CHAPTER I.

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume VIII, Issue 1, 1 April 1903, Page 31

CHAPTER I.

§HE lived in the last house at the end of the long, winding \ street. The house itself ; possessed the only verandah '^" in the little bush township. It turned its back on the other houses in the street by facing Che river. Personally Miss Matilda Cray ley did not approve of the river. It was pretty to look at in summer, when the willows on tire opposite bank dipped long, lithe, green fingers into the water, and at night it was rather soothing than otherwise to hear it flowing deeply and softly between its banks. Perhaps it was only the bank to which Miss Crayley objected ; particularly that portion of it which went in a curving line round one side of her house and garden. It was low at this part, forming a convenient way for the children of the community to reach the, to them, over fascinating river. Miss Grayley, though generally of a mild habit of mind, used to sometimes find herself wondering why none of these children were ever drowned. Somewhere in the background of consciousness was a dark thought she did not give utterance — the thought that drowning was too good for them. For Miss Crayley kept a garden. She was, in fact, a garden enthusiast. She rose early, and snipped roses, and swept paths while her neighbours slept. She sent abroad for bulbs, and it was rumoured she once gave five shillings for one. The people of the community therefore, with the simple directness which characterized all their opinions, said she was " daft/ and let the matter rest at that.

They left off advising her to keep fowls or grow potatoes after they discovered that she could afford not to do either of these things. As a matter of fact Miss Crayley had bought the place simply to indulge her hobby. She had accompanied her nephew once on a fishing expedition in the neighbourhood shortly after her arrival in the colonies, and her enthusiasm was aroused at the luxuriant growth of some pungas and maiden-hair fern in the bush around the settlement. Finally she decided to purchase the house she occupied, and set to work to make the wilderness blossom as a rose. She grew clematis over every unsightly stump, and all sorts of sweet scents were wafted over her garden walls. Most of the work she did herself to the half-grudging admiration of the male population. The ne'er-do-weel of the place once ventured to bestow a little patronizing commendation on her.

" Ye do work well, that ye do ! just like a man."

-' Thank you," said Miss Crayley, without stopping her digging ; " I hope I do a little better than that !"

The idle one walked away discomfited.

Miss Cray ley had a poor opinion of mankind in general, though in appearance she was not unlike one of the creatures she despised. It was a wonder that the sight of the tall, gaunt figure and severe face was not enough to frighten the children, between whom and herself perpetual war was waged. The small plunderers simply could not keep their hands from picking and stealing the roses that, heavy with

scented bloom, drooped low over the fence. But Miss Cray ley failed in one important particular, to inspire awe among her small enemies. She had a singularly sweet voice that refused to be other than ■dulcet even when raised in su<;h irate exclamations as "I see you, Tommy Simpson !" " Stop that, Milly Smith \" or " I've caught you, Timothy Haggart !'' This last was generally uttered in the delirium of the moment, and need not be taken as actual fact. The aaid Timothy Haggart was the " limb " of the settlement, and as nimble as he was wicked. In summer he lived chiefly in the water, and it was one of the trials of Miss Crayley' s lii'e to behold him, dressed in nothing but a little brief authority, showing a crowd of small boys the proper way to take a '' header/ Timothy's parents were poor, but dishonest people. They sold milk in summer, and milk and water in winter. In the intervals of driving the cows to and from pasture, Timothy's time was all his own. A truant inspector had not yet penetrated to the district, and Timothy swam, and fished, and purloined the kindly fruits of his neighbour's earth with the glorious freedom of an unfettered small boy. Sometimes to vary the monotony of his amusements he went to school — but not often. When, however, he did condescend to go he showed himself quiet and intelligent, so that Miss Wildon, the new teacher, took quite an interest in him as an intelligent little boy, obliged by his occupation to miss the schooling by which he evidently would have profited. She was partly misled by his appearance, which was decidedly picturesque. He was attired in ragged blue serge trousers, a scarlet shirt, and his bare legs were as brown as his mop of curls. Whether Timothy's dark eyes detected her admiration, and his masculine vanity was gratified thereby, it is impossible to say ; but he appeared one rmorning with a rose of such ex-

