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ikV ylT Is all over; finished; done
S| 1 with; exhausted 1 So am I!
Sgsg So is Miranda! But little
Noel Hartley is as fresh as a
rose and wonders why the Rev. Arthur
Greatorex thinks so much of her. The
Rev. Arthur also wonders — mnny
things.
In crises like; these Miranda and I
have sometimes hinted desperately to
one another of an eternal Separation,
with a capital S. We have drawn
pathetfc pictures of how we would di*
ride everything between us, and she
should go and live with her mother,
while I strode into life’s highway,
manfully putting the past behind me
in order to become great, and, instead
of going to theaters, spend my even*
lngs sitting by the Afro, waiting her
footstep on the stair. »Miranda would
always got quite worked up by this pa
thetic picture until she remembered
that it was useless taking half the
things, because her mother had no in
tention of turning the house into a
storage Company for the furniture of
others. So the trouble generally blew
over. But this time it went as far as
my making out n list of the things in
my “den” before we wore reconciled.
Miranda Baw then that she was on the
brink of an- awful precipice, and it
made her shiver. So it did me, be
cause there's a beautiful bronze Brit
ish lion (from Japan) in my "den”
which she has set her heart upon hav
ing, and I know we should have squab
bled over that. When she says, "Dicky,
you’re such a dear!” pats my brow and
with the other hand takes the very
thing I don’t want her to have, the
pathos of the situation degenerates in
to farce, and—and—oh, you know what
young wives are like! Tho next time
I marry I shall choose a solid, estima
ble lady of mature age, with a false
front and without what little Noel
calls "parlor tricks.”
As soon as Miranda told the Rev.
Arthur Greatorex about her projected
plngpong tournament he smiled In a
pleased way and said that he himself
would bo the first to take-a two shil
ling ticket. He also threw out dark
hints that Miss Jarvis would like toibe
asked. They’re not really engaged, be
cause the Rev. Arthur hasn’t enough
money to marry, but he calls Miss Jar
vis "dear sister” and looks at her, if he
thinks he is unobserved, in the same
way that Sir Lancelot did at Guinevere
when King. Arthur was out. Of course
Mlrandu knew all about this “ge-hllty
passion,” as she calls it, and that was
why she told Miss JnrviB that the Rev,
Arthur was going to play and then in
formed him that Miss Jarvis would
also be there. So she had them "in the
net,” ns it were, and the members of
the blanket club almost cried when
told they wore too old to play. To
please them, Miranda made a special
rule that if they liked to take tickets
they could get some ohe olse to play
for them, and, as the old men were
fond of excitement, they pawned their
remaining blankets and bought twelve
tickets for the tournament. "It do my
old ’cart good to get a little permlskus
sport like this’ere,” said Gaffer Hind-
ley to Miranda, "and I’ve got four
quarts on with Joe Burridge as little
missie”—pointing to Noel—“’ill play
for me and knock his ugly ’ead off. I
do ’ear as ’ow Mistress Jarvis’ sewing
club be a-goin’ to try to knock us out,
and there’s twelve on us wants littlo
missie to do her best for us. It do
warm our old ’earts, it do, to have a
bit of real sport like this newfangled
game. Most as good as a day’s rattin’
it be, surelie.” *
When Miranda asked her little niece
Noel to stay with us, she said that
Noel’s blue eyes, golden hair, mournful
face, with its "I do want to be loved
before heaven claims me for its own”
kind of expression, made her uneasy.
It did me also. I knew the ^hlld, and
I was also aware that heaven could
get along very well without her—for a
time, at all > events. She was a little
demon at lawn tennis and could pick
up any new game in ten minutes. Be
sides, as she told me, she had been
working hard at pingpong in order to
"lick Brother Tom.” I had a little
practice with her before the tourna
ment came off, and she— But I antici
pate.
