THE ATOM CLUB

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXI, Issue I, 4 July 1903, Page 62

THE ATOM CLUB

Atoni Club Rules and Regulations.

Study for Session 1903—“ Emerson’s Essays.” I. “Self-Reliance.” RULES. 1. Club fee for each member, 2s <sd p»r session. 2. Each member to read “Emerson” three hours a week (or six half-hours). 3. All MS. to be sent in to Editor of A.C. page, “Graphic” Office, Auckland, accompanied by stamps for return. 4. Fees to be paid in advance. REGULATIONS. 1. Session lasts from March to December. 2. Each member will be presentel with a badge on entering the Club. 3. All articles, essays, ete., written by members will be returned corrected and advised, if desired, when not published in A.C. page. 4. Questions and answers for “Who Knows” must be sent in to the office with full nan ” address, and nom de plume. WHO KNOWS’ Daphne.—Who is the author of the following lines—- " Never give up! It is wiser and better. Always to hope than once to despair.” REPLIES. E.M.G.—-Your quotation is from Coleridge’s “Christobel,” part 11. A Howick Romance. “Go to Howiek on a Panmure ’bus,” or “Go to Howick on a blue pig,” are expressions more forcible than elegant, and what that inoffensive little village has done to deserve such epithets will be forever shrouded in mystery. The first seems a reasonable and comfortable enough mode of travelling, but the latter, even allowing the somewhat unique animal to be procurable, would be no light matter. But somehow or other Howick has always been treated as a joke, the very mention of it will bring a genial smile to the face of even the gravest and busiest Auckland city man. Yes, Howick is our great joke, and we are proud of it. The 1i..1e village in question was revelling in the cool of a February evening. It had been a scotching day. the sun had blazed down, as only a New Zealand sun can, and had anyone courage to venture out at high noon he might have imagined himself passing through Goldsmith’s Deserted Village, so little life was there—every shutter and blind drawn and closed.

But now a light breeze had sprung up from the bay and revived the lethargic inhabitants. Women came to their doors and gossiped with their neighbours, children played in the gutter and made mud pies, dogs leaned against the fences and barked leisurely. The little street straggled down to the beach, where the village public-house, the Three Swaggers. stood facing the blue waters of the bay. Outside, seated on the benches drinking foaming mugs of ale, were a knot of old pensioners, soldiers, one time

belonging to the New Zealani Feneibles. they were jolly old souls, and cracked their jokes and fought their battle again and again amid villainous tobacco smoke and loud gaffaus. Farther up the beach, just in front of his cottage, old Timothy Pufflett sat smoking on the keel of an upturned boat. He cast many a longing glance at the group of ancients outside the Three Swaggers, and several times made as though he would join them: but each time glanced uneasily round, and then seeming to laek the courage, he finally sat down again.

“Dang the uzzy.” he exclaimed angrily, as he knocked the ashes out of his pipe. “The ’uzzy” was a polite reference to his daughter Amelia, who kept house for him.

It’s a pity if a man ean’t do wot *e likes at my time o’ life without ’er awatchin’ and a-spyin’ like a cat watehin’ a mouse," he grumbled. Years back old Timothy had also belonged to the New Zealand Feneibles, and in recognition of his services in his country’s cause he had been pensioned off by the Government, and received in addition a cottage and one acre of land. The late lamented Mrs Pufflett had departed this life some six years previously, and being a good woman and quite aware of the regrettable fact that her husband loved beer, she had tenderly commended him into the hands of her efficient offspring Amelia. There had been other young Puffletts, but they had long since grown up and married and scattered to different parts of the colony, so Amelia was his youngest and sole remaining joy. Miss Pufflett was a strong-minded young person, and had her father completely under her thumb. Now to old Timothy she was a bugbear, a thorn in the flesh, and it was the dearest wish of his life to see her married. Amelia had plenty of lovers, but she had her own ideas of matrimony, and had refused them all, much to her father’s disgust—in vain had he coaxed and pleaded, but all to no purpose. Suddenly he caught sight of his boon companion Bill Sykes, who had joined the group of ancients. This decided him. Throwing prudence to the winds old Timothy set off at a smart trot in the direction of the public-house. He had not gone far. however, when a heavy hand gripped his shoulder and turned him round like a teetotum, and an angry red face, framed in a pink sunbonnet, looked into his, and a wrathful voice exclaimed: “Think I didn’t see you sneakin’ off! Thought you could bamboozle me. eh? and Miss Pufflett gave her father a gentle shake. “Now. Melia, ‘ou can yer’ fork to ’yer pore old father like that? I were only goin’ for a constitooshional on the pier afore tea.” “Fiddlesticks,” retorted his daughter. “You were goin’ to the Three Swaggers to drink beer with Bill Sykes; I know your little game, just you come along with me an ’ave your tea,” and she dragged her unwilling parent by the arm. and did not let him go till he was safely seated at the table. “Yer ain’t a bit respectful to yer pore old father, and me as was a corporal in the New Zealand Feneibles,” grumbled Mr Pufflett.

