The First Day of the Holidays.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXV, Issue III, 21 July 1900, Page 112

The First Day of the Holidays.

A STORY OF THE SILVERTON CHILDREN. (Concluded.) "tint it?" asked Jim, eagerly, forgetting his recent feud with Madge.

"Yes." she nodded, equallv forgetful. "Come ou. then!” cried Jim. capering with impatience. “We shall only just have time.” Tine fru.i-garden was across the road, and like a whirlwind uhey all swept towards it and slammed’ the gate. "Got the handkerchief?” asked Madge, who evinced no interest in orchids. Jim produced one of fine white silk. "I say! This is father’s! Where did you get it?” “Out of his drawer, It s more tempting.” “Well, we shall have to tie it tight. S’pose they snatch it away! There’d lie an awful row!” Madge sat down in the middle of the path and adroitly tied one end of a reel of white cotton to a corner of the handkerchief, while the others flew to the rockery, and, cautiously climbing up till their eyes were on a level with the top of the wall, looked anxiously down the road. “They’re coming,” announced Jim, dropping heavily into the currantbushes. “Quick! Give it to me!” Seizing the handkerchief he laid it carelessly on the path not far from the gate, and then, drawing the reel underneath, knelt on the path with one eye at the keyhole. “Get the water-cans ready,” he ordered. “and the syringe. “That’s the red-haired chap coming. I know his voice!" The girls and Phil rushed to obey, chuckling with excitement. “Don’t let them see you! Come down, young Phil! Don’t be such a donkey!” eried Jim. agitatedly. “You'll spoil it all! You’ll ”

By this time rhe school children by twos and threes had begun to turn the bend of the road.

The Silvertons, lying in ambush, held their breath, while with shouts and calls they came rushing down the road. Several passed the handkerchief unnoticed. At last, and it was the voice of the "red-haired ehap.” they heard a welcome “’Allo!” Flesh and blood could stand it no longer. A row of eyes appeared suddenly above the wall just in time to see the boy stoop, and the handkerchief, with a convulsive twitch, disappear under the gate. Shrieks of smothered laughter from within, followed by howls of exasperation from without, and a frantic banging and kicking at the garden gate.

“There they are! shouted the redhaired boy. leader of the gang between whom and the Silvertons deadliest warfare raged. “Climb up, you chaps! Yes, you can! 'Ere. stand on my shoulder. Come on. Bob! ’Ere, oul, climb over and give it ’em!” Quick as thought. Jim sprang from the gate, juipping the garden-

"Now, Norah, on this side. Madge, you come here. Nellie, lower down. They’re coming again. Be ready.”

syringe into the can in passing, he bounded up i..e rockery, and, crouching just beneath the wall, waited—a row of breathless Silvertons below.

* uffing and panting outside, mingled with shouts of encouragement, and

finally a thatch of hair appearing aoove the rim of the wall, Jim aimed —Sn ! —ping!—bang! followed by a scuffle, choking, spluttering, and cries of rage. “Up you go! All of you!” yelled the red-haired youth. “Give it ’em! There’s only 'arf a dozen of ’em! Come on!”

“Hand up the water-cans!” shouted Jim. in the tone of a commanding officer; and with alacrity his force obeyed. "Get sticks!”

They tore up a row of stakes which doubtless served some useful agricultural purpose.

“Now, Norah, on this side! Madge, you come here. Nellie, lower down. Phil, take the other syringe. Wait! Don't hurry! Wait till their heads show, and then rap their knuckles.” One moment of suspense, and then, with a shout from Jim of “Now! all together!” syringes went off, knuckles were rapped, and, amidst screams of excitement from besiegers and besieged, the assailants were once more driven back.

“More water!” yelled Jim. “We shall do them! Quick! quick!” And the girls, instinctively recognising Jim’s strategical ability, stayed not to reason why, but yielded that prompt feminine obedience so dear to the heart of man. “They’re coming again! Be ready!” But all at once Jim’s voice faltered. Then he dropped from the wall like a stone, whispering “Uncle John!” The valiant, resourceful officer of a moment ago was no more. Helpless, and very frightened, he stood staring hopelessly before him, seeing no prospect but capitulation with ignominy.

It was here that feminine resource came in to save a situation before which masculine courage was unavailing.

“Listen! Listen!” urged Madge "They’re running away. They're awfully frightened! He thinks they were getting over to steal the friut. of course, and they are in too much of a fright to explain. Quick! Take the cans away. Phil, put down the syringe. Come into the hot-house. Quick!”

"Why into the hothouse?” began Jim, whose genius was to command rather than to obey.

But Madge seized him by the collar and drove him with the rest.

When tncle John opened the gate, the garden was apparently empty;’ but a stroll down one of the gravel paths brought to view a decorous procession emerging from the cueumberhouse and about to enter the vinerv. "Oh. Uncle John!” observed Madge in delighted accents, recognising him with a start of_ pleased surprise, we've looked alt the curious little plant you mentioned. It is funny. Does it always grow like that? And now will you show us the orchids? or sl<ll we ”

"Gently, gently!” observed Uncle John. “One question at a time. There have been no boys in the garden, I suppose?”

"Oh. no. Uncle John,” said Madge with truth certainly, but also with more artless surprise in her voice than Jim could have managed with after years of practice.

“Ah, I was just in time to frighten the young rascals, then! They Were after the fruit, no doubt. The orchids? Y'es; here they are. Now I want you all to notice.”

A meekly attentive little group followed Uncle John from house to house, while he pointed out curious freaks of Nature, discoursed upon the habits of plants, and generally trained the dawning intelligence. till Madge, observing Jim's growing restiveness, thought that they "ought to go in to lunch.”

“Fraulein is away, you know, Unde John, and this is our first dav of holidays, and mamma likes us to be punctual, for Phil was furtively “popping" fuchsia-buds.

"1 he first day of the holidays, is it?" returned their uncle as’ they neared the gate. "Well. I hope you will use them profitably.” There was a feeble murmur of "Yes, Uncle John.” while as they emerged into the road every eye was apprehensively turned towards the still dripping wall.

“Ah, Bates has been syringing those cherry-trees, I see!” observed Uncle John, stopping to regard the rivulets meandering down the road. "1 must tell him to be more careful, or we shall have complaints from

passers-by.” "Yes. Uncle John.” murmured the meek chorus once more. "Thank you,” said Madge prettily. "We have enjoyed our morning so much.” And, indeed, for the first day of the holidays, and considering that things had scarcely warmed up as yet, it hadn’t been so bad after all. THE END.