Miss Jarvis, although she loved Mi
randa dearly, did not like the success
of the blanket club* After all, we Were
only newcomers, and we ought, like
Agag, to have "walked delicately” for
a few years before bursting into such
meteoric fame. It occurred to Miss
Jarvis when she saw the special rule
that it would be a sporting kind of
thing for her sewing club members to
enter en masse. Though most of them
Were the wives of the blanket club
men, she never seemed to realize that
a house divided against Itself cannot
stand. So she bought a dozen tickets
for the sewing dUb and, when Miranda
remonstrated with her on this prolific
expenditure, as. good as hinted that It
was no business of Miranda’s. New
comers in the place could not be ex
pected to understand "the dear people”
as well as she did. Of course when she
got "nasty” like thati Miranda nightly
prayed that the blanket club players
would smite the feminine Amalekltes
of the sewing club hip and thigh.
Noel was so popular in the village
that the landlord of the Spotted Dog,
as she Informed me after the tourna
ment was over, "put his last shirt on
her,” a phrase which, I understand, in
sporting parlance means that he risked
all his spare cash on the event. I
wasted a good deal of time teaching
Noel how to "serve” into the double
edges of the big mahogany table which
we borrowed from the vicar. It was
just the right size (nine feet by five),
but the double fdges gave a sort of
piquancy to the play which I thought
would be lacking in a mere ordinary
table from a professional place. Miran
da was to look after the tea, and I was
to lead off against the vicar, who, in
stead of practicing, went to the British
museum to hunt up ancient authorities.
He Bald that before undertaking so se
rious a task he wanted to see whether
the Athenians had ever played the
game under another name. But, in
spite of his putting it in that way, ho
grew just as keen about plngpong ns
anybody else and actually made his
wife practice with him one evening.
They quarreled for the first time in
their lives because she would serve into
his waistcoat, and he said It was tak
ing a mean advantage.
When the eventful evening cfcne, we
had the old sewing clubwomen on one
side of the room and the blanket fund
old men on the other—"Montagues and
Capulets,” the Rev. Arthur culled
them. Burridges apd Hindleys would
have been nearer the mark. Then the
vicar opened the proceedings in his
usual absentmlnded way, as if he were
at a penny reading, and from mere
force of habit announced that "Mr.
Recitation would give a Smith.” Be
fore he could be prevented young
Smith began on "It was at Flores, in
the Hazores,” and Noel was the only
person present who had the pluck to
stop him. He has hated her ever since.
We started with myself and the vic
ar, and he didn’t play badly for a be
ginner, although between “serves" he
frequently stopped' to explain that he
had seen a picture of "Prehistoric Ping-
pong” In Punch and that If any one
would give him Mr. Reed’s address he
would communicate with him on the
subject, as even prehistoric animals
had their feelings and could doubtless
be Influenced for good if treated with
kindness. When he lost, he became a
little testy; so we played it all over
again, and I let him, as Noel said,
"romp home an easy winner.” That
dear child Is learning the most ex
traordinary expressions from her bos
om friend the landlord of the Spotted
Dog.
After Miranda had won her game
against the churchwarden no one else
in the village professed to understand
pingpong or to have the hardihood to
play it In public, so about 0 o’clock we
came to the Oapulets and Montagues,
the Burridges and the HindleyB, the
blanket fund and the sewing club.
Noel told me afterward, with a seraph
ic smile, that she and the landlord of
the Spotted Dog had arranged with
the villagers that they were not to in
terfere. The landlord had a dim sort
of idea what Miss Jarvis was going to
do, and he worshiped Noel to such a.i
extent that the child believed that if
he could have "got at” the Rev. Ar
thur’s modest glass of table beer he
(the landlord) would have "hocused 1
the poor curate or "pointed his bit,”
whatever that may mean.,
When old Mrs. Burrldge’s name was
called, she smiled at Miss Jarvis and
said, "Do ’e tell the gentry,, dearie, as
his reverence is goin’ to play for me,
and God be good to us all.” She went
to sleep again, and old Hindley got up
and said, "Little missie be a-goin’ to
play for I, and I’ve got four quarts on
her!’*
Then this seraphic child, with eyes
of heavenly blue (she’s only twelve),
her golden hair flowing down her, back
(blue ribbon), white tennis things, blue
sash round her dainty waist, white
doeskin shoes and another blue rib
bon at her pretty throat, floated up to
the table, produced a lucky penny with
a hole in it from her pocket and held
it out to thle Rev. Arthur, with a smile
so sweet, so pure, so holy, that old
Mrs. Gammel burst into tears and said
"the pretty Greetur* is a mort too good
for this world, and it do seem savage-
like for a girt big man to worrit her
so.”
