The Auckland Post Office.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXVII, Issue V, 3 August 1901, Page 213

The Auckland Post Office.

“Ah?” “Yes; but can’t you devise some better way of expressing your views than by everlastingly firing ‘Ah?’ loaded with a hump-backed interrogated point at eveything I say? I was just observing, Mrs Noodlesby, that these diggings are becoming

overcrowded with a congested population of chickens. We ought t<> be : gin killing them off.” “Quite right, Peleg, my dear. Several sizable friers were picking up scraps around the kitchen door this afternoon.” "Exactly. There’s a young ingrain polka dot rooster with a lordly strut in his walk, and I propose catching and executing him in the morning.” "By yourself?” “Yes. Why not?” “1 suspect you can’t do it, dear.” "Faugh! Can’t catch a little, wab-ble-shanked spring chicken? Bet yer dollar I can!” “But wouldn’t it be better to take him from the roost to-night. Peleg? You are getting rather too old to run chickens down when there’s an easier way of securing them.” “Old! Me old? Phebe Noodlesby, I am now fully resolved upon catching that ingrain polka dot on foot, and doing it alone, to-morrow morning. Hear my' warble?” And he shambled off to bed. mumbling and grumbling as he went. Never was rooster, young and inexperienced in the ways of this deceitful world, more completely astounded than when, having just begun scratching for an early woim. the figure of Farmer Noodlesby came bearing down upon him with blood in his eye and both coattails flapping in the morning breeze. The rooster scurried to one side, unlimbered a foot or so of neck, and gave vocal utterance to several dozen successive notes of alarm. Noodlesby reeove ed bis equilibrium in a moment, tackl'd his course and went frantically galloping after the rooster. The race was interesting from the start. The rooster described an eccentric ellipse of wide dine sions. Noodlesby following a close t n r eet in the rooster's wake, and reaching after the doomed fowl as if life and all material glory depended upon his exertions. Entering upon their second tour of the premises, Noodlesby, waxing' furiously impatient, began warming to bls work. So did the rooster. Noodlesby’s breath ec e and went at the rate of sixty-odd revolutions per minute. His mouth stood picturesquely ajar, and his eves resembled a pair of overdone ginger urn: s. But be w-s raining on the rooster, that was clearly in evidence, and it inspired

him with renewed zeal and longer strides. The ten feet of distance between them was quickly reduced to four, three, two and one-half, two, one and one-half, and Noodlesby. spreading his hands apart as if in preparation for a flight through space, threw himself forward and caught his hands full of sand burs! The rooster darted under the fence and disappeared, exeited and cackling, in the jimson patch. “Can I help you, dear?” It was Mrs Noodlesby softly' addressing her husband over the fence.

“You can go into the house and keep yer mouth shet.” he promptly snapped. In less time than it takes to record it Noodlesby had cleared the palms of his hands of surplus vegetation, bad thrown bis cost in one direction his vest in another, and his hat in a third, and with head thrown back was careering-, flushed and panting, through the jimson patch, the fugitive polka dot leading the way and setting the pace. The devious windings and turnings and doublings made by that pair of bipeds are simple indescribable.

The rooster, convinced that the jimson patch had become a delusion and a snare, broke cover and with wings outstretched and voice pitched to a declamatory key took his pursuer around the barn, through the pig pen and across the feed lot, where in making his exit through the barbed wire fence Noodlesby left a sample patch of his trousers us big as his two hands, and another patch of skin as big as a button, anil then with a dozen other fleeing, clamourous companions the rooster plunged under the corn crib and was lost to view.

"Ha, Im! You skulking idiot, I’ll fetch ve!”

Noodlesby went down on all-fours, peered cautiously under the crib, followed his eyes with one hand. and. chuckling audibly, drew his squaking, fluttering victim forth by the legs. Phebe! Phebe Noodlesby!" he yelled. "I’ve caught the varmint!” He came stalking up to the back door five minutes later, hot mid palpi fating, but jubilant, and laid the de capitated rooster down upon the stone St To.. f ° r Mrs ir.sp; i-tion. “Which one did you get. Peleg?" his wife sweetly inquired. "Ingrain polka dot, of course! Think I d go floundering all over creation trying to exterminate a miserable rickety- critter like this just to entertain you with pleasant surprises and keep you in good humour and then gather in the wrong bird!" I’h, uh-h' Not if Old man Noodlesby knows himself.” Noodlesby looking up f ron i a plate of boiled chicken and fluffy dumpimgs a t dinner time, abruptly asked: dot?”* 410 ’ WaS ' f the I»'lka ■ nO; of co,irse m>t. It was the blooded two dollar prize taker von h rotitrhf home f ronl thp f ,, ir )l|s( out r skle.” * the P ° lka dOt c,o "' ,n F Noodlesby harp oned a luscious ihimplmg with his fork and went on with his meal in savage silence.