Evening star., 1926-12-26

plum If I'd gone on his plan. that S
| certain"
| And he gave that profound chuckle
which comes from the very stomach
| of success. I'VE were having a rocky
| time at the Harmony; had to cut down
everything we could-music, well, that
came about first. Little old Moronelli
as we used to call him-old Italian
days before English names came in
you know-he was far the best of the
flutes; so ! went to him and said
Look here, Moronelli, which of these
| other boys had better go?' OH! he
said-I remember his funny little old
| mug now-'has one of them to go, Mr..
| Jackson? Timminsa'-that was the
| elder-'he's a wife and family; and
Smetoni'-Smith, you know-'he's only
| boy. Times are bad for flutes ]
know it's a bit hard L said, but this
theater's going to be run much cheap
| err; one of ems got to get oh! he
said. dear me" he said.
"Well-what do you think? Next
day l had his resignation. Give yol
my word 1 did my best to turn him
Why, he was so then. At go a man
don't get jobs in a hurry. But not q
bit of 1t. All he'd say was: L shall
get a place all right" But that's it,
you know-he never did. Too long in
one shop. l heard by accident he was
| on the rocks; that's how 1 make him
that allowance. But that's the sort OF
hopeless chap he is-no idea of him
self. Cats, Why not? I'll take his old
cats on; don't let him worry about
that. I'll see to his bird, too. II
can't give 'em better time than ever
they have here, it'll be funny"
And, looking round the room, he
again uttered that profound chuckle:
why. he was with us at the Har-
mony 80 years-that's time, you know;
/ made my fortune in it,
I'm sure" 1 said, it'll be a great
relief to him.
"Oh, All. That's all right You
come down to my place"-he handed
me a card: "Mr. Cyril Porteous Jack
son, Ultima Thule, Wimbledon nd
see how fix 'em up. But IL he's really
going to kick it, I'd like to have look
at the little old chap just for old times
sake
We went into his room. where the
landlady was gazing angrily at the
cats. She went out without noise,
fiouncing her thead as much as to
say: We'll, now you can see what l
have to go through, sitting up here.
l never get out"
Our little old friend was still in that
curious stupor. He seemed uncon-
scious, but his blue eyes were not
closed, staring brightly out before
them at things we did not see. With
his silvery hair and his flushed frailty,
he had an unearthly look. Mr.. Jack
son whispered:
well, he does look queer. Poor lit
tie old chap! You tell him I'll look
after his cats and bird; he needn't
worry. And now, l think I won't keep
the car. Makes me feel bit throaty,
you know. Don't move; he might
come to-"
COME TIME sat on there, wanting
~ to deliver that message. An un-
canny vigil in the failing light, with
those five cats-yes, Ave at least. 1
was glad when the landlady came up
and l could leave the message with
her.
She opened the door to me next day
at o'clock. There was about her
that sorrowful, unmistakable impor-
tance, that peculiar mournful excite
ment, which hovers over houses where
death has entered.
Yes" she said, "he went this morn
ing. Never came round after you
left. Would you like to see him?'
He went up.
His face, as white now almost as
his silvery head, had a radiance like
that of small, bright angel gone to
sleep. No growth of hair, such as
comes on most dead faces, showed
on those frail cheeks that were now
smooth and lineless as porcelain. And
on the sheet above his chest the bull
finch sat, looking into his face.
I've got the cats in here she
pointed to the room where Mr.. Jack
son and / had talked-"alr ready for
that gentleman when he sends. But
that little bird, l don't know what to
do; he won't let me catch him, and
there he sits. 1t makes me feel all
funny"
1t had made me feel all funny, too.
"He hasn't left the money for his
funeral Dreadful, the way he never
thought about himself. I'm glad /
kept him, though" And. not to my
astonishment, she suddenly began to
cry.
A WIRE was sent to Mr.. Jackson,
1 and on the day of the funeral
went down to Ultima Thule. VIM
bledon, to see if he had carried out
his promise.
He had. In the grounds, past the
winery, an outhouse had been cleaned
and sanded, with cushions placed at
intervals against the wall. and a little
trough of milk. Nothing could have
been more suitable or luxurious.
"How's that?" he said. i've done
it thoroughly" But l noticed that he
looked a little glum.
THE only thing" he said. lis the
cats. First night they seemed all
right, and. the second there were
three of 'em left. But today the gar
dener tells me there's not the ghost of
one anywhere. It's not for want of
feeding. They've had tripe and liver
and milk--as much as ever they liked.
And Gods heads, you know---they're
very fond Of them. ] must say it's
a bit of ppointment to me-"
AS he spoke. a sandy cat which
perfectly remembered, for 1t had only
half of its left ear, appeared In the
IAnngXmH4a ann1A sEtn0A auuAklsaAk ~