“W-what’s that for?” asked the Rev.
Arthur, taken aback.
"Toss for service, please,” said Noel.
"You? call.”
The Rev. Arthur called, "Head.”
"Tail, I think,” sold Noel politely.
"Yes, tail it is. I serve.”
"Cer-certainly. By all means, Miss
Noel,” said the Rev. Arthur.
"You go to the other end,” said Noel,
"and, mind you, keep within the lines
of the table.”
"I—I don’t see any lines,” protested
the Rev. Arthur.
Npql ^explained.
"You—you won’t think me unkind if
I win ?” asked the Rev. Arthur, who is
the tenderest hearted man in the
world.
"Certainly not,” replied Noel.
" *Twouldn’t be sportsmanlike.”
"I think we are ready to begin,”
said the Rev. Arthur after a bewil
dered pause.
"I have been ready for the last five
minutes,” Noel declared.
I am anticipating your service,”
said the Rev. Arthur.
Something happened. This small
child “served.” A streak of white flew
over the net, touched the table in the
left hand corner and disappeared
through the doorway.
“One—love,” called the umpire.
She served again. This time the ball
caught on the edge of the table and
went into the stove.
"Two—love,” called the umpire.
Noel took another ball. It touched
the table,, smote the Rev. Arthur light
ly on the nose and divagated into Mrs.
Burridge’s lap.
"Three—love,” called the umpire.
Yet again. This time the ball lodged
in the Rev. Arthur’s lower chest
For, ao swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in Its flight.
"Four—love,” called the umpire.
And once more. The Rev. Arthur,
with flashing eyes (he was beginning
to get excited) returned the ball into
the net
"Five—love,” called the umpire.
Noel bowed. "Your service, Mr.
Greatorex,” and turned back her cuffs.
"If the ladles will pardon me, 1 will
divest myself of my coat,” said the
Rev. Arthur.
"Strip, by all means, if you like,"
said Noel. And he stripped.
But it was no good. The game went
on until it became twenty—two. He
made two.
"John Llvesey and Mrs. Clummel,”
called the umpire.
"Our turn again, I think,” said Noel
to the Rev Arthur. "I’m playing for
John. Your service, Mrs. Clummel.
John won.
"Martha Raggetts and—eh—Chumpy
Poe,” called the umpire.
“I play for Joe,” said Noel. "I sup
pose you are Martha Raggetts?”
"I am,” said the Rev. Arthur, and he
looked like another Martha who was
"cumbered with many cares.”
They played that game until the Rev.
Arthur began to Improve. Besides, the
blood of his ancestors boiled in his
veins. But it boiled to no purpose.
Noel won easily.
"Elihu Sands and Jane Lovejoy,”
called the umpire.
‘My service, Jane,” said Noel to the
Rev. Arthur.
The Rev. Arthur did not like it, but
he played and lost.
"Thyrza Thlstlethwayte and Tom
Gerrldge,” called the umpire;
Thyrza did a little better, for weight
began to tell.
"Sarah Thorne and Martin Clarke,”
called the umpire.
"Better make the game ten points,
Sarah, instead of twenty,” suggested
Noel encouragingly, for she was begin
ning to tire.
"Certainly, if the umpire a!llows us,”
said the Rev. Arthur.
Sarah joined Thyrza with a slightly
damaged nose.
"Anna Jones and Old Coulston,” call
ed the umpire.
"Go it, missie,” said Old Coulston.
"I see myself a-drinkin’ that beer, l
do.”
Missie "went it,” but, in spite of all
she could do, the Rev. Arthur made the
game seven—ten.
