Australian Tales and Adventures.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue 2055, 15 April 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

Australian Tales and Adventures.

No. SU

CASTLEMAINE JOE.

By Grosvenor Bunster.

When it was told among the miners at Woods’ Point, that Caeilemaine Joe was ficing to marry Lizzie Hopkins, there was mnali wonderment and not a little laughter among them, lor Joe didn’t somehow, satisfy the idea of a married man. Certainly Jos il:d not satisfy the idea of Lizzie Hopkins's husband. Hhe was the belle of the point; a little dotand-go-ono kind of beauty, with a perl nose, and big brown eyes, and rosy Uns, and a constant sauey smile on her luce, and the daintiest figure, from bust to ankle, that ever crazed the lover of material ch;irn;?. Hut Joe I Lord preserve us I hero was a contrast: a fellow over six feet high, with a blonde beard usually highly charged with dust; a fellow who was pock-marked, who seemed as though he had been born in his hair, and had taken hair thereafter, as a matter of no moment in relation to comb and brush ; r, man with the shoulders of a giant, end the fist of a prize-fighter ; a great awkward, shy shambling fellow like this, to wed red tins and brown curls, and brown eyes, and Januy beauty, such as Lizzie Hopkins owned —why it was monstrous. The roars of laughter, the jokes, the incredulity of some, the anger of others-all proved that it was monstrous at any rate to the crowd at Woods Point, and the Raspberry, and Jericho and the B.B.; for the news was alt round the district—aye. as fat as the Thompson, four hours alter Jack Harper had told it on the All Nations. Indeed, it is questionable whether any news—even the story of some tremendous crushing of the Morning Star, or a big nugget out of the Jordan—would have created greater excitement. Kvon the swells wondered and rxclaimcd. The jolly Commissioner at Jericho swore it was “a saoritoice, bedad ; ” and that sturdy philosopher, the Link Manager, grinned acquiescence. Rut there waa the fact - Joe was engaged to the prettiest girl between Melbourne and the Point.

It is easy to discover the cause of Joe’s friends’ wonderment. In the first place, Joe wn- an ugly follow—though ho bad a winning smile and a kindly face. Then Joe was shy, awkward, retiring. To be sure, Joe was rich ; hie. share iu the Bung trco claim was worth soma thousands ; and Joe was known to be a kind-hearted, honest, large snulcd fellow, and hadn’t an enemy at the I’oint; but what of all this? He was not the man to marry such a pretty girl as Lizzie Hopkins. Joe was terribly chaffed about this coming marriage, hut he bore it with his usual stoicism. He set to work at once, and built a comfortable house in the valley in which the c’aim be and his partners held was situated ; and he packed up quite a wonderful quantity of furniture from Melbourne, amongst which was a piano. How this instrument was ever got over “The Flour Bag” and down the “ Gentle Annie” declivities, was, and ever will be, a mystery to all who know anything of the character of those stupendous hills. However, it was got safely to Joe's house, and formally made OVM to the bride in prospect. UorfnnaMr ijK, the purpose of Joe's gift, Liasia om|HHH| very fairly, and was highly ddUaHH the present. The mtrfjajs solemn and his bride’s mothsr, VWHIHRBHB a keen eye for the main chance, wnoteplfc small store on Emerald Hill. Joe, with bis usual liberality, handed over a conplc of hundreds to this dame, with which she and Lizzie repaired to Melbourne to purchase the wedding outfit. Joe remained at the I’oint to superintend the completion of his arrangements ; for he came out in fine style, painting and papering his house as no house hitherto erected in that part of the ever had been decorated. Joe was working at this labor of love the morning after the departure ot bis sweetheart, when Jack Harper, the gentleman digger—the idlest, wittiest handsomest scamp at the Point—strolled up. “ Morning, Joe. Busy, old boy 7” “ Bather, Jack,” answered Joe, “ I’m putting the finishing stroke to this here crib.” “My word, you are making it smart. A tegular bower, Joe, for your pretty bird. I suppose you'll ask a fellow to the wedding?” At this Joe sniggered, and said that all his friends were to be present. Then he pointed out the several rooms of the house; one of which, he ostentatiously told Mr, Harper, was to be bis wife’s “ boudwoire.”

