AWFUL MOMENTS

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 150, 27 June 1931, Page 5 (Supplement)

AWFUL MOMENTS

THE FIFTH OF A SERIES OF TRUE ! | EPISODES Bl "MADCAP.” | J

SHOWING OFF Some wise person said “Vanity thj- name is woman.” or something of the sort, and if he did not quite hit the nail on the head, went somewhere near doing it. Probably the mistake lay in tacking “wo” on to “man.” but anyway the mistake is so trivial, that it is really not worth finding fault over, because though we do not quite have the "lion’s” •hare, the majority of us have more than is good for us, I don’t doubt, myself among the number. Although not all of us are afflicted by it in the same way, and, of course, we have it in a lesser or greater degree, according to the quantity of "Eve” stirred into our "mixture,” I shouldn’t wonder. There are three things women are more prone to be vain over than all others, and these are “faces.” •‘figures” and clothes. I must own to being just a tiny bit inflated over my achievements in the water. Not that I was anything out of the ordinary. I merely thought I was, which is quite different, for in one case you “know,” in the other you only "think,” and when you are compelled to “think” over a matter like that, you know you are nothing worth .writing home about. That’s how it was with me. T was not nearly so good, but what I might be better, and I came near drowning myself before I found it out, and after that I set to work to rid myself of all the vanity I could spare lest worse than drowning befell me, and I made so thorough a job of it. that I never “show off” any more, only when I cannot help doing it. which might be mor often than it is. but couldn’t well 1-e so. However, that is a mere dets''l and has nothing to do with what happened one day. when getting beyond myself I began to play high jinks in the water, without any heed to consequences. Among my relations I have a cousin, which is nothing out of the common, for most folk have them, but this cousin, in addition to being somewhat watershy, was also a girl, and of course, had her share of vanltv. although her form of v nn itv was far from being the same as mine. Should we elect to spend the day at the river, as we very often did. living near it. her vanity seldom allowed her to get beyond the water’s tdge and the “looking fetching” stage, while mine was never satisfied unless I was all in and looking a “nerfect fright.” This would not have mattered in the least, had she been content to go her way and let me go mine, but being my senior by a few years, and nerv»us as well, she wanted me to keep out of the water (or so nearly out of it that the ’itt.le you were in wouldn’t count), and do as she {id, stroll about and look pretty. T dare sav could have managed the “strolling.” but ■.« for the “looking pretty.” well. I know better than to attempt the impossible, so being wilful I set about doing the onposite to what she would have me do. intending at the same time to give her a few “thrills” just to let her see what she was missing, or more likely because I was bent on “showing off.” The day was glorious and the water was just one mass of sunshining dimples, an’ hold a lure that was irresistible to a wtfor lovo although a fall of rain some short time previously had nd ltd an extra quota of water to the rivet and caused it to flow more «w ; ftly Still, this did not make much differeic, otter than to give more zest to the frolic. So into Its inviting coolness I went, leaving my cousin in a smart little bathing suit and large gaily coloured sun-shade, to parade on obliging strips of sand which gave her a chance to wet her little pink toes, w-ithout endangering re * of her person. Out from the l.ait and ftafely I went, disdaining cau :cn : taking an iriptsh delight in scaring my cousin, whom I knew would be more nervous on my account than her own, because she had had ample ex-* perience as to how hot-headed and venturesome I could be when so inclined. and no doubt recognised this as being one of those occasions when her responsibility rested heavily upon her. I was on the point of turning back considering I had given my cousin a sufficient dose of anxiety for the time being, when I saw in the distance coming down stream a fair-sized tree that had evidently been washed down from its moorings by the recent rain, and was now bent on a voyage of discovery, or out for adventures on its own. No sooner ha.l I seen *he tree that I conceived the brilliant idea of swimming out to it, wi*h the fixed intention of going for a little joy r’de on it. Generally with me to think oi i thing is to do it or make an attempt. (Sometimes I have l>een known to do things without thinking, but this was not one of the times). So nlf I went, taking an angle that should bring the tree and I together with any sort of luck. I’m not sure whether I was good at calculating, or the tree obliging, but eventu illy aft, r some rather hard going. 1 found myself scrambling on to it, which was harder cf ; rcomj lishment than one would Ruppi/i. Hr weve.’. much to my glee. I. at 'out rt tnvself in an upririt position upon it. and balancing myself with outspread arms, began running along it back and forth, making first one end dip, then the other, though to be sure, the end .with the branches refused to dip as well as it should, but I did not get disagreeable over it, but let it have its own way. Glancing in my cousin’s direction, I saw her standing almost knee deep in the water, gesturing with one hand and wildly waving the sunshade with the other, and no doubt shouting as well, cou’d I have heard her, so to give her a real “hair-raiser” and to show off as