Amelia took no notice, tossed her sunbonnet on a chair, and revealed an astonishing crop of chestnut curls —curls which shone like gold in the sunlight, and contrasted oddly with her hard, angular, sunburnt face; they rippled everywhere, clung about her forehead and round her ears; in fact, these same eurls were Miss Pufflett’s strong point.

and had been the undoing of many a young man in Howick. “I was thiukin’,” remarked 1J Timothy, as he noisily gulped down large mouthfuls of tea, "as it really was time you was gettin' married, the girls in the village do say as you are ou a fair way to bein’ an ole maid.”

"There's worse things than old maids,” snapped Miss Pufflett, as she thumped down a steaming dish of cornbeef and earrots in front of her father.

“Still you’ll be twenty-seven-come May; quite time you was settled,’ retorted Mr Pufflett.

“Well, some girls is old maids 'cause they can’t ’elp it, and somes old maids from choice,” answered the girl tartly.

“Your ma ’ad buried two by the time she were your hage, and Joey nearly ready to go to work,” persisted Mr Pufflett, as he balanced half a carrot on his knife, preparatory to conveying it to his mouth.

“Now, father, ’ow can you sit there and tell such lies’” said Amelia sharply. "I know very well you just want to get me off your ’ands so as you can go and soak and soak with that good-for-noth-ing blatherskytin’ rascal. Bill Sykes; but let me tell you, father, you don’t deceive me; I wasn’t born a colonial for nothing.”

“No, Melia,” said her father, reproachfully. “you know I won’t alias be ’ere to perfect yer.”

"Pretect me!” almost shrieked Miss Pufflett. “A fine pretecter you are! Do I ever eome back from Auckland on a market day without findin’ you roarin’ drunk? Besides, didn’t I promise my own blessed mother, as she lay dyin’, 1 would look after you? ‘Amelia,’ says she, gasping somethink awful for breath, ‘always look after your pa. and keep im from the public ’ouse.’ Them were er very words, and then she fell baek dead.”

Mr Pufflett dropped a tear into his tea, and seemed so much touched at the pathetic reminiscence of his departed wife that he was silent for quite two minutes. Presently he brightened up. “There s young Snoggs, as would give ’is ed fer yer, ’ he purred coaxingly, unable to leave the fascinating subject of matrimony alone, “and ’e’s got three cows and a happle orchard, and keeps a bov.”

“Now, look ’ere, father.” cried the exasperated Amelia, bringing her fist down upon the table with a thump which made the cups rattle and dance “Just you ’old that silly tongue of yours; avent I told you a ’undred times I ain t goin’ to get married, not if you talked till you were black in the faee. I ain’t agoin to *ave a man creature lordin’ it over me. not to please you or anybody else, so just you be quick and finish your tea: and let me catch you sneakin’ off again with that Bill Sykes, that's all.” she said with unpleasant emnhasis.

The browbeaten Mr Pufflett ignominiously retreated to his old post on the boat, and felt himself a much injured and downtrodden man.

He lit his pipe, and besan smoking savagely.

“Good evenin’,’’ said a voice at his elbow.

“Lor', Mr Snoggs, yer give me quite a start, yer did.” Mr Jim Snoggs was Amelia’s adorer; he was a shambling, loose-jointed youth, with straw-coloured hair and an incipient moustache, and was dressed in a suit of rough colonial serge, which savoured very highly of the cowshed. Young Snoggs was considered rather a catch in the village, being the proud owner of a small farm, which, bv dint of hard and honest labour, he had brought almost to perfection: indeed, so flourishins were his circumstances he even kent a boy to he’p milk and do odd jobs.

