LUCKY BEGGARS.

Waikato Times, Volume 100, Issue 16815, 5 June 1926, Page 11

LUCKY BEGGARS.

THE LOT OF THE OTHER MAN. ALWAYS BETTER THAN OUR OWN. (By Kathleen O’Brien, in the Daily Chronicle.) The poor boy, digging in his father’s I little patch of garden, watched the farmer go by in his pony trap. “How happy the farmer must be!” ! sighed the poor boy, leaning on his spade, “lie has one of the prettiest houses in Hie neighbourhood, a fine horse to ride, and that dear little pony and trap. I expect he can buy a new suit of clolhes when he wants one, while I have to have my father’s old clothes cut down for me. And lie can have a good meal at least once a day, while I am often hungry when 1 go Lo bed. Lucky beggar!” The farmer, sitting in his pony trap near the market-place, saw the squire’s son standing beside his new motor car. “Mow happy the squire’s son must be!” sighed the farmer, “ho is young, good-looking, well off, and has been to the university, where he will spend i a lot of his lime in town, where there 1 is such pleasure, brilliance, and gaiety as wo country people never get a glimpse of. And he will go tbroad, too, and get to know the world; while I shall probably spend and end my days in the same little village where I began them. And now he has a fine new car all his own. I had meant to have one myself this year, but things have gone badly, and now I shall have to put it off again. I wish I had had his chances when I was his age. Lucky beggar!” The squire’s son, sitting in the dress circle on the first night of the new play to which all London had eagerly looked forward, listened to the storm of applause that greeted the young playwright as he came forward, when the play was over, to make his speech. “How happy the young playwright must be I” sighed the squire’s son, “he has four other plays already running in London, and is easily the mosttalked of man in town. Ilow splendid to be so brilliant, witty and popular! 1 suppose I am better-looking than he is. But looks count for precious little without something to back them, and I am a dull fellow for all that they tried to cram into me at Cambridge. People are quickly bored by my society Lord, I would give my good looks, and my new car, and even my footer Blue to be as brilliant and popular as the young playwright. Lucky beggar 1" The young playwright, leaning his elbow on the mantelpiece of his study, and his forehead on his hand, watched the embers dying in the grate. He had not switched on the light when he returned from the theatre, and the red glow from the fire in the dark was reflected in the plain, sensitive face that brooded over it. “How happy that ass Lord Summernoodle must be!” sished the young playwright, “and what virtue there is in a title 1 Like charity, it covers a multitude of incompctcncies. I should say he is about as exciting as a hurdygurdy on a wet Monday. Yet Loretta has thrown me over for him. Loretta of the lily face. Loretta of the Madonna brows, Loretta . . . Tcha! Loretta with the soul of a gimlet.. Heavens, her white beauty to-night in the part of Jessamine! So innocent, so fragile . . . icy-hearted, little devil. Oh, she loves me all right—she admitted that —but what would you, mon cher? One docs not get a part like Lady Summcrnoodlc every day in the week. I saw him in the box while I was making my spcecJi to those cheering boobies, and I thought, my boy, I'd give my brains, wit and brilliance for your tilte without the smallest hesitation, and take on your pimply mug into the bargain. Lucky beggar I”

Lord Summcrnoodlc watched his uncle, the Duke of Squandermerc, talking to a prominent member of the Cabinet.

"How happy Undo Squandermcrc must be!" sighed Lord Suinmernoodlo. "lie lias such personality, sudi presence; iie carries everything before him. Now, I am shy and awkward, and awfully frightened of important people, like the Cabinet Minister he is talking to. 1 know I shall be under Loretta’s thumb when we are married, and shan't be able to call my soul my own; and she won’t like me any the better for it. I’m not such a fool that I don’t know that Loretta is only marrying me for my title. If I had Uncle Squan'dcrmore’s personality L could call Loretta to heel with the dicker of an eyelash, and she’d adore me for it. Lucky beggar!” The Duke of Squandermere watched the poor boy digging in his lather's little patch of garden. “How happy that poor boy must tie!" sighed lhe Duke of Squandermere, "he has no worries, burdens or responsibilities. Jiis life is a round of simple conlenlmcnt. Whereas I have that little mailer of the Quong Pong Jong Kuliber Company on my mind .... live years’ hard ff I’m found out. ami I have an uneasy feeling that a Cabinet Minister has got wind of it . . . l’osilion, weal 111, personality! I would give all lliese in reliirii for that poor Imy's peace of mind.’ Lucky