The lady who Studied Hands

Taranaki Daily News, 17 December 1926, Page 1 (Supplement)

The lady who Studied Hands

5 First Prize Short Story Competition

By

QUENTIN POPE,

Wellington.

“Life,” said the philosopher, gazing I profoundly at the butter, ”is a table d’hote where the dish of your fancy is sure to be oft'.” I agreed tremulously, resisting an impulse to say that I had heard it be- • fore. “The Government,” he continued, shift - 1 ing his gaze to his empty plate, “is a form of comic opera run for the amuse-' ment of the people.” I wondered what pearl would fall i next from his lips. “Money,” he chanted sonorously, “is' the curse of mankind, the cause of in- : numerable race meetings, and the holes in a million pockets. 1 never carry | any.” I had noticed that. “Once,” he went on dreamily. “I was rich. I had £3OO a year. That was long ago. 1 am used to having money. I am even consistently cheerful under the affliction. But I could never do what that girl did.” “What girl?” I demanded, interested at once. Despite my friend’s jokes, t am still young enough to have an interest in anything in silk stockings. He faced me wearily, and I knew that ho had something to reveal. One is always tired of the truth. “Didn’t I ever tell you?" he asked. ‘‘Well, it was like this. “One day last month, when I was somewhat more bored than usual, I was loitering outside a large draper’s shop and speculating as to how many of the women who entered it intended buying anything. The irrational always attracts me, and all women represent the irrational —or at least all well-dressed I women do. It was then that I saw her , first. ‘•lmmediately I set her down as on£ of, the wouldn’t-buys. She had such a de- | termined air—l was certain that no as- { sista nt could impose on her. To say that she was charming is to under rate her. She was ravishing, alluring, divine.” He flicked a crumb across the tabic. “She stood not ten yards away from me and suddenly I transferred my attention from her allurements to her actions. She dropped her parasol. Or was it her glove? I really cannot remember” I said nothing. My friend’s bad mem- I >ry dates from his debut in a divorce! suit. “Yes, she dropped her parasol—or her , glove—and a passing officer retrieved it ; and restored it to her. She thanked him charmingly and passed on. She proceeded another ten yards and dropped it —her glove or her parasol—again. A middle-aged man recovered it and received another of her gracious smiles. Then I .began to follow her. I determined to be close on the next dropping i of the parasol. It was at the corner i that it happened. A gawky youth and > I made a dive for it simultaneously. I ■ won; the gawky youth sat down in the' gutter. “‘Thank you so much,* she said in aj delicious voice, with a slight, ever so; slight, lisp. Nothing, I thought, could } equal such a lisp. .“I bowed. Then.l noticed that she • was scrutinising my hands intently She ■ gave a little cry of surprise. “‘What extraordinary fingers!’ she I said. i 1 “I .bought that I might risk an in-' conse uent remark upon the weather. 1 that <opic which has led to half the. misen of mankind. But my effort float i ed by. My hands seemed to exercise• some fascination for her. I made a des-1 perate effort to revive the conversation.; In two minutes I rambled over half a dozen topics, the hard times, dress, pro-: hibition and the cost of living. But : she wasn’t listening. t

•• t <>me with me, she said suddenlv. and before I quite realised what had happened we were in a taxicab and rolling swiftly southward. Just where we went I do not recollect, but I did not remember ever having seen the streets before, f was otherwise engaged. During the run I discovered that she was an orphan, that she lived alone, was musical, rolled her r s in the most, delightful way. and had never heard of Joseph Conrad. All of which made a rare combination. And her hobby or profession, I did not know which, was palmistry. Or, as she put it, she studied hands. And so she had pounced on me as a rare specimen. I felt disappointed at that, but, after all, hands which brought me an acquaintance with such a girl must be worth owning.