Many of the village lassies had cast envious eyes at the farm, and the boy, but they w're not for them, sigh as they would. The misguided Mr Snoggs had succumbed to Miss Amelia’s brown curls, and modestly laid his farm, his three cows, his boy, and, lastly, himself at her feet, only to be flung contemptuously aside with a scornful look and a toss of the head.

Most young men would have immediately gone and married someone else out of pique, but not so Mr Snoggs. who was the species of lover termed pcrsistent. and to his credit be it said, he never save the unfortunate Miss Pufflett a. w-ment’s ncace. morning, noon or night who had upon several occasions forcible elected him from the cottage in front of a broom or ■ noker. or anything that name handy: but these delicate attentions only served to increase Mr

Snoggs' affection, and he came more iioqueauy man aver. “Amelia at ’ome?” be esquired, jerking his thumb backwards towards the cottage.

“Un, yes, she's at ’ome,” replied old Timothy, mournfully. “Why? Wot’s up now? In one of ’er tantrums again?” asked the youth, a little anxiously. “I should think she was; she’s been rilin’ me up that fearful I ean’t sit in the ’ouse,” answered the purturbed parent.

“The old story, I suppose?” Old Timothy nodded. “It ain’t no use,” he almost sobbed. “I've torked, and torked, and she’s as hobstinate as a mule, she is. Blest if I know wot yer want to marry the ’uzzy for; she'll lead yer a fine dance, not but I’m grateful to yer fer wantin’ to take ’er off me ’ands. She’s just a worritin’ me inter me grave, she is. It strikes me, Mr Snoggs, yer a brave un, or else' ver a fool.”

Mr Snoggs seemed greatly pleased at the compliment. “Oh, well: I’ll just run in and see 'ow the wind blows.”

Mr Pufflett watched the youth's retreating figure, and fell to wondering if he would ever finger the five pounds young Snoggs had promised him when Amelia said yes, and he conjured up a fascinating vision of the royal time he would have if the young fellow's suit ever proved successful. Long, long days’ worshipping at the shrine of Bacchus, with a few chosen cronies, and nobody, to say him nay, “and wot a time I would ave when they was on their ’oneymoon,” chuckled the old sinner as he fairly hnnself in ecstaev at the thought.

Meanwhile Mr Snoggs strolled up between the sunflowers and hollyhocks, to the creeper-covered cottage, and he felt his courage eseaping out at his boots. Through the open window he eould see the object of his affections peeling apples, and the soft breeze ruffling her eurls. She had seen him, of course, but pretended ignorance. Mr Snoggs knocked timidlv with his supplejack. No answer. He knocked again. “Come in,” snapped Miss Pufflett. "Good evenin’, Melia,” said the youth nervously. “Miss Pufflett from you Mr Snoggs, please,” said the girl tartly. Mr Snoggs blushed furiously, and ehewed the end of his supplejack. Presently he ventured to sit down on the extreme edge of a chair. “Been very ’ot,” he remarked, mopping his brow with a red-spotted handkerchief.

Miss Pufflett did not contradict him. “Good weather for the crops.” Miss Pufflett gazed calmlv across the bay.

Mr Snoggs felt he was not making much headway. “'Odge’s calf died to-day,” he stammered desperately. “I ’eard of a man who fell off a ’earse in Auckland the other day,” answered Amelia at last, giving him a significant look from her steely blue eyes. ~ The youth’s bewildered brain eould see no point in the obtruse remark, but, fortunately for his tottering reason, a little diversion occurred —an apple rolled off the table to the farthest corner of the room. He scrambled after it, and laid it on the table again. ’lt just matches your own cheeks,” he said boldly. “Go on; none of you r sauce; keep your silly compliments for those as'like them. ’ cried the incensed Amelia. But the ice was broken, and Mr Snoggs’ tongue was loosened. “You know, Arne—l mean Miss Pufflett, I love you ’onest,” and he looked into the girl’s steely eyes, but changed his glance to the bobbing curls—tha eyes showed no sympathy, but the curls were lovely. “I know it’s most awful cheek,” he continued, and I’m only a common sort of chap, not worthy to breathe even the same air as vou.” Miss Pufflett smiled grimly. “But, Miss Pufflett, I do love vou. and I could give you the snuggest little ’ome if vou would only try me,” and he ventured to take her hand.'