well, I daresay, I did a cart-wheel and managed not to fall into the river. So thrilled was I with my i>erformance 1 tried it again and again, but not always with the same success. More than once I took an impromptu header into the water, but I always came up in time to catch the tail end of the tree, bu I was really rather good a the business, having learnt “cart-wheeling” in my dancing exercises, and had practised falling off and getting on again, on a log an obliging uncle had put in “our swimming pool”’ to enable mvoslf and chum to do just that. Having amused myself thus for what semed but a few minutes. I looked towards where I thought my cousin would be, expecting her to be properly impressed, if nothing else, and ‘.hen it was my turn to get the "wind-up,” for instead of iny cousin just being a short distance away, there she was miles away. Well, no, not quite mile«, but that far she had the appearance of being not much bigger than a baby, and, in fact, looked moiv like an animated doll than a decent-sized human, as she scuttled here and there on the bank. Gee! This comes or showing off, I thought to myself, and immediately set upona a hurried search through my brain chamber to see if there was an idea left there that would help me out of my present predicament, but not one could I find. 1 appeared to be “stranded” in more ways than one, but perched on a fast drifting tree, in the middle of a fair-sized river (the Wanganui to be precise) did not appeal to me under prevailing conditions. I longed to be on land, but between me and it flowed much water, and that water seemed to have lost much of its enchantment. It looked frightfully deep, and I am sure it was just tearing along as fast as ever it could, not caring one scrap about me, and I could hear it chuckling wickedly to itself, as it sped along. How J wished I had been content to stay with my cousin and just wash my feet, and look orstty (if I could). Thinking things like that did not help, so I’d have to make up my mind to do something, for the longer I waited, the further I got. The easiest thing was to rtay where I was, but I did not relish the idea of being taken out to sea, when I did not have a return ticket, anyway. Besides, I had my doubts about that tree. It hardly seemed capable of taking care of itself let alone ol me. The cnly alternative that I could see was to Jump into the water pnd swim for it, and I hardly felt up to it in cold blood, because with the current going like it was, it seemed quite ross’.hle I’d drown before I'd get a ivwhere th?.-, is. of course, anywhere were I winted to. Well, when the chances are about even that you will either be battered to pieces, or plain drowned; why you choose the drowning, for one thing there will not be such a mess and fcr another you can go on swimming till the last gasp, if you are keen on swimming, so •landing as erect as I could on my rolling tnaft, I paused to gather all my strength, then t-iking a flying leap out into the fast, gliding water I went. Then began a struggle, one I have no wish to repeat. I strove for my life and so did the river. At times I felt like giving in, it was so much easier, but 1 couldn’t be a traitor to my clan’s motto, which translated from Gaelic is “Fight on. fight ever,” although I might prove traPjr to other things, so when the tide seemed going against me, I rested and floated with it. and then I would start the battle again. Though I put all the “ginger” I could into each stroke I was carried further and further down the river I can’t be sure I prayed. I do not think I had time, all my energies war? so bent on getting rryself out of the water, but if I did not I am sure I should have, for that hoar came near being my last. But I hung on, when there seemed little left to tang cn to (s< rr.etimes I really th nk my da-h of “hu’ldop” gets the better of my “,kyoterriei”), and at last after what seemed ages, I found myself in easier water and nearer the bank, though ever so much further down the riv»r than I desired to be, but that was a mere trifle compared with what I had just gone through, so I didn’t worry mucn. Poor . I hal the satisfaction of hauling mysUf «;p high and dry. with the help cf a clump of willows, and when I was sure I was rea ly ar.d ♦••uly out of the river rod not drowned, I flung myself down, not even waiting ‘o pi jk a soft piece, and some of the sticks and thing; * landed on were hard, t nd lying there ranting rnd breathing greit gasps of thankful- | nes®, T meditated on the fcolbhncus of gr.>rg way ’•> vanity. And if its other name Las to ba women: well. I won't be one. 1 wcuh ‘•ither be called “Eve.” and be frea nf vinify. When I revived sufficient I go* on t n my feet and made them plod 'heir wen t v w; y I.c.ivcward carrying me. Much further up the bank from where I landed I met my cousin, and the poor beggar did not now look at all fetching, and her smart, little suit looked woefully misused. I need not say I felt h “perfect wretch,” for I’ve no doubt everybody reached that, conclusion long ago, but you can also believe that I was honestly sorry. When both learned a lesson 1 can vouch for. When I go for a swim now, I go entirely for the swim and not to frighten inoffensive mortals. My cousin learned never to take me with her when she wanted to enjoy her bathe. So you 1 see we both profited by experience, and all is . well that ends well. And in this case I think , it was really so, hut I had some pretty awful moments before the end. all the same, and I | do hope I never have to duplicate them. “MADCAP,” Waitotara.