THE CAGED CANARY: A COMEDY WITH A STING

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXV, Issue 17756, 17 September 1927, Page 9

THE CAGED CANARY: A COMEDY WITH A STING

“’Ere you are. Who'll buy another bullfinch fer riinepcnce! J Yer can't go ivrong.” Into the rather drunken Saturdaynight mind of Allred \\ inch the raucous voice penetrated, lie was making liis way. through the jostling crowd of the little (lavement' market, pleasunti •' nnwiklfTed by the kerosene flares aim (lie cheapjack lures, of the stalls. “Who wants another bullfinch P A chance of a lifetime. A bullfinch for nmopence.” . Alfred Winch swayed himself In a stands!:!! raid gazed up at the voice. A ied-faced man in shoddy clothes bawled hopefully at the crowd. His big grimy hands fumbled a small paper bag in which something fluttered. Life in a paper hag lor ninopenee. The. flaring kerosene lit up a face distorted with tins passionate endeavour to sell bullfinches lor ninepoiiee. “Thank yer. sir. Yer a gent.'’ A hand had reached out from ibc crowd to dutch the paper^bag. “Now, who says another?”

Much'beer was. making a paradise of the pavement market to the muddled outlook of Alfred AVmch. While fluttering paper bags disappeared into the crowd, he gazed open-mouthed at dangling bird-cages, some with birds hopping lo '"and fro in frightened fashion, which provided a background for the man with the red face and shoddy clothes. Blue cages, golden cages, and green cages. Golden'birds, green birds, and blue birds. It was a confused jumble of colour to the open-mouthed Allred Winch. Yet, from out this spectacle ef coloured cages there fixed itself in his mind the vision of a red cage with a yellow canary.

| If may be that it fixed itself on his mind because the yellow canary was the only stable thing in that fluttering, ! jumping display. While the birds flut- | tered and dashed themselves against i the bars of their coloured cages, the 'yellow canary perched itself dumb and : stationary and calmly eyed the crowd of . laces that stared upwards. A red cage and a yellow canary : the colour effect appealed lo Alfred Winch, who worked a.s a painter and decorator. “I like that. My missus would like it too,” he said to himself. Ai that, moment the yellow canary 1 popped its head to one side and seemed to gaze in perky fashion at Alfred Winch. “Did you ever, now? Seems a bright little bird that. I’m sure, missus would like it.” Alfred Winch lurched towards the stall. Although his aesthetic sense had been captured by the yellow and red combination, he had another motive in desiring to buy the bird. A merry afternoon with merry companions had rather depleted bis week’s wages. The gift of a caged canary might placate somewhat the disturbing reception he anticipated from her when he reached homo. “A bullfinch fer ninepcnce. Yer can’t go wrong.” He had elbowed his way up to the red-faced man in shoddy clothes. “What’s the price of the canary?” blurted Alfred Winch. “Which canary, guv’nor?” “The e-canary in the red cage.” The red-faced man gave a swift look at the stall. “Seveu-and-six ter you—and cheap at the price.” “Hand it over,” decided Alfred Wincn, recklessly. The red-taoeu man reached out a grimy hand to take the cage, when a miserable, .shivering figure of a boy appeared from beneath the stall and clutched his anil. The red-laced man looked down.

“Don’t.” It was a hoarse whisper. “Eh? What d'yer say.” “Don’t sell the canary,” came the whisper from the shivering boy. “Clarn! Who owns this blasted stall, me oi- you. eh? Get out of it.” He raised a threatening fist and the boy shrank out of sight. The next moment the red-faced mail had clutched the cage and swung it towards Alfred Winch. “’Ere yor are, guv'nor. Seven-and-six. 'like it away.” Alfred Winch solemnly handed over three half-crowns, and, holding the cage above his head, lurched out through the crowd. As he passed out of that paradise of kerosene and eheapjaeks the raucous voice pursued him. “. . . Gawd hlime: ’Avo yer, all spent ver wages to-mght, or is there a blooming strike on? Eh? A bullfinch for ninepence. Yer can’t go wrong.” Alfred Winch stumbled homewards. “The missus is hound to like it,” he muttered to himself. The thought gave hint confidence. 11. “It’s a rum bird, Alf!” So said Mrs Aggie Winch as she folded her arms over a capacious bosom and gazed at the red cage and the yellow earnin' that hung over the remains of the Sunday dinner. Alfred Winch, engaged in the simultaneous tasks of picking his teeth with a match and reading a particularly interesting poison trial in his Sunday newspaper, merely grunted. It meant cither assent or dissent.. ,“Gawd knows why yer bought it,” went on his wife. “Yer must ’avc been more drunk than yer looked last night.” Alfred Winch sighed in a manner of a man who has long known the illogical nature of a woman. “It’s not a flighty' bird, I admit. It doesn’t flutter about the cage and whistle all day like these cheap wild birds that should never ’ave been caught. This canary is a knowing bird. It sues things. What should I do with n rowdy bird?” “But it never even chirps,” continned Mrs Winch, relentlessly. “P’r'aps if I hung it outside in the sunshine it would liven up,” he said. ' “After all, birds want the .sunshine and open air, yer know.”

