The record-union., 1899-08-06

| of my fields, but I gave young chap
who were messing about a survin to
put un somewhere else, and he did, I
weren't a-going to have no messages
a-going through my field and a-scaring
the beasts"
Finally after much persuasion on my
part, and much hanging back upon
Toms, we drove off together to the
nearest telegraph office, and a telegram
| almost as lengthy and as Ineligible
as Mr. Samuel Wellers love letter was
dispatched to the innkeeper.
will you pay for an answer, sir?"
inquired the clerk.
I'll pay when I gets it" was the re-
ply; and then followed an argument,
the clerk, of course, insisting upon pre-
payment and Tom avowing that he
would only pay upon delivery. Finally
l threw shilling on the counter, and
succeeded with some difficulty in get
ting Tom out of the Office.
We'll, here's your bob, Master
George" he said, rendering the coin;
''but I counts as we've done wrong
a-paying of it,"
To most men under similar circum-
| stances the laconic answer "All right, .
which arrived within the hour, would
have seemed satisfactory. But Tom
was far from being contented, argu-
ing that he had not got his moneys
worth.
Where's the rest, young MANI" he
inquired of the telegraph clerk.
THAT is all the message, SIR
why, | seen Master George give you
n oh liv,rr xrrit1
him say as he was paying for twenty
words-where's the other eighteen?'
There is no longer message come,
sir. The party might have sent a
longer message had he wished to-
We'll then, you give me my money
back. I know'd as we'd done wrong
a-paying of it, Master George
It was common saying in our vii
lage that a Campion did not know
what fear was. and certainly Tom
maintained the traditional character of
the family. There came a day when
the street in which John Ball lived was
in a state of panic. 1t might even be
said that the local traffic was thor
oughly disorganized, neither foot pas
senger nor vehicle venturing to pass
down the street. Women were Shrek
ing, and men were standing in knots
at each end of the street eagerly dis
cussing what was to be done next.
Send for the reverend" said one.
Or the Constable" suggested an
other
Il say you'd better go and fetch old
Tom Campion, and he don't want no
fetching, neither, for here a comes
This from John Ball, who generally
managed to hit the right nail on the
head
What's gone wrong?" inquired Tom,
as he joined the group whats all
they women folks a-skiring att"
The baker briefly explained the situa-
ton:
why, there's Bill Haines got on the
drink again, and he've locked himself
up in his house with a double barrelled
gun, and swears as he'll shoot anything
as goes along the street. He've ashot
a cat and a-missed a dog, and putten
seven pellets in my Jacks legs already,
blast him.
Bill Haines, I should remark, was a
great outstanding fellow, a bricklayer
by profession, who, when he kept
sober, could earn as good wages as any
man in the parish, but was an awkward
customer to tackle when he was in his
cups, which happened about once a
month.
Having days shooting, is hep"
said Tom unconArnedly. well, and he
amt done much harm yet, l reckon
there's plenty more cats in the village,
and l seed your Jack up my apple tree
only last night. But BilPll' have to give
me that gum and, paying no regard
to the remonstranceS of the men or the
shrlll protestations of the women, Tom
strobe down the village in the direc-
ton of Haines' house, followed by no
less person than John Ball, who kept
up as best he could. 1t was John who
described the subsequent proceedings
to me:
Walked straight up to the window,
did old gemman, and there were Bill
pointing the gun straight at him all the
while, and a-vowing as he'd shoot.
Done enough shooting for one day,
amt you, Bill?' says old gemman. as
quiet as I'm talking now. Just you
hand that gun out through window, or
I'll kick the door in and come and take
it, he says; and Bill he hands it out
quiet as a lamb. Now you go to bed
and sleep it off, my man, says old
gemman, and with that he walks back
to where folk was standing. Here's
half suvrin, he says, for cat, and l
reckon as it We're a good job as it
were shot; and half a suvrin for Jack
as they pellets in his leg won't agree
with tree climbing he says;"and here's
suvrin for you, John Ball, as you're
the only chap of the lot as has got any
grit; and now, all you other chaps had
best hold your tongues, and tell the
women folk to give over skirling'''
Apparently Tom Campions advice
was taken. At any rate. the matter
never came into the Police Court, and
Bill Haines. at the rector's instance,
took the pledge and became a reformed
character.
Tom Campion was gathered to his
fathers ten years. ago, dying of chill
contracted in the hunting field. I do
not know that have made him out to
be a hero, but his memory will long
be cherished in our village as of man
who was never known to break his
word or do an unkindness to his neigh
Dor. AS I followed him to the grave
and the funeral procession passed by
John Balls cottage, the old hunch-
backed cobbler was standing in his
doorway crying like a child A few
weeks later, when I was standing by
his graveside with the two reverends
as Tom had always called them. the
rector and his curate, 1 gathered for