"Time to sponge off,, I think,” sug
gested Noel to Anna Jones.
“Eh—I beg your pardon?” said Anna
Jones.
"Refreshments,” explained Noel kind
ly. "I’m going to have a bun and gin
ger beer.”
The Rev. Arthur inwardly hoped
they would disagree wita her. He, too,
adored Noel, but he carried the money
of, the sewing club and was prepared,
if necessary, to die on the field of hon
or. He tossed down a lemon squash
prepared by the fair fingers of Miss
Jarvis. "I wear your glove upon my
helm,”' he whispered.
"Mind that child doesn’t knock it
off,” said Miss Jarvis,sternly. "If you
lose—a mere chit of a thing like that!
—I’ll never forgive you.”
The landlord of the Spotted Dog
gave Noel a cake of butterscotch to
"top off” with, and, a pretty color in
her cheeks, she danced back to the ta
ble. "Suppose,” she said politely, "we
lump all the other games and Btand or
fall by this one. I think you will then
be”—she looked at the list—"Elizabeth
Halsey, Keturah Banks, Alice Manns,
Jemima Ward and Mad Kitty.”
"I--I think so,” said the Rey. Arthur.
"Oh, what: a duck he is!” said Mad
Kitty, beaming rapturously upon the
poor curate* "Isn’t he a duck!”
Miss Jarvis hastily pulled the crazy
girl back into her seat and told her to
be good.
"I will,” said Mad Kitty; "but isn’t
he a duck!”
Noel poised her racket reflectively.
“I’m Keeper Jones, Silas Poorbody,
Scranny Eyed Bill, Sawyer Hurd and
Garge the Shepherd, and I must be
very careful, because they have twen
ty quarts of beer on me between them.”
"Twenty what?” gasped the Rev. Ar
thur.
“Quarts,’’ said Noel gently, "and they
have asked me to supper at the Spot
ted Dog if I win."
Even Miranda gasped at this revela
tion. Fortunately she was cutting cake
and did not realize its full significance.
The Rev. Arthur bowed gallantly. “I
wish the ladies had so good a champion
also,” he said kindly. He glanced at
Miss Jarvis, and his fine features cloud
ed over, for she frowned. “A slip of a
child,” she whispered contemptuously
to her neighbor.
Her disdain stung the Rev. Arthur,
who was generally pretty good at field
sports, and he began to serve as hard
as he could, after previously stipulat
ing that this filial game should be twen
ty points. Amid tremendous excite
ment they crept up to eighteen all.
There was agony in the Rev. Arthur’s
eye, for Miss Jarvis, coldly contemptu
ous, applauded Noel vigorously. Noel,
seeing his distress, purposely served
into the net, then blushed scarlet She
"carried the beer of the blanket club,”
yet had betrayed her trust because she
loved the Rev. Arthur. Her pretty lips
trembled.
The Rev. Arthur saw and under
stood. With fine chivalry he also serv
ed into the net mentally vowing to re
fund their losses to the members of the
sewing club. He would not be outdone
in magnanimity by a slip of a child.
‘‘Nineteen all,” cried the umpire.
i "We’ll make the next final stroke.
Your service, Miss Noel.”
Noel was so unnerved that she sent
over an easy ball. The Rev. Arthur,
with a hypocritical pretenBe of activ
ity, drove it into the net, bowed and
announced himself conquered.
Noel threw down her racket, flung
her arms round his neck as he stooped
to her and kissed him. Then they went
off hand in hand to Miss Jarvis, who
began dimly to understand that there
are finer; things in the world than win
ning a pingpong tournament.
, "Noel has beaten me,” said the cu
rate gayly, "and I’m proud of being
beaten so quickly.”
Noel made them both a pretty cour
tesy. "I am twice beaten,” she said.
"Will you and Miss Jarvis come and
have your evening oats with us at the
Spotted Dog?”
We all went.
"Took his grueling like a man and a
gentleman,” said the landlord of the
Spotted Dog. "I’m goin’ to church next
Sunday!”—Queen.
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