Airs Winch let her eyes rest on the dirty plates and the remains of boiled cabbage that littered the table. “Take it, outside and give it away, if yer likes,” she said, savagely. “I’m goin' ter wash up.” * ■ ■ AVifli his Sunday newspaper and the red cage and yellow canary, Alfred A\ inch proceeded to the doorstep of his house. Dirly pavements, a lean black cat, and a monotonous row of brick houses similar to the one in which he lived was the familiar scene that met his eye. Watched with baleful intensity by tile lean black cat. he stood on tip-foe* and hung (he red cage on a rusty nail against the brick wall. Then 1m stood back, to admire his handiwork. The black cat.slunk cautiously out of the nay of his heavy hoots. “T iliin Iv the missus is right,” he murmured to himself. “It is a rum bird.” The ydlow canary still sat with silent aloofness on its perch. The on I v sign of animation was when it ruffled its feathers for n moment, and then resumed its air of complete detachment. “T wonder why the youngster didn’t want the canary sold?” he mused, and then sat down on the doorstep to continue, his reading of the thrilling poison trial.

How long he sat reading his Sundav newspaper lie hardly remembered. But it was while lie was studying the sporting news that he suddenly sat up in surprise. “Tweet —tweet —clir-r-r-p !” Alfred Winch almost chirruped himself in sheer delight at the sound. He let the newspaper fall from*his hands, stood up, and discovered the old gentleman. The old gentleman, with grey stubby board and round, benevolent spectacles, had his lace almost against the red cage. He might have been whispering secrets to the bird. Whatever it was, the yellow canary had suddenly shown itself vitally alive and was trilling a song as though its throbbing throat would burst with ecstasy. Discovered by Alfred Winch, the old gentleman turned towards him. He was dressed in a frock-coat faded green and held a bulgy umbrella behind his back with the air of a man of peace. “That’s a very fine bird,” lie said. “A very fine bird.” Alfred Winch was still in a state of surprise, and so contented himself.'.with' a hoarse acquiescence." “Might I ask if it is a particular pet of yours ?”. asked the old gentleman. , “Well, it ain’t exactly, a pet, fer I only bought it last, night,” - “Dear me—dear me! Only last night.” A short silence followed, . thrpiigh which’ the '■'canary shrilled; its happy song. The old man sighed gently, and allowed one hand to stray from his. 11111ihrclla in search, of a handkerchief' that he could not find, t “I 11cver—never' ©snooted tp see'that canfnKE agaiyi,” lie, said.. “What, yer knows''-thatcanary?” “fide, and the.yciigc.-.si Alas;! *a very sad? story. - Ilut, . then,V you -wQuldn’t

understand. A father's sentiment. Y.es. 1 suppose you wouldn't take five pounds lor that canary and cage?” Alfred - Winch positively blinked his surprise. ‘T’ive pounds!:’ “I cannot: bear to think, of the-bird ■ being out of my possession. It is vital.” | -The last word was'almost a sob. - | ■ “Won't you come inside?” suggested I Alfred: Winch. | _ 111. ; Airs Winch had come flushed from her battle with (lie dirty crockery. She sank., a blowzy, .fleshy creature.- into a chair that- was much too small for her. and stared respectfully at the faded green frock-coat that perched itself on the edge of the sofa. Alfred AVinch .straddled himself in the fireplace, as the master of a home should. ; The old gentleman vas nervous. His hands smoothed the bulgy umbrella and laid it across his knees. Then, in a quiet and hesitant voice, lie told tho story. “It was only two months ago,” lie began, “and yet it seems a century. T lived in a little cottage at Teddingtou, just near to the river, with mv daughter Angela. Angela! She was the most wonderful girl in the whole world

—laughing curls, laughing eves, and a laughing mouth. She was born to bring sunshine into the world.”.

Mrs \Vmcli rolled ner podgy hands into her lap and nodded sympathetically. “Alas! there were others who saw the beauty of my daughter. There was one in particular, a young man who loved my daughter passionately. A good-look-ing young man, always dressed smartly and with an air of being something in the City. He used to come down to Teddingtqn at the week-ends and take my daughter on the. riv6r. They spent days together in a punt. “It was not long before my daughter loved him in return. A girl cannot b:» expected to spend days of sunshine in a punt with a good-looking young fellow in flannels and blazer and not be expected to love liim. Many an evening when Maurice—that was his name — had gone back to his hotel at Teddington, Angola would conic and nestle herself at my feet and shyly tell me of the wonderful day they had spent together.” The old gentleman’s voice broke, and Mrs AVijieli coughed encouragingly. “Maurice was always bringing her little presents. She was still a child and,looked out for them with all the eagerness;-and expectancy, of a 'child. One Saturday he brought her a canary in a red cage, the same, canary arid cage that now hangs oyer vouf door. Angela laughed with delight and clapped her hands at the ■ sight of . them. The cage hung in her bedroom, and many a tiirie when l have passed her door I heard her whispering love .secrets to the ' cariary:’-Apd flic: bird .tsang its joy .-and delight.' Map}’ things she wliispoved . which wore much too sacred lor. an old rixati to listen t 0... I hurried pastthe doori” v The old ; lpan paused, took ; off liis spectacles, smeared tliejiv wi|h liia fingers.’and put tlierii” back .again.

