Sandy’s Christmas Spree

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17410, 12 December 1924, Page 4 (Supplement)

Sandy’s Christmas Spree

SECOND PRIZE STORY

Written for the Christmas “ Star ” by

Mrs. Emily Baizeen

It was some months since Sandy had had his last spree, and the symptoms — well known to l anyone who knows the station hand -were beginning to develop. The manager had occasion to “rouse” on Sandy the men going out to repair the boundary fence had to get their own lunches, and. worst of all. the last batch of bread was not what it should have been, and complaints had come from the lady herself at the big house. So at last the manager says: ‘‘Send for old Andy to take his place; and let this old heathen here have his blue blind paralytic holiday and be done with it.’’ It is only human nature to suppose that honest old Alexander would have lost his job long ago had it not been for the fact that no one could be got for miles around half a.- good for the billet, or less troublesome for ten months of the year. Sandy set out with the mailman - his cheque -safely stowed away in the toe of his boot to ride across to the main road and catch! the rattling contraption op. four wheels which rejoiced in the name of the Hoya! Mail Coach. His anxiety for fear of missing the royal conveyance and the train was not alleviated until he was sitting well hack on his cushionless seat enjoying in anticipation of gurgling descent of the first “long 1111” on his arrival at the hostelry of his friend Davy CarHut imagination can sometimes run riot with the best of us. and Alexander was no exception. From thinking of the beer lie got such a longing for flic taste of it that his longing was extreme when, as good luck would have it. some shunting had to lie done at one oi the roadside stations, and in the tedium of waiting Sandv stepped to th>> platform. I lie first thing to strike vision was the sign of a “pub.” and the temptation proved too much for him. Finding from the station master

that he “migil.it be able to do it” if he hurried up. he made a bee line for the refreshment house. He got Ins two beers down and paid for. then made a rush for the train ?just in time to see it puffing out. quite indifferent to the fact that it left, a disappointed and indignant passenger behind. “Sorry, old chap, hut we couldn’t keep her waiting.’’ said the stationmaster when Sandv arrived at the platform, “but there’s another in five, hours’ time if you like to wait.” “No good to me.” says Sandy. “I'll pad it. and I’ll he in as soon as the next traiiu" “You may got. a lift on the road,” genially replied the S M.. and Sandy started off for his long walk to the city. Though an old man. Sandy was a good walker, and at one time would have thought nothing of the miles but age tells on the best, and he was beginning to think he should have waited for the train, when a horse and cart, in which were two small boys, bore dow n on him from a side lane. “Have a, lift, mister?” asked the elder one. a boy of about fourteen years of age. “Thank ye I will.” says Sandy stepping into the cart. ‘ Are you goin’ fur?” he asked “No, sir,” replied tile boy, “just back to the home.” “An ! where’s that?” asked the old man. “Cp the road a bit—the Boys’ Orphanage, you know,” explained the younger* boy. “The orphanage where they bring up boys like us.” “Is that so?” said Sandy, and for a time the trio drove on in silence, Sandy pulling at his pipe very thoughtfully and deliberately. Then, “And what are they goin’ to do with ye after?” “Let some out to work for people, and they teach others farming, gardening. milking, baking, and things like that This boy is our baker.” indicating the elder one. Hg bakes all the bread for us. at the home.” ‘ ‘AY hat—bakes bread—thon boy?” roared Sandy. “What are ye tryin’ to tell lies like that fur? I’m a baker mjrsel’ an’ I know fine a boy like —” “But he does—don’t you. Bill? And matron says he’s the best baker in the district,” replied the 'younger hoy, in dignant that his championship should

be doubted. “If you don’t believe us. come with us. and we’ll show you.” And that was how old Sandy found himself up at an wrphanage—and how his Christmas spree began. With the permission and kindly escort of Matron herself the hoys and Sandy set out for the bakehouse. What Sandy saw astonished him. He took a keen delight in the well-appointed bakery, the splendid oven, and all the implements of the trade. From there lie was taken to the piggery. cowyards. milking pens and separatorrooms. Very neat by nature, Sandy was impressed greatly with Hie neatness of the dormitories, the dining rooms, and the big school rooms. Most of bis warm old heart went out to the children who were bright and cleanbut motherless at Christmas time ! •1 suppose they have a treat, though, now an’ then?” lie asked the Matron, wistfully. “Well, yes.”, she replied, “in a way they do when some kind person sends us a special donation for the purpose —but we can’t do much, as the cost of ‘provisions is now so great we have to be very careful.” 'I suppose so.’ said Sandy. Something in the old man’s tone caused the Matron to regard him with a more personal scrutiny. “He is poor, she told herself, “and he seems as much in need of a Christmas treat as the children.” Stic niade a sudden resolve. “We are having a concert this evening." she said, “and you would he welcome to join us. if you wish.” Sandy looked over at the group of children the baker boy smiled at him so did the other one. “Thank ve kindle. Ma’am!” he said to the Matron, and much to his own surprise lie took off his bat and made her a stiff bow. The concert began, and again Sandy had to admit it was a great treat. First the hoys' hand played selections, which warmed the cockles of his heart as they took him back to youthful days “At Home in Bonny Scotland." Quartettes, duets and solos -

every item got a popular reception: hut when Sandy's baker-boy stepped along in fine style to pump liis elbow and send forth the familiar shrill notes of “Loch Lomond.’ Sandy's feet began keeping time, his hands heat on his knees, till both feet and both 'hands were at* it “The Campbell’s Are Coming.” saw him up on the floor and at it on his own account, and as the music- waxed faster, the steps became more alluring—Sandy's Christmas spree was at its zenith'. Afterwards the Matron good-naturedly accepted the* poor man’s apology with a happy smile. “When I hear the pipes at ‘The Campbell’s.’ I’ve to get out on the floor or bust. ' he said. Late mail next clay the Matron was utterly surprised- to receive a letter containing a cheque for £'4o. and a short note stating: “That forty pounds is for a treat for the* children on Christmas Day. I was going to have a ‘spree with it. but the children and their concert done me more good in some way. 1 can have a ‘spree’ any tune. When 1 saw all those little chaps i thought of—well, it doesn’t matter now. anyhow it must be pretty hard to he motherless on Christmas Day. ' Sandy got hack to the station next day just as Andy, his substitute, was laying down the law to the poor unfortunate “offsider.” "Are ye the boss of my kitchen, then. Andy M Phee?” asked Sandy, stepping in at the psychological moment. Andy looked around astonished, dropped a frying pan. and made for the opposite door as if he had seen a ghost. Sandy walked over to the cupboard where he kept his “things,” took uut his apron and cap and started to get ready the evening meal for the men as if he had never been awav. On after the other the hungry workers dropped in. and seeing Sandy at his old post, showed their astonishment. hut did not dare question lfim as to facts. Sandy’s sharp tongue .was too well known. The manager, however. ventured to ask the cause of Sandy’s early return and Sandy politely informed him:— \es, I v*- had my spree, and for the first time in my life I’ve had lull value for my money. You leave it at Boss, I’ve had a real proper Christmas spree.” And Sandy .smiled whimsically as he turned to lift a beautiful batch of bread from the oven.