FOR A BRIGHT CHILD. If you are young and simply dread To eat the crusts that grow on bread; And if your parents say you must Because there's lot of health in crust; Don't make a fuss or fret or cry; A bit of common sense apply. Give to earn crust a little lick. Then in your pocket slip it quick. This must be done quite carefully. But if you’re smart they’ll neicr see. And then when you go out to piny. Just throw the horrid things away

“The car purred up a rise and stopped Iseforc a house that was not different from other houses. You might rent them by the hundred if you could house the large families inside them somewhere else. 1 felt a sudden panic when I real- . ised that I should have to pay the taxidriver and thought of my empty pock- ’ ets. However, she settled the matter ; by interrupting me when I attempted to ! bribe him with a scarf pin and paid him ' herself. “We went straight into the house, ■ which was tastefully if massively furi nished, and she pushed me into the from room and closed the door. A minute later I could hear her outside speaking; ; impatiently to someone and a deep, | harsh, masculine voice answering her. | Then she came back. “ T must apologise to you,’ she said I with that wonderful smile which had j captivated me before. ‘I have taken' advantage of your good nature in a real- ! ly dreadful manner. But I knew that j you would be ready to help as soon as i I saw you. The fact is I am in grave; trouble.’ “Tn trouble!’ I felt impressively i byronic at once. “Tell me.” “ ‘Oh, I can’t explain now. But my need is most urgent. I must do something at once. I will tell you about it later. In the meantime if you wish to help me you must sit at the piano. You play, don’t you?’ “She indicated a grand to one side of the room. “‘You will help me, won’t you? she appealed. “Who could resist such a woman? Paphnutius would have come down from ’ his column for her. I fell, of course. | So I seated myself at the piano with I a brief word. I “ ’You will find music to your taste,” ; she said as she went out, and then I i heard her little feet pattering lightly, ever so lightly and swiftly, on the stairs. “I yielded to the inevitable, and plunged into the glooms of some modern Russians whose names I have no wish to remember. I rambled through a Schubert song book, and pecked at John Ireland’s Sonata for Piano and Violin, i I went from the ‘Coronach’ to Rutland ’ Boughton's ‘Fairy .Chorus,’ from the ‘lm- ! mortal Hour’ and finally 1 scurried through the Presto of the Moonlight i Sonata. Once through the din I thought ! that I heard somebody click the gate, and down the road I detected the speed ; song of a motor changing gear. But 1 played on until someone raced up the { garden path and brwit a violent tattoo • upon the door. Someone else hurried to I open it and I could hear rough tones in | altercation. “‘Corn.’’ said one of them. ‘Blinkin’ rot. She’s been ’ere f’r arf ’n liar!’ i “T tell you I Moen ’er!” yelled somej l>ody else.* ‘Seen ’er in a taxi—gonin’ I like smoke!’ |. “‘Garn, yer day-dreamin’!’ exploded i the man inside. ‘Playin’ the planner | ! f’r arf ’n har, she's been! Come ’ere!’ 1 “His hand rattled on the knob of the ■ front room door. ‘Come ’n’ see f’r y’r- ; self!’ I “The door swung wide open, and ui; • they came to find me sitting foolishly ■ jat the piano. The first man emitted a ! war-whoop, and charged out and up the ■ stairs to the floor above, where I beard ; ! him stamping about and swearing I.: i' too, was too astonished to do more than | i stare. I ! “‘Goni!’ he yelled down to his com-1 • panion. at length. ‘Gorn, with ’arf ’n • j bar’s clear start an’ tiken ’er joolary ; with ‘er!’” 1 My friend ceased and regarded the : butter sorrowfully. I “Who were the men?” I asked him. Silently he took a card from his wali let and handed it to me. In the large, bold type of business cards it set forth RI DDER & BOSS. Commercial Agents. ' . •'Bailiffs!*’ I ejaculated. 1 The philosopher sighed. ! “I called there later,” he said. “They told me that they were acting for over ! , thirty firms. She absconded before, it j 1 seems. Of course she would be able to j tell that I played the piano from my ' i hands.” We sat in meditation for some min- ; ut es. “It must have been a glove,” he said . reflectively. “That day was rather show- j ery—yes, it must have been a glove.” i 1 ruse and softly went away. |

CHRISTMAS RIDDLES. Whj- is Father Christmas most dangerous of men?—Because his “Claus” (claws) ■ always have “u” (you) in them! j Why is merry Christmas always just like , the letter “t”?—Because it comes once in . twelve, and twice in twenty-four (months), I you see. What keys at Chrishtns de w? piost j desire? -Why. “turkeys,” of course, which are roasted by the fire.