"FROM SELECTION TO CITY."

Taranaki Herald, Volume LV, Issue 13921, 26 March 1909, Page 6

"FROM SELECTION TO CITY."

By STEELE RUDD.

(Continued.) XIII. . MY FTT?ST DAY IN A (iOYERNME.Vi , OFFICE. (Continued.) A \'ow mornings after T left the boarding house, where 1 had with great confidence undertook to pay fifteen shillings a week for board' out of ray fifty-two pounds a year (the balancewas to clothe me in tweed suits ano white shirts, and keep me in pocket money to spend about the town), and nervously presented myself to the head of my department. I must have been a eoriiing event in his office, because I found he expected me. "Oh, yes," he said, putting aside his pen*" and looking me all over. "You'll be all right here. Come along into the clerk's' room." I followed him. He shoved the doo: in, and introduced me to the staff. The staff were a well-groomed, high-collar-ed bunch of swells, who looked at me as though I had escaped from the en* cus. One was a long-legged, clean faced fellow with a heavy gold ring on his finger, and a smile that came from his eyes. The chief introduced him a.the clerk. Another was a perky old bachelor, with hair dyed the colour of a taffy horse's tail, and a face that glowed like polished cedar. Jie was riic principal clerk. And a third was a knock-kneed man with a violent brogue and a large foot that had been develop etl in the Irish constabulary. He wona war-like moustache, and looked worried. (The clerk informed me confi dentially in after years that he wa-child-hungry). He was the deputy, an next in command to the chief. "You sit here," the chief said, afte; • introducing me,— "and occupy thr table." Then, turning to the six and a half feet of clerk: "You'll see thot Rudd is fixed up with pens and ink and all that, won't you, old fellow? And just show him what he's .got to do." Then ho rushed back to his own The tall clerk unfolded his stilts-lik< limbs, and slowly opened a cedar pros? from which he took various articles o* stationery, and" turned to me. "What sort of nibs do you wntc with?" he asked. "Oh, any kind," I said. , "How will these suit your" "Oh, orright," I said, and ho tospot l the lot on to my table"l don't know what I can give yon to do just now," he went on, casting his eyes about his own table. "What sort of a hand do you write?" "Pretty fair," I said. "Any way," he decided, "You can sit <^own and amuse yourself for the I sat down ami looked all round thr room till I became familiar with it After a while I placed a pen behind one ear, stud a pencil behind the other, and looked round the room some more. I looked round it , till lunchrtime. A gun went off somewhere outside, and rattjed the windows. .""One o'clock," the clerk said I'j ll 'Is that the gim?' 1 the. old bachelor asked, and rose from his chair, and washed his hands in a basin and looked at himself in a glass. Tho door banged opeir X and the chief entered, and putting his face c!os© to mine in -a confidential sort of way. said: * ' "Are you busy, old chap?" "N — not very," I said. "Well, you know East Brisbane don't you?'' . , . . I stared at him. Ho mi girt just ar well haye 1 assumed that I knew some of the many ends of London, or was on visiting terms with tho President of t^f United States. " He seemed to read my thoughts, oj my looks. '"Well, you- know South Brisbane 9 That, I' guessed, must be sotnetlung easier; but could only answer with r. far-away shake of the head. I had.been under the impression that there wk<only one Brisbane. ''Well," tho head went on, "I Want you to deliver this letter for me." . looked suspiciously and apprehensively at the letter he hed in his hand. "Take tho South Brisbane 'bus: git out at Shafton Road, and turn down to the right. Then it's the second hou«r on your left after you cross the seeonc 1 street. Just hand this note to whoever is there, and they'll give you something to bring back for me. You can t hiiss the-plaee. It's a large new house with a white gate in front. "South Brisbane. 'Bus." I mut terod, feeling "more bewildered than 1 w.as ever in my life before. ' "What name did y' say, S' ?" And I broke out into a heavy perspiration. The chief looked a little bewildered, too. He turned to the clerk : "Just direct him how to find this place like a good fellow," he said, and handed him the letter, and rushed out _L__!_llXl I The clerk looked at me, and struck 'a sitting attitude. Then he took a 'piece of white pajxjr, and, with his pencil struck o couple of lines acres* it that looked like a Jane. "That's Shafton Road," he said, indicating the; lane. I stared blankly at Shafton Road. The clerk dashed tho pencil a<jros» the paper again, and said: "That's the rood tlve '.bus takes frqw. Woolloongabba" ! ' "Woollen— what ?" J moaned. "Woolloongabba," ho repeated with 1 ' wonderful ease. "Woolkmgabba," I echoed with an "You know whoro it in?" \ml b< looked up at roe, J confessed my ignorance. ,1 war. forced to, Ho looked at mo in aston- , islwncnt, "Don't you know where. Woolloongab- *>* !*•" ' i , I I didn't. I had never even heard of I it. The clork laughed. You'd think he had discovered something humorous. , "Do you know where South Brisbane is?" he asked, with a broad pjrin. I shook my head. I was in great pain. H<* probed me some more. "Where do you come from?" he asked. "Shingle Hut." He grinned again, and inquired it: whereabouts. I gave him its geographical position as near as possible. "And don't you know anything aboutBrisbane -it all ?" he added curiously. When I shook my head, he jumped up. "Come on," lie said, "and T'll put you f;it the right 'bus." (To be continued.)