WITH BANNERS FLYING.

Sun (Christchurch), Volume III, Issue 858, 9 November 1916, Page 6

WITH BANNERS FLYING.

[Written for THE SUN.] Tlh> house at l.lio cross-roads had boon in a stato of seething unrest for nearly a week. Ail the peaceful, ordered routine had gone to smithereens, until even the weather caught the infection, and became fitful, moody and capricious. Grandfather, cocking one eye skywards, something after the manner of an aged and very knowing parrot, made gloomy prophecy.

"Shouldn't wonder but what it'll be wet for the races and show," he said, and received a vehement protest from his pretty granddaughter. "Oh, gran'dad, how can you! Why,.it simply shan't rain for that week of all weeks—-it simply shan't! I won't have it!" And imperious Betty made a wrathful, ridiculous, threatening face at the sky, which immediately became intimidated, and smiled sunnily in such an amazingly short time that even gran'dad reluctantly conceded that it might be fine after all. (Iran'dad always said that things now a-days could not compare with those of his day—

races, shows, and even the weather seemed to have deteriorated since then. So gran'dad always indulged in discouraging prophecies, and even when the weather turned up trumps, he would never commit himself to unqualified praise. It was all very well in its way, lie seemed to imply—-oh, yes, quite good weather for those that liked it —still, not what it used to be —once.

But father, and mother, Betty and young Tom—so railed to distinguish him from his parent—Alison and Jock were quite satisfied with ordinarily fine weather for the auspicious week, the cause of the upheaval. They were all going in to town for the races and show. Young Tom, now in his 20th year, was going into camp shortly, and father said to mother that all of them would have :i week's spree together before the family circle was broken up—a whole week of gaiety and holiday-making and fun, and hang the expense! Father walked over to the window rather quickly but with great swagger as lie said it, and stared hard down the road at nothing at all, and mother, strange for such an expert knitter! —mother seemed to drop a stitch in her knitting. But she picked it up in a minute, and then she clapped her hands like a girl as Alison came in. "Do you hear that Alison?'' she said. "Father's going to take us all to town —for the races, and show, and everything —we're going to stay the whole week and have a real good time. Run and toll Tom and Betty, and we'll make plans." That was weeks and weeks before, and now the great event was within hailing distance. The two girls were getting new frocks—quite a lot, for father said they niustn 't be shabby with a soldier in the family, and mother must also dress up to her illustrious son. Father would regard the confections they introduced him to with amazement, but deep admiration —he was immensely proud of his sweet-faced wife and his two pretty girls, and as for Tom — his- straight limbed, clear-eyed splendid young son —well! The clock of his life was set to Tom. and Tom was going away, lie was going to speed him with banners dying and music playing, and mother, splendid, unfailing comrade of a quarter of a century— mother understood and was seconding him valiantly, So the week's holiday came into being. They both besought gran'dad to join the party, but gran'dad refused. ITe didn't care for races now a-days, and

shows tired him so. lie would do very well at home, and lie would be aide to keep an eve on things against their re turn. And he'd rather say goodbye to young Tom out there, where he'd watched him grow up—where he'd given him his first ride on the old pony—did mother remember the little pie.-baid that died the spring Alison was born? —a grand little mare in her day. . . .

At last they were off—the Saturday iiiorniiur of the Cup. Father wanted to go on Friday, but mother said it was such an unlucky day for a journey, and although father joked her about her superstitions, he did not offer any opposition. Father wasn't tempting the Fates those days, any more than mother. The journey on Saturday, however, was a mere nothing, and they arrived at. the hotel in plenty of tinie to "titivate," as father called it. before they set off for Ricoarton. It was a very happy and good-looking family that took their places on the grandstand for the first race.

Father didn't exactly approve of women betting, more because he hated to see them scrambling through the crowd with ''money-hunger" in their faces, getting jostled and pushed by unmannerly people than because of any miestiou of the propriety of it. Hut he let them pick their fancies that day, and back them too. and more than that, they won! The winner was the horse they had b'icked at Tom's suggestion, so mother said that showed how luck" he

was, and father shi< 1 ]■(■> expected him to bring back the Victoria Cross ;it lease. Father was always making jokes about Tom's future soldierly career, and at such times mother would give him a look that said, plain as words, "Well done, dear man! Well doue!" Mother's own feelings never counted, to her. She was always forgetting them for those of others.

They had a gay day. Even - thiiig smiled upon them, excepting the weather, but their enjoyment was too keen to be damped by any small thing like that. It is true that once they lost Jock in the crowd on the lawn, and after hunting diligently for half-an-hour, found him calmly sealed on the stand, reading a newspaper. "I missed you and came up hero," h' said with the calmness of 11 years. "I found this paper on the steps ami T was trying to find if they'd got the Kaiser yet. But I don't think they have. Never mind, you'll get him when you go, won't you, Tom " And Little Brother looked up with boundless trust and admiration at Big Brother—wonderful Big Brother, who was going to be a real soldier soon. The week sped along on oiled wheels. Races aud show were partaken of in layers, and in the evenings rather took them to the theatres, or for a motor ride—something or other in the way of amusement. There was nothing mean about the head of the house, and all he asked was that they should have a good time, and they had it. Banners still flying and music playiuj:, they saw Tom oft" for Trenthain at its close, .lock was staring after him, eyes very brjght and solemn, and lips very firmly set together. lie was a soldier's brother, and yet he felt, with shame, that he would like to blubber. Alison was crying openly, but then, of course, old Alison was only a girl. Betty wouldn't cry—Betty was a good pluck - ed-un, she was—more like a boy than a girl. But .lock felt, by some freemasonry of disposition, that Betty felt just, as he did, only, being a soldier's sister, she, too. was "on parade." He took her hand clumsily, and felt it gripped with a force that hurt him. But he never winced. Ami father? He stood there, looking oil! across the distance for a minute, ami then he turned and smiled down at mother, taking her arm and leading her away. "Well, mother, that Victoria Cross will make a great brooch for you,'' he said. And mother smiled hack at him, as she ahvavs did. B.T.R.