Miss Pufflett indignantly snatched the injured member awav. “For goodness’ sake stop that ’ighi flutin’ and don’t be a fool, Jim Snoees,” she said wrathfully. “’avent I told you over and over I ain’t goin’ to get married; there’s father been badgerin’ mv life out about it again this very evenin’, and now you come ’ere with’

your silly talk. What does it matter to anyone if I choose to be an old ■laid? Besides, supposin’ I did want to married? ’ Mr Snoggs moved a trifle nearer. The <irl waved him off. “I only said supposin’. Do you think I would leave that precious father of mine, now, I ask you, Jim Snoggs? Do I ever come home from market without findin’ ’im drunk? and the last time didn't I find ’im swarmin’ up the verandah posts, thinkin’ ’e was goin’ upstairs to ’is bed and ’oilerin’ like mad? No thanks, Mr Jim, I’ve quite enough to do to look after father, without takin’ on a ’usband as well. So you can just take yourself off, for I've got my jelly to make, and can’t be bothered with the likes of you anoyin’ round,” and she gave a meaning look at the corner where the broom stood.

The crestfallen youth was obliged to retire; he walked slowly along the beach when he observed an unsteady figure lurching towards him. It was Amelia’s parent in a decidedly elevated condition. “ ’Elio, me blesshed bhoy, ’spose its all fished hup, ’eh goin’ to bhy the ring to-morrow,” and Mr Pufflett gave a maudlin wink. “ ’Spose you don’t ’appen to ’ave that fiver about you, you promished, eh?” and Mr Pufflett winked again.

“You idiotic old fool.” exclaimed the exasperated Mr Snoggs, giving old Timothy a prod in the chest, which sent that festive gentleman sprawling backwards into the sand. “ It’s all because of you Amelia won’t marry me, you confounded old pot-house brawler, you,” and having delivered himself of this delicate sentiment the injured vouth strode off. Mr Pufflett with much difficulty raised himself to a sitting posture, and looked after the retreating figure of Mr Snoggs in blank amazement. “Well I’m danged! My fault, eh; bhase ingratatoode I calls it. and after hall hive done for ’im,” and Mr Pufflett began to weep. Presently he picked himself up and lurched towards the cottage singing “Rule Britannia” at the top of his voice. A few evenings later young Jim Snoggs, with a look of dogged determination upon his face, strode along the beaeh. passed old Timothy on his boat without a word, straight in at the little gate, and up between the flowers till he reached the door, at which he knocked boldly. Miss Pufflett opened it. “You again!” she said ungraciously. “Didn’t I tell you you wasn't to come ’angin’ round again?” “I’ll not detain you long,” said Mr Snoggs with much dignity. “Lor!” exclaimed the astonished Miss Pufflett, “ ’ow grand we are, to be sure,” and she took up some sewing and seated herself at the window and motioned him to a chair opposite. It was dear Mr Snoggs had something important to say, but was at a loss how to begin. Amelia glanced curiously at him.

"You look as if you’d lost five shillings and found sixpence,” she said with a giggle. “I’m going away,” blurted out the

youth. “Lawks.!” exclaimed Miss Pufflett, as she fixed her steely eyes on him in astonishment; “and where may you be goin’?” she asked.

“South Africa. I've enlisted for the Ninth Contingent,” said Mr Snoggs impressively. Amelia jumped out of her chair with an exclamation on her lips, and stood holt upright, then she remembered her dignity and sat down again. “And what are you goin’ to do with the farm?”

’l’ve put it in the agent’s ’ands to be sold.”

“H—m,” answered Miss Pufflett, and she went on sewing and appeared to be turning something over in her mind. “Melia,” said Mr Snoggs suddenly; “you know why I am goin’ away.” “Lor, Mr Snoggs, and ’ow should I know,” giggled the girl as she tossed her curls.

“Oh, Melia, my darlin,’ you know as ’ow its ’you yerself that’s sendin’ me away,” he pleaded; “you know as *ow I worship the very ground you walk on, and when you ’ear of me lyin’ dead and cold on the velt and with the vultures ’overin’ above me. and my bones whitenin’ in the African sun. then you’ll know as it was yourself as drove me there; its a terrible thing, Melia, to ’are a man’s soul to answer for.”

“Oh. go on. Jim Snoggs, and don’t talk rubbish; ’undreds of men ’avegons

to the war and come ’ome without a scratch on ’em, and a little chap tike you could easy dodge the bullets,” said his charmer cruelly. “You’ve no ’art,” said the youth brokenly. Amelia flung him one of her scornful glances, but something in the lad’s face arrested the bitter answer she was about to make, and a pang of compunction shot through her hard young heart, for perhaps the first time in her life, for there was that in the boy’s face, nondescript and homely though it was, which forbade her sending him away with hard words.