“ For," said he, simply, “ though I'm only a common man, and never shall be tu company for swells, Lizzie ia a lady, and by George, I'm going to keep her as a lady." It was singular that Mr. Harper turned away his head and blushed deeply as Joe said this ; hut he did, and never spoke a word (or a couple of minutes, when he said that Joe was a lucky fellow. “ Ah,” answered Joe, “ I know I am. Lord bless you, Jack, 1 know better than you or the other chaps, what a ugly, awkward chap I am ; and 1 tiii wonder how it was Lizzie ever took me. But she has, bless her, and I’m agoin’ to give my life to make her happy, Jack, as in duty bound.” Mr. Harper’s face was still very red, and his manner far from cool and composed as usual, as be listened to Joe’s simple rhapsody. He changed the conversation very suddenly. “Joe,” said he, “I’m going to town today. May be 1 shall see your intended. Any message 7" Joe looked up, scratched hia head, and considered for a few moments. “ I 'spose " said he at last, “ its the right thing to send a feller’s compliments. That’s the stylo, aint it Jack. Vnu know." “ I’ll take your love Joe,” answered Mr. Harper airily “ ihnt'x the style, f'umplimriitc why Joe you are a cold lover." And here Mr. Harper’s laugh was a little too hearty to be genuine. Joe looked sheepish. “Why, you see,” ho presently said, “I aint up to these things. Von aay, Jack, anything as you think will please the little gal. And / say, mebbe they’ll run short, ot the old woman keep ton tight hold of the cash. I'll send L : z another hundred, Jack, as you can give to her unbeknownst. Yes that's the kind of message.” The delight which evidently animated Joe at this discovery, was so apparent, that Mr. Jack Harper laughed again ; but somehow, there was not the usual ring in this laugh. " As you like," he said. “ By the way, you’re in luck lately with your orushings. Could you lend a fellow a trifle, Joe. I'm going to sell in Melbourne, and I’ll pay you back when I return." Joe consented heartily; and when Mr. Harper started on his journey he carried £2OO of Joe’s money in his purse. But for all this, he did not carry hia usual jovial look with him. “ You're a good fellow, Joe,” said he, as Joe and ho parted, “and I'm z rascal. Shake hands, and God bless you whatever happens." It was not until he had got some miles on his journey that he heaved a sigh, and broke into a cheerful whistling of “Begone dull care." And as Mr. Harper was ao constitutionally gifted as to be able to carry out the spirit of this ditty without much trouble, he was all himself ere he pulled up for the night at “ Paradise Plains.” Meanwhile, Joe waited for the happy day in such simple confidence that in his case there could be no application of the adage, “Many a slip between the cup and the lip.” He brightened up immensely. He attired his gannt figure in wonderful slop garments. He had hia hair out, hia beard trimmed, and really, compared with Joe ot the past, looked quite a new, suia and span, renovated Joe. And as though love had sought to make the best of its victim, Joe came out intellectually, in a manner to astonish his friends. For the first ;time, it was discovered that Joe had wit, that Joe oould sing, that Joe, in fact, had hertolora been an Imposition. It was no strange thing, however, to find out that Joe had a generous and hospitable spirit, and that nothing gave him mote pleasure than to entertain his friends. Joe kept open house. “ Lots of lush,” said Swipey Jim to a croney, “Lots of the very best. I’m agoin' up agin to-night, which Tl be the last spree we'll have afore Joe's swished.” Swipey Jim referred to a grand supper with which Joe had determined to celebrate the last evening ot hia bachelor existence; and to which all his friends, fat and wide, had been invited. Joe was in high spirits that evening. He came out in tremendous style. He told stories, cracked jokes, and sang songs with marvellous success. Jos was a triumph that evening; and not a man was there but wondered how all along be had made a great mistake in his estimation of Joe. To be sure Joe was still homely and plain of feature —nothing could alter that, although the barber and stop-seller had somewhat modified it —but his homeliness was forgotten in the general admiration and surprise ot his friends, at this display of social accomplishments. The mirth, and laughter, and jollity of the company were in full swing, when suddenly a sharp rap was heard at the door. Joe quickly opi ned it, holding a candle high above his head. " Holloa I” ha roared, "why it's mother and Liz -Hooroar !" As ha spoke, Mrs. Hopkins entered, flashed and agitated, and sinking into a chair, burst into tears. Joe stood raotionlc°s; his mouth wide open, and his eves expressing the wildest bewilderment. Joe’s friends looked from one to tho other, with sundry suggestive winks and grimaces. “ Oh dear, oh dear," cried the old lady, rocking herself to and frn, “ to think my gal, as 1 've reared Hd leaded, and edicated with