(By William J. Makin.)

“H came like a cloudburst, so sudden and devastating. Maurice was married. He had been married for years, and his week-ends at Teddingtou were merely the amusement of a married man bored with the company of his wife at home. How Angela found out 1 never discovered. But, she made him admit tho truth and in his shamed, downcast face she saw all her ideals and illusions smashed. He said he was sorry, and vent away. . . . “I tried to comfort her. but an old man's love is no use to a girl who was thrilled to n young man's passion. She wept and cried pitifully.” Airs Winch nodded sympathetically and caught her husband’s eye. “Just like our Ada when .she had her first tiff’ with Jack.” slm said, loudly. Alfred AVinch bared lii.s teeth at her with a snarl. . She went to bed early that night.” coat,nurd the old gentleman. “Tt’oro was a determined look on her white lace from which all laughter had gore. Oh. if 1 had only realised the tiagcdy of that determination! I never knew until the next morning when 1 went to her bedroom. She was not tlien>. The bed had not been slept in. And the canary and the red cage wenmissing, too. “L was so .stunned by the sudden sense of tragedy that ! liard'y know what happened. I found myself wandering along the river hank calling •Angela—Angela.’ Tears filled my eyes and dimmed my sight, and it was only when I stumbled over something that i jea.ised what had happened.” “What was it?” asked Airs AVinch, her blowzy figure leaning forward. “It was the yellow canary and the rod cage, standing alone on the river bank.’ said the old gentleman quietly. “A few yards away the grey waters swir.e.l ami eddied in sinisier fashion. At once 1 knew the worst. Angela had gone, forth to drown horse 1 in the liver. Only tho canary, the one who knew all her secrets, had ween her humble death. Jn the dim light of the early morning she had placed the caged canary on the hank, whispered a tender farewell, and then gone towards that swilling grey water. On'y the canary had seen everything. . . ’.1.w0 days later the police found her body.” The old man's voice broke. Airs AVinch dubbed her eyes. “1 alius said it was a nun bird,” she said. “No wonder the pore thing ain t got a song in its breast. What Horrors it must ’ave seen.” Even Alfred AVinch felt the emotion of the moment and visibly drooped. “It was whi'o I was rushing away for the police on that dreadtul morning,''' said the old gentleman in the same quiet voice, “that I realised I had left tiro canary and the red cage on the ■, river bank. AVheu 1 returned to tho spot with the police they had disappeared. Someone wandering along the river bank that morning had found the bird and taken it away, 'they did not realise the humble tragedy. For weeks i have been .searching for the ye'low canary in a red cage. 1 have advertised in the newspapers. It was not until this afternoon that I happened to pass your heme. And there I saw the bird and the cage. There was no mistake. It is tho yellow canary to which Angela told her secrets.” “There's no doubt tho bird recognised you, too,” murmured Allred V inch. The old gentleman gazed at him through liis round, benevolent spectacles. There was n sad, wistful expression on his face. “You won't refuse to sell mo the bird now? For Angela’s sake. It’s all I have left, all taut an old man like myself can c'ing to. Angola opened her heart to the canary. Perhaps some day jl shall understand those trills and learn something of the beautiful soul of my little girl.”

He placed a. five-pound note oil the table. Mrs Winch was now opeii'v and unashamedly weeping. It was a groat moment in the life of Allred flinch. He cleared his throat noisily. “Guv'nor’, the bird is yours. I wants yer to take it, as a gift. Me and my missus ’ave ’earls, aiui we smmiu reu r feel easy it we took your i. oivy. 'lake the bird, and Gawd ‘clp yer to fear yer sorrow.”

The old gentleman was visibly ''moved. “I thank you,” lie said quietly. “Will you allow me to shake hands with yon?” Self-consciously. A’fred AVme'h felt hisgriniy hand gripped by the old 'man, end (lien he saw the faded green"!')ockcoal disappearing into the street'. “We've chucked away a. liver, Aggie,” lie said to lus weeping wife; “but i fiols a better man fer it.” “All, L’m proud of yer,” sobbed his wife. Half an hour later the old gentleman' sat in the hack room of a shop where birds and cages were sold by a redfaced man in shabby clothes." On a rickety table stood the red cage with its yellow canary. I lie old gentleman had discarded his round, benevolent spectacles and displayed an ugly, angry face. “1 II break every bone in your disgusting body,” he was saying, “if you dare to sell a bird in a red cage again. AH' instructions were quite definite. AVheu you receive a shipment of red cages and canaries you display them, but don t sell them. It cost me half an hour's hard talking to get this caged canary back again.” “1 told you —I warned you,”, cried a shivering, white-faced boy. The red-faced man licked his full lips nervously. He watched the old gentleman ftunble the cage until a false bottom suddenly revealed itself. Slowly, the trav was brought forth. It was filled with a dazzling white powder. “Cocaine!” chuckled the old gentleThe canary chirruped blithely, man.