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"For Father's Sake," or A Tale of New Zealand Life

Chapter VI

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Chapter VI.

Nellie," said Mrs. Main, one day soon after the incident related in our last chapter, "Your father wants you to go up to the station to-morrow."

Mrs. Main was standing in the garden, whither her daughter had wandered for a few minutes quiet musing. She was a little woman, with dark hair and blue eyas; and always neatly dressed. She was not beautiful, not even pretty, but she was not plain: that you would discover in less than five minutes of your conversation with her. The peculiar drooping of the eyelids would first attract your notice; then you would make the discovery that more lay beneath the surface than was ever allowed to appear above; and that that pretended outspoken tone covered much quiet sarcasm.

At the sound of that slightly peevish voice, down went the garden rake, up sprang the gardener, away flew the garden soliloquy.

"Mother, mother, are you in earnest? Does he really? Can I go? When?" The dark eyes were dancing, and the little face was the picture of excitement.

"How often have I told you not to be so boisterous, child," rebuked Mrs. Main. "You are quite old enough now to have done with that nonsense. To-morrow you are to go, John will wait for you." The mother returned to the house to make preparations for an early start in the morning; and Nellie, too excited to notice her mother's troubled brow, flew about settling things she said (but in page 53reality unsettling things), and positively declaring that, in order to be up in time in the morning, she would not go to bed all night. She so faithfully carried out her intentions that Mrs. Main had to remind her several times of her declaration before she awoke to the fact that it was daylight.

"Right, mother! I'm coming. The spirit was willing but the flesh was weak," cried Nellie as she sprang out of bed, and into her habit. "I shall not enjoy this ride very much," thought she, as she was preparing to mount her flighty steed. "John is so slow. Oh, it is so nice to be on Beauty again, and" a merry twinkle came into the bright dark eyes, "I'll stir some life into the old fellow; see if I don't."

Sad to say, this time Nellie kept her promise, and although she did not exactly keep up with the wind, she was not far behind; and John, poor old fellow, had to keep up with her.

"Ah, John! that is just what you want. Some one to put spirit into you," said the mischievous girl as they reached her father's gate, and, pretending to be unconscious of John's chagrin, she patted Beauty's neck.

John's voice assumed a tone of solemn warning. "Miss Nellie," said he, "I have learned wisdom with the increase of years. When you reach my age, you, too, will learn this truth: Take your time over doing everything, and see that you do it well."

"I shall benefit by your timely advise," answered in the same solemn tone. "Already I know 'tis wise to ride slowly if not sure of your seat; and to declare the horse's feet at fault by way of excuse. Dear old Beauty," she added, jumping down, and throwing an arm around Beauty's neck, "Dear old Beauty, your cruel mistress has ridden you badly to-day, but she will not offend again."

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"Yes! and indeed, Miss, you have taken all the life out of him." John looked pityingly at the foam - streaked flanks.

"And put it into you, John; how ungrateful you are. Scolding me like that." Nellie ran off, leaving John to follow with the horses.

Poor old John scratched his iron-grey head and thought. "Miss is always saying foolish things," he mused. "When she does speak sense she never uses plain English, so that a fellow can understand,"

Thou child of the ancient Touchstone; well dost thou honour thy father's teachings, for thou dost indeed "speak wisely what wise men do foolishly." Abstruse is a very convenient word in the English language. It becomes especially useful in connection with the speaker's meaning, when the fault lies in the understanding capacity of the hearer; and Foolish becomes almost more useful when the same hearer is smarting under coverted home thrusts.

Imagine Nellie's surprise when on reaching the homestead she found everything in confusion. The house itself looked deserted. No living creature appeared in sight. Nothing but a heap of motionless disorder met the gaze of the wondering girl. "I declare," said she half aloud, "the place looks as if everything on the farm has been deposited about its doors, and the depositors have gone off to bring the chattels from the surrounding neighbourhood. It is very strange that father did not come to meet me. I wonder where he is." She was not kept long in suspense. Soon she perceived her father coming toward her.

"You are early, child."

"Yes, papa; we started early."

"And rode fast," chimed in John's voice.

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"What is the meaning of all this, father? Such a confusion." Nellie's eyes wandered over the piles upon piles of farming implements.

"I am leaving the station," answered Mr. Main, in a hard bitter tone.

"Leaving the station! O father! What for?" Nellie's eyes filled with tears.

"The work is too hard, and my losses have been great. There are but two alternatives: either I must leave it, or it will leave me. Of the two evils I accept the former." Then turning away he added, more to himself than to his listener, "All my hard labour, all my hopes, all my plans, everything, even life itself, I have sacrificed to an unselfish end. It was not for myself I courted prosperity; it was for my family. I wanted them to be independent when I was gone. I wanted to leave enough to keep them from want. I brought them into the world, it was my duty to provide for them. Yet what is the result? Failure. Ingratitude. Loss. Oh! it is a bitter cup indeed." Strong man as he was, his voice quivered, and his eyes grew misty, as he gazed