AN UNEQUAL CONTEST.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XII, Issue XIV, 7 April 1894, Page 327

AN UNEQUAL CONTEST.

TOLD BY THE BOXER. HAD not Been him f° r 801116 months. Not, I think, <'!& since the time when I thought I wanted to learn to jfjC box, and after a few visits to Shoreditch found that — this was an illusion. He was still swollen of face and large of ear, and be was half chewing, half smoking a cigar of a singular difficult brand. •’Ow goes it?’ he asked me familiarly. The train bad left Paddington. * ’Os's the world using you, gnv’nor, eh ? Bin up to the old boxing show in Anchor street litely ? I’ve ’ad some rum jobs, I ’ave, sence I sor you lawst.’ He put one foot up on the cushions and looked at the charred end of his cigar, and shook his head thoughtfully and said nothing. I knew that if I asked him for information concerning the rum jobs I should not get it. Presently he put up the window so that the world and Westbonrne Park should not hear, and in a hoarse confidential voice (in language which I have slightly varied at times) told this tale. Mister Thomson was what I call a plain-looking swell—a tall half-baked sort of young gent. I met him at a racemeeting, and I met him once or twice afterwards, and he always passed the time of day to me, and I always passed the time of day to him. He dressed well, and he had rooms in Jermynstreet. His father was a big iron-founder name Ebenezer Thomson. He called himself Cbolmondley Thomson. I was with Jimmy Parser—l lay you don’t know Jimmy Purser—one night in the gallery at the Trav. There were a lot of good turns, and when the number went up for the Sisters Somerford the Johnnies came back to their stalls and the house got quiet. • Wot’s up now ?’ I said to Parser. Purser is a chum of mine. • You wite,’ said Parser ; ‘you wite till you see ’em kick. Then you’ll see wot’s up.’ ‘There’s that Thomson toff dabn there,’ I said. I pointed to the front row of stalls. ‘ He’s gone fair dotty on one of ’em,’ said Purser. (Purser’s a man who somehow gets to know all the news. Regular devil for society is Parser.) ‘ I’ve took her note apon note from the club from him, addressed “ Miss Gertrude Somerford.” She won’t have nothing to say to him.’ The orchestra played the prelude, started it again, and there ran on the stage the Sisters Somerford. • ’Oo are they ?’ 1 asks Parser. ’ Well bred and ’ard up,’ he said. ‘ So are you well bred and ’ard up !’ • It’s a pawsitive fact,’ declared Purser. • Nab, then,’ said Parser to me, nudging me on the side. • Wotch.’ The dance began. It was a skirt dance, and before the two girls bad danced for half a minute the entire hall was

breathless. Mr Cbolmondley Thomson down in the stalls stood up unconsciously, and the other stalls cried at him as one man. * Sit down there ! Sit down I* I watched young Mr Thomson. He groped under the stall for something and took it out, and pulled some tissuepaper off and held it in his hand. Then, as the two girls whisked round and finished with their one swift eccentric kick he threw it—a big bouquet—at the feet of the dark sister. They were bowing and took no notice. ‘ Tike the flahrs !* shouted Parser.

The dark sister seemed to observe the bunch for the first time. She stepped forward and took it.up. Cbolmondley Thomson’s face Hashed with delight, and be looked round proudly at the stalls. As he did so Miss Somerford the dark went quickly with the bouquet to the corner, presented it with a quaint old-fashioned courtesy to a bald old man who played triangle and drum and one or two other things. Then she retired.

* Well,’ said Parser, when the hall had finished its roar, * she is a wonner if you like.’ A strong woman came next—Mademoiselle Biauner: a tall, muscular girl who did everything that nobody else could do, and nothing that anybody else could do. Me and Purser went downstairs.

‘Good evening, sir,’ said Purser. Mr Thomson was standing outside the entrance. * Rum sort of a evening, ain't it? Anything in my way ? My friend Plant, sir.’ And introduced me. Mr Thomson put his glass in his eye and looked at us both hard and steadily. * Look here, Parser,’ he said at last. ‘ Yes, sir.’

* Can I depend upon yon ? What ? ’ ‘ Well, rawtber,’ said Parser modestly ; ‘ awst any one that knows me. Don’t awst Jim Purser ’imself. Awst ’

* It’s good enough to try, anyhow. What did you say this man’s name was ?’

* This gent’s nime,’ said Purser, pointing to me, *is Plant. And a very good nime too for our line of business.’ Mr Cbolmondley Thomson did not laugh. He thought for a while, looking at me and looking at Purser. ‘ I’ll risk it,’ he cried. • A girl can’t expect to have it all her own way. A man isn’t going to be trampled on.’ The lady athlete, Mademoiselle Brauner, having finished her turn, was stepping into her cab at the stage door. The two Miss Somerfords, in long scarlet cloaks and hoods, were with her. Their brougham pulled up alongside the kerb.