quisite colour and scent that Miss Wildon seized upon it almost before lie, with a sort of shy daring, had time to offer it. " How lovely \" she said. " Thank you, Timothy/ She placed it in the belt of her white blouse. Timothy's bare legs took him contentedly to his seat. '"' You stole it," said his neighbour, in a resentful whisper. " Ga'rn !" said Timothy. " Say that agin and I'll duck you in the river after school." But he did not deny the accusation. Miss Wildon, blissfully unconscious of the suspicious character of her gift, proceeded after school to see Miss Crayley with the flower still in her belt. Now Miss Crayley and the little school-teacher were great friends, but the old lady's greeting was a little lacking in its usual cordiality. Her glance fell as drawn by a magnet, upon the Perle de Jardin in Miss Wildon's dress. She felt aggrieved that the first and only blossom of her latest purchase should have been allowed so short a stay on the parent stem. She had bowed down and worshipped it before breakfast, and lo ! when she returned for another peep at it, it was gone ! She touched it gently with her hand. "My dear," she said, " how pretty it looks ! Is it not a splendid bloom for the first year ?" Miss Wildon looked puzzled ; but, detaching the rose, she held it out. " You have it," she said generously. " Timothy Haggart gave it to me, and I thought at once you would like to see it." A light broke in upon Miss Crayley's mind. "Little devil !" she exclaimed. Miss Wildon recoiled a step. Miss Crayley, however, took her by the hand and led her inside. Over a cup of tea she explained her exclamation, and begged to be forgiven for the base suspicions she had entertained.

" What am I to do ?" she asked, tragically. "If 1 were not so unpopular with the parents of this Heaven-forsaken spot, I would complain to them, but really when one has slapped half the infant community, and is only waiting an opportunity to slap the other half, it complicates matters." " The clergyman " began Mi^s Wildon, but Miss Crayley made un impatient little movement with her hands.

"My dear ! he is personally affronted that 1 have time to cultivate flowers. He is willing to employ me in many more useful matters, arid would consider my appeal beneath notice. Besides which, he only comes here once a month, and is already too distressed at the backslidings of the adult population for me to worry him about the infant offenders/

" Why not get a dog ?" suggested Miss Wildon, handing her cup for some more tea. " A nice big dog with an expression and a bark.'" " Not if I know it \" said Miss Crayley, with energy ; " I don't pretend to be able to train dogs, or to make them obey me when they have been trained. I don't know how it is/ she went on in a sweet, vexed voice, " but the dogs in the Forty-mile Bush are different to the dogs one used to know at Home. They are independent here — and critical. I got one shortly after I bought this place, and he was the most self-opinionated beast you can imagine. He approved of nothing I did, and my method of gardening struck him as being inferior. He put up with it for some time, and then decided to give me a lesson himself. I woke one morning to find the patch, I had dug over night, a large hole with the scraped-out earth distributed impartially over my seedling bed. I whipped him/ continued Miss Crayley, with an air of firmness, " I whipped him with a cabbagetree leaf, but it did not do any good." Miss Wild on looked surprised. " From that time onward

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he seemed to think that what 1 really wanted in my garden was an. artesian well. So I gave a tramp a shilling to take him out of the district. I heard afterwards that he sold him to some shearers for ten shillings — so he could not have been! altogether the mongrel i thought him. He wasn't a sheep dog, either, so I don't know what use he could have been to shearers." Miss Wildon did not know either. " As far as I can see/ she said, rising to say good-bye, " you are reduced either to philosophy or the local policeman." " Oh ! I will not let it be as bad as that," said Miss Crayley, accompanying her to the gate, " I must think of a way out of the situation."