“Look ’ere, Jim,” she said kindly; “I ’onour and respect your offer, and I’m real sorry to ’ave to send you away; but why ever, lad, don’t you go and ask Bessie Logan or MiHy Trent? as would give their ears to ’ave you; why, they’re ready now to tear each other’s eyes out about you because you gave Bessie Logan a lift in your cart the other day. Besides, I’m a woman and far too old for you, your but a lad yet. Jim.” “Thank you for speakin’ so kind. Melia,” he said, in a broken voice, surprised at her unwonted kindness of tone. “If I can’t ’ave you I’ll ’ave no one. I’m but a matter of four years younger than you. Oh. If you’d only give me a chance I’d work my fingers to the bone for you.” “I’m afraid, Jim, it ain’t no use; if you’d only be sensible and take some other girl, you would soon be happy with ’er and forget all about me.” “Forget you! Oh, Melia!” said the youth reproachfully; “but I see it ain’t no use, so I s’pose I’ve got to take my walkin’ orders, but, Melia, there’s one favour I’ll ask you—the last thing I’ll ever ask,” he said, mournfully, with bowed head, blushing furiously, “will you give me a curl for a keepsake?”

Without a word Miss Pufflett went to the table, picked up a pair of scissors, and severed a curl, and handed him the shining lock. The lad grasped it eagerly, raised it to his lips; then, taking her hands in his own, he kissed them fervently, and with a dry, choking sob was gone. “Well, if that don’t beat all!” explained the astonished Miss Pufflett, gazing after him.

Then she sat down, and began to take herself severelv to task.

“Amelia May Pufflett, you’re a fool, a silly, sentimental, dodderin’ injut, givin’ young men curls, and lettin’ them kiss your ’ands and sueh like, at your age, too. You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” and she gave a scornful laugh at her own weakness.

“It’s a pity ’e’s sellin’ the farm, though,” she mused. “A six-roomed ’ouse, a apple orchard, three cows, and a boy,” she murmured, softly. “Blest if I can let that go by me,” she explained. Then, jumping up suddenly. “Yes, I’ll marry ’im after all,” and then went to the door and listened.

“Goin* away!” she heard her father roaring in great excitement. “Selling the farm! ”

“Jim,” she called softly. The lad heard, and needed no second bidding.

“I’ve changed my mind, Jim,” said Miss Pufflett, coyly. “Girls do sometimes, you know. I’ll marry you on one condition.”

“Oh, Melia, my darlin’, I’ll marry you on any condition, and glad to get you,” cried the delighted Mr. Snoggs. “Well. I’ve just been thinkin’ things over, and I wouldn’t like to think ‘your bones were bleachin’ under the African sun,’ and think it was me as sent you there, so if father comes to live with us, so I can just keep my eye on ’im—l will marry you.”

“Is that all, Melia?” exclaimed the youth, fairly bewildered at his good fortune. “Your father can come, and welcome,” and he gazed at his love in beatific wonder.

“You remind me of the man I was teßin* you of, as fell off a ’earse, Jim,” she said, mischievously. Mr. Smoggs’ wits became suddenly sharpened, and he took the hint, and there was a short interlude. Presently Miss Pulfflett rose, and smoothed her curls, which, somehow or other, had become disarranged. “We will go and tell father now,” she said, “ ’e’s always liked you, Jim, and ’ow pleased ’e’ll be when ’e knows ’e’s goin’ to live with us,” and she laughed wickedly.

Old Timothy was electrified by seeing

his daughter come through the little gate arm in arm with young Snoggs. Then he grasped the situation, and beamed upon them ; n ecstasy. ü ßless you, my children,” he exclaimed, “now your pore old father can got to ’is grave ’appy.” Already he felt the five golden sovereigns jingling in his pocket. “Yea, father, it’s all fixed up; me and Jim’s goin* to be married, and. what do you think! vVe don’t like you bein’ left alone, and pinin’ for me, so we’ve decided to take you to live with us at the farm.” Old Timothy’s jaw dropped half a yard, his head fell upon his chest, and he sank into a limp heap upon the sand, and Jim and ’Melia strolled along arm in arm towards the moonlit pier. MAI HENDERSON, A.C.