‘Yes, we have two more turns.’said the darker Somer ford.

‘ And I, alas !’ said the French girl, • I have only joost one. I see you 'gain, is it not, this evening ?’ ‘ Why, yes. Till then good-bye.’ Mr Thomson, half hidden by me and Purser, watched the closed brougham drive off. Then he sighed and spoke.

• Come on, Purser,’ he said, determinedly ; • we’ll try it to night.’ Purser took charge of the job. Jim Parser (I wish yon knew Jim), he’s a man that is all there, if you understand my meaning. Mast hold the ropes ; must have it all bis own way. * Don't get worrying me with a lot of questions, Plant,' he said when he came back, ‘ but jest leave everything to me and do as I tell you.* It was nearly ten o’clock, and we had to be quick. I found the Somerfords’ coachman, and it was my job to make him stupid. I did it. It was my job, too, to get into his clothes and sit up on that box. 1 did that too. I reckon I did my part or the work a fair treat. Purser kept a general eye on things, and Mr Cbolmondley Thomson went home to his rooms in Jermyn street. * At eleven fifteen I shall expect you,’ he said, as he left. ‘You trust to me, sir. Keep your eye on Purser and he will pull you through. Why, I’ve been mixed up in jobs a jolly sight orkarder an this, and a jolly sight more ’ ‘ Hold your row !’ said Mr Thomson, and turned away. They came out of their last hall just before eleven. Mdlle. Brauner was again with them, and they were all chatting amiably. ‘Send your cub away, Mam’selle Brauner, and come with us. Yoa live my way. Home, James.’ Mlle. Brauner lifted her long fur cloak and stepped in ; the other two followed, and I drove off Purser followed running. 1 was muffled up, and I didn't see how they could recognize me from Adam or any one else. In Charing cross-road two got out. Parser bad told me that the Miss Somerfords did not live together—for they were not really sisters—and it was the one that lived further on in Victoria street that I had to drive to young Thomson’s place. Purser came up breathless and flurried to close the door and receive sixpence for his attention. They were chattering now, and just looking round I was relieved to see that only one of the scarlet cloaks bad got out, and that wasn't the dark one. ‘ Yes, you must come in for a moment, Mam’selle,’ she was saying to the fur-cloaked girl. ‘ Just for one moment. Good-bye, Gertie.’ She came back and kissed the one in the brougham. ‘ Good-bye, Gertie, dear. You’ll get home all right, won’t you ? Victoria-street, James.’ Purser ran round to the off side and jumped up beside me We saw the scarlet cloak and the sealskin coat disappear In a few minutes we were in Jermyn street. "Low me, miss ’ Parser has his hand over her mouth in a moment. I opened the door quickly with the key he passed to me, and with no struggling at all she goes upstairs. ‘Thenk Gawd,’l whispers to Purser, * thenk Gawd she isn’t a scratches’ ‘ A lidy to see you, sir.’ We half pashes her into the dim-lighted little diningroom where Cholmondley Thomson, palo and anxious, waited for us. ‘My dear Miss Somerford ’ —coming forward. ‘ You can go ’ —turning to us. We wait for a moment on the mat outside. • Can you forgive the little dodge that has succeeded in bringing you here? ’Course, it makes a man feel an awful goat, but really you know it’s all for the sake of you. And now that you have gone so far as to come here, why you’ll have some sup ’ Whack ! 1 happened to be near the chink of the door, and I could see better than Parser could. Whack, whack, whack ! and smack, smack, smack 1 and thump, thump, thump ! A groaning, a muttering in French Then more groaning. I held Purser back to stop him from inteifering. She came out to the doorway adjusting the borrowed scarlet cloak, and pulling oil*and throwing away her gloves. ‘ I sail demand of you, Mister Thomson,’ she says quite calmly, ‘a leetel reclame. You can say how ver’strong is Mademoiselle B-auuer, the strongest womans in the whool world. It will do me ver’ much goods. Goo’ night, m’sieu. I ’ope you sleep well, but I have doots.’

We went forward to stop her. She sent each of usspraw ling.

‘I saw your game, my veil >ws,’ she says, pausing a moment on the staircase ; ‘it was ver’ excellent game, and I enjoy it much. Quite so good as football, and more—much more —amusing ’

Now hark to this. Young Mister Thomson not being able to show his face in town—for a very good reason — went home and set to work at the business. Ami it’s made a man of him. Made a man of him. He's getting on like

‘ Slough !’ The train prilled up. ‘This is Slough,’ I ventured to remark, as Mr Plant stopped his story.

‘So it is,’ he said. ‘ This is what you may call my dtstinition.' He opened the carriage-door and stepped out. Then he whispered confidentially : • Ere. I sy. Mark me. I’m a going to rush ’em ’ere for my ticket. I never books further than Westban Pawk when Icomes dahn ’ere.’