to much cars, should play me such a trick. ’ Joe started, and hi" face grew deadly white. Then he crossed the floor, and laid hie broad hand heavily on the old woman’s shoulder. “ What is'it ? he asked, in such a hollow, constrained voice, that his friends started. “ She's gone,” cried the mother. Joe slowly passed bis broad band across his eyes, as though to clear them from some mist; and grasping the back of a chair, looked wildly around. •’ Do you mean to say,” he said slowly, “that my Lizzie has runned away 7" In answer, the old lady, who had been fumbling in her pocket, handed him a letter. “ Head it," he said to Bill Tucker, his mate in the claim, and Bill read as follows ; Dear Joe, I cannot ask you to forgive me; what I have done is too cruel, too ungrateful. But I write only to tell you how I have struggled to da my duty to you, and .have failed. I w&a wrong to encourage yon; wrong to promise to be your wife. I loved another man, though I know that in steadfast truth and Mterosity of heart, be is not to be compared I love him, and I have gone bis Good bye dear you may i think of job, Joe. Be was set hard together. his face; only love, eompwdH|E^Hbe^lP utterahle sorrow. He sank and covered his face with big moments no one spoke to him. ever, Bill Tucker, placing hil shoulder, bade him cheer up. “ Hurry up old man," cried with an oath, “ track 'em down “ Don't bother your head abont —she aint worth thinking on,’’ Jim, “ 1 alius thought she and- " But Kwipey Jim paused caught a glance of Joe’s eyes that feel particularly small. " Boys," said Joe, standing up and RpMH ing in a slow and measured manner, different to his usual slipshod speech, “ boys, you’re working on a wrong lead. Don't let no man say a word agin Lizzy. I take it you chaps don't know how I loved the girl. I'll try and tell ye. If she’d come to me and said, “ Joe, I don’t love you, Joe; I've told you a lie; I'm fond of so-and-so, and it will break ,my heart if I marry you—what would 1 have done ? Why, I'd ha’ asked her who the chap was, and 1 would ha’ gone to him and said, 11 Look here, the girl I love is sweet on you. Do you want money? What is mine is hers, seeing that I love her dearly. The man she loves, boys, is my friend. All 1 own, is hers and his, if they want it. Maybe you think this mean. Well, maybe it is, bat its trae.” “ Du you mean to say,” said Yankee Dan, “ that you aint agoin* to track the feller as took your gal away. Joe’s head turned—he's gone—gone by thunder,” and here the speaker expectorated contemptuously on the new carpet. Joe did not answer him. Turning to the others, he said— Boys, we’ll close up for to-night. It isn't a very jolly ending, is it ? " and he smiled sadly, “ but after all, what oonld I expect? I ought to have known that its not in nator' for a fresh, pretty, winsome gal like ■f Lizzie (I’ll call her my Lizzie yet, pleui) li care lor such a scarecrow as I am. I Jni a fool. But God bless her and prosper her, wherever she is. I'll say good night, boys, now,"—and Joe sat down wearily, and waved bis friends away. When they had gone, he turned to the old lady, who eat snivelling and sobbing, and casting wistful glances at Joe. At last he spoke—- “ Mother,” said he, " I’m agoing to leave this here place. I don’t think I could bear to stop. This here house and all the traps in it I give to you. You shall have the papers all right and regular to-morrow. I don’t know where 1 shall go ; but if ever yon should hear of Lizzie, let me know how she gets on. Send your letter to the post office at Sydney. If she’s well and happy, never mind telling me; but if she’s ill, or poor, or in trouble, write at once. You'll promise, mother.” The old lady, who was overcome by surprise at Joe’s liberality under the circumstances—a course of conduct entirely Incomprehensible to her narrow and selfish nature —promised willingly enough, and Joe bade her good-night, leaving bet in full possession of the “ Bower." Going to his hut, he held a long convocation with bis partner. In the morning, without a word of farewell, he was gone. Years afterwards, I held a clerk’s position in the office of a Life Assurance Company, It was part of my duty to check the claims which were periodically made upon the Company. One day a claim was made on behalf of the executors of one Joseph Hudson, on a life policy for t’JOO. transferable to Henry and Joseph Hudson Harper, children of John and Elizabeth Harper, of Melbourne, in the oolony of Victoria. 1 sat, for some moments, looking at the papers through the tears which surged into my eyes. This was Castlemaine Joe’s Ivevenge.

Von Moltke's Home -Manim! Vn Moltke who has the rtputuiinn of being able to hold his tongue in aevcu different languages must be rather a bad port i f person to “interview"; but a correspondnt of the y.irlh (fininnt <!»:<■«■■ has succeeded in getting inside the Fchloss Creisau, in Bileem. where the Marshal spends the greater pari of the year with his nephew, Captain W.iini’n von Moltke, who is also bis heir. Ihe ■Schloss is described as being a !h | '.v square building of only two stories, approached by a broad flight of steps and a fereetyle. The reception-rooms are upon the ground floor, and are very plainly furnished, while in the hall are two bronze guns, brought from one of the for!s outside I’aris, and given to the Marshal by the Emperor, an equestrian statue of whom, in bronze, together with slaluos of Frederick the Great and the Marsha! himself, is also in this hall. The living rooms of the Marshal are very plain, his bed-room containing only a low camp-bed and furniture, with a writing desk and boeik-shJw, the walls being covered with maps and the genealogical tree of the Moltke family. There are several rooms filled with glass oases, containing the presents and addresses which have been presented to him, notably addresses from the towns of Berlin and Dresden, the latter of which is in letters of gold upon a silver plate, while an address from the town of Essen, where the Krupp guns are made, is engraved upon a piece of steel. Other cases contain panoplies of arms which the Marshal has collected during his travels in the East, and besides, a sword which was given him by the Germans in the linked States after the war with France. Many of these arms ire engraved with the Moltke motto, “ Krst wmgen, dann wagen" (First weigh, then date). In the courtyard is a colossal bust of the Emperor, and the correspondent of the \,-r'h <ll rni-n fiuyttr had the presence of mind to remark, as he was being hurled outside the gates, that they were guarded by two enormous statues of gladiators.

A Practical Prayer—-' little piri had been visiting a ju■■ <r neighborhood, and was oreatly grieve') widi tin; racs amt dirt <>f the Chhdren. At mpht, when she came to say her evening prayer, she added in her usual petition thesi wolds : “And hless the poor, rancid children : pive (hem kind fathers and mothers and new elolhe‘4, ami gi?e them all a hath.