What a noise! Berinda’s turn came last. She was Milicent’s friend, and so shared the privilege of hostess. But hers was one of the very best pieces, with the' “Mi” for “ Milicent ” iced upon it. Milicent handed it over. Berinda stretched forth her hand to take it. And then a dreadful thing happened, for Bertie crept up, and, snatching the piece, ran away with it as fast as his legs could carry him. By the time the others realised what had happened he was out of the school gate. Berinda stormed. In vain for Milicent to offer her her own slice. In vain for the others to murmur consolation. “He was my husband,” Berinda wept. “That’s why he did it. It’s the insult of the thing that worries me.” When they were going home later she and Milicent walked ahead of the others. And thus they were the first to catch sight of Bertie, sitting impudently on a pipe beside a ditch where some men had been working, and mocking at them. His face was puckered in an impish grin. His eyes danced maliciously. “Did you like your cake, Berinda?” he asked as she came up beside him. “ Lovely, wasn’t it ? .' And .didn’t that ‘M’ taste good? That’ll teach you to make fools of us all with weddings and things!” Berinda gulped. Then, before she could stop herself, she had rushed forward and given her tormentor such a mighty push that he fell over sideways into the ditch. Down he sank beneath the yellow water. He Avas lost to sight. Berinda stared. Her eyes and mouth opened so wide that she looked funny. She waited for him to come up. But he did not. “ He’s drowned,” Millicent shrieked. “ You’ve killed him. Oh, Berinda, you’ll be hanged.” Berinda jumped into the ditch. She felt forwmrd with her feet. There was something heavy that seemed to be stuck, and she bent and pulled. Then Bertie came to light, spluttering and gasping, his face and head sticky with yellow clay. Nobody laughed. The children who by this time had gathered round stood with horrified miens, too frightened to utter a w’ord. The silence was awful. Then a cold voice exclaimed, “ What is the meaning of this?.” and there was Mr Bead, the schoolmaster, who had come up all unnoticed, and was just behind them. At his voice the children melted away.' It was ludicrous how silently they fled. And soon there were left' only Milicent and Berinda and Bertie, the two latter gazing at him from the depths 'of the ditch, the former quaking at his side. “This is peculiar!” he said pleasantly. “Won’t you come out and let us discuss the matter?” But the bank was slippery, and. eventually lie

had to pull them out himself. The splashes his suit received at the effort were anything but becoming. A frown fell upon his brow. “ Now, explain! ”he said. He pointed at Alilicent. “ What is the meaning of this ? ” As the tale came out, Mr Bead’s face was a study. The preposterousness of it astounded him. He had never heard anything like it in his life bfefore. “ I cannot express myself! ” he said at last. “Words fail me.” Then, noticing that the dripping figures before him were now also beginning to shiver, “ Go home at once, both of you, and run all the way. A hot bath for each, and straight to bed. Milicent, you will please see that they both reach, their homes safely. We shall continue this matter in school to-morrow. I am ' astounded! ” Berinda spent a painful night. Her family, strangely enough, had not been angry, and except for the fact that she was sent to bed before tea, she had nothing to complain about. But her serenity was disturbed with worrying thoughts. School to-morrow! What would happen there? The picture she conjured up made her tremble with fright. Next day a subdued class tiptoed into its place. Were they all there? All but ‘ three—Milicent, Berinda, and Bertie. “ And where may your companions be?” asked Mr Bead with reference to the absent ones. “ Please, sir, Milicent’s sick because it was her birthday yesterday, and Berinda’s in bed with a headache.” “ And Bertie? ” “Please, sir, Bertie’s at the barber's. He's got some sticky stuff in his hair, and he's got to have it cut off.” Air Bead looked quizzical. Later in the morning he remarked: “ You might let those two girls know, anyone who's passing, that it will be wise for them to be here this afternoon. And Bertie, too, if you see him. I should say very wise, very wise Indeed. Don’t forget that.” The three absentees appeared after lunch. From their white faces, Milicent and BSrinda might really have been sick, while Bertie’s head was certainly cropped close. Air Bead glanced at them musingly, lhen, while they waited, petrified, he opened his mouth. lake out your books for composition,” he said, “ and write me an essay on the following subject, ‘ What I did yesterday.’ ”