Atragedy Indeed

Observer, 21 December 1893, Page 31

Atragedy Indeed

C was Mr. Squiffy's turn. We had contributed in rotation to the conviviality of our Christmas Eve gathering, and the fun had waxed fast and furious as joke, song, and story passed from one to the other. And now we looked toward. Mr. Squiffy. Poor little Squiffy. He was always so solemn. Squiffy never dared to laugh. Squiffy seldom sought our hilarious circle. Squiffy was very much married. And yet we knew that Squiffy could enjoy himself when he was safe from the argus eye of Mrs. Squiffy. Squiffy protested that he could not sing, and he had never made a joke in all his life. "A ghost story, then ?" Squiffy declared that he had never seen a ghost. " Well, surely something dreadful has happened to you some Christmas or other ? Tell us about that." Squiffy grew pale. We knew we had touched him on a tender spot. " Yes, Squiffy could remember one dreadful Christmas experience. Squiffy's eye grew sad, his cheek paled and he heaved a deep sigh. We drew ourselves together and began to feel creepy. We knew the story of an awful tragedy was coming. " It was this way," began Squiffy, in his most melancholy tone of voice. "You remember So-and-So," who used to live in slyle at Mount Albert ? "Yes, we remember." " Then you will recollect that they gave a masquerade ball one Christmas Eve, some six or seven years ago?" " Yes," we chorussed, and, as we refilled our glasses and lighted fresh cigars, we began to wonder whether this, being associated with a masquerade ball, was a tragedy after all or only a romance. We need not have wondered. It was a tragedy. "Well," proceeded Squiffy mournfully, "we were invited to that masquerade — my wife and I. She could not go, and she wished me to stay away also. Would to God that I had." We began, to feel creepier. " Well, I was sorely tempted to go and have a little fun on my own account. That is usually the way we married men come to grief. But how to manage it was the question?" We all sighed in sympathy with Squiffy. We are all married men. "It so happened, as chauce would have it, that our Masonic lodge was to meet' on that identical Christmas Eve, and I dressed for the lodge. My poor wife never suspected me. Innocent child ! Little did she dream of the deceitfulness of which her Squiffy was capable." We all sighed again. Squiffy was not the only one. " Well, gentlemen, to cut a long story short, I went to the ball. No one could recognise me, because I was masked, and I was determined to leave before the masks ■were removed. All would have been well if I had not chanced to meet a dainty little thing in pale blue. Gentlemen, she was divine."The creepy feeling began to wear off, and we nodded approvingly to each other, while Squiffy went on with his story even more mournfully than, before. "It was my evil fortune to attract her attention. I thought she smiled at me. Could it be ? Yes, it must. Etere was my chance. I was masked ; no one could recognise me. I placed one hand impressively on my heart and gazed longingly at her.'. Again we all sighed. Perhaps it was at Squiffy's perfidy. But surely this was no tragedy.

Written fob the Observer by W. J. Geddis,

" And what did she do, Squiffy ?" " Don't ask me. She smiled again, and, as I'm a living man, she wafted me a kiss from the tips of her dainty fingers." " Squiffy ?" we all protested. " 'Twas a fact. She was an enchanting creature, I was sure, and I was in a delirium of delight." " And what was she like ?" " Oh, don't axis me. Golden hair, fairy form, graceful dancer, short skirts, shapely ankle, and all that sort of thing, but I could not see her eyes. Gentlemen she was a gem." '"Well, proceed." " The next time I saw her she was my vis-a-ris in a quadrille, and when my hand touched hers for the first time I was enraptured. She had such a tiny hand — and oh, so soft. " ' Squeeze it ?' Of course, I did. She looked startled, but I fancied she returned the pressure. Next time, I squeezed harder. Oh. the ecstasy of that moment. The pressure was distinctly returned by the darling girl." "Fie! Squiffy." " I beg pardon, gentlemen, I forgot.

" Ah, but it was blissful. I sought her out, and engaged almost every other dance. She giggled and protested that people would talk, but what cared I. Let them talk, was my reply. " And how she prattled.. What a musical, voice.- She wondered who I was, and whether I would know her again. ■ . „-.•■ "Know you?". I repeated, as, I led her to a retired seat in the deserted conservatory.' .."I would know you anywhere in Heaven, for that is surely your home. You are an angel. ...■...•:■...-. .. . " And then I seized her dainty; hand -agakvand pressed it to my lips." .-. :,..•., :• ' .i.> ••. .' "Oh! Squiffy!" , -,-. .:.-...,.., „ ■ . : . " Well, yes, gentlemen;, it .tyasnft. .right,. I .know. But I was in a perfect ; whirl.- of,, ;deligh;t-*> sli adore .'fairies, with golden tresses and.. slendeiy. waists ir.An.&Msur&ly such an one was my inamorata., ij,,. „■ / -.\ii.,i..t''i jim .•..: "I thought I had offended her, beyond" forgiveness by my rudeness.. But, ,she;pard6ried: 1 .; I t'he 1 1 freedom. ■ And then we became confidentiaL-yiShe' was: 'anxious to know if I was married.

" ' Certainly not,' I boldly replied, and then she sat •closer to me and talked prettily, and twisted my •;• moustache, and then I—dash1 — dash it, gentlemen, I encircle d her slender waist with my arm and squeezed it tenderly." " Well, and whafthen ?" we breathlessly asked. "It. was all right. She liked it, I know, because she came closer and placed her lovely head, with its wealth ©f golden curls, on my shoulder." " Oh, Squiffy ! And was it nice ?" "Bather." And the mournful old boy actually laughed. " Well, there we sat, me with my arm around her waist and she with her head on my shoulder. It was scandalous, I know, but then I argued with myself that Colonial girls are so forward nowadays and Mrs. Squiffy ■ would never know. And it was very agreeable to have . one's arm round a slender waist, too ; you know Mrs. S. has no slender waist, and — but no matter. " Then the demure little maiden began to crossquestion me about my prospects. I told her I was good for a thousand a year, and she cottoned on closer. She seemed very much in doubt about my protestation that I was a bachelor. Again and again, she made me repeat that I was unattached, with a preference for no one, and each time she sighed and pressed my hand. Surely she had designs on that thousand a year. I told her heaps of pretty things ; I made it clear to her that I was in love, and then I began to long for one kiss from those pouting, ruby lips. t ■ " She was free and unconventional, but I was afraid that she would resent this freedom. And yet I was sorely tempted. We rose to go. I drew aside a mass of ferns to make way for her. I murmured some silly nonsense about mistletoe, and then I seized her by the waist, drew her fairy form to mine, and in spite of her indignant struggles brushed back that mass of golden curls and imprinted a burning kiss on her chaste lips. She giggled, and struggled, and once more I seized her. Surely this was encouragement. I would have another kiss. "Behave yourself, Peteb Nicodejius Squiffy," she snapped out sharply. I stopped. Surely I knew that voice. "Peter Nicodemus" (it went through me like a knife), "what do you mean by this, and your poor wife at home?" I released her. Then she removed her mask and, gentlemen, as I'm a living man, it was — my mothek-in-law — transformed by

"And, as I'm a living soul, she wafted me a kiss from the tips of her dainty fingers."

paint and powder, and false curls, and pretty pale blue gauzy material — but still my mother-in-law, Gentlemen, it was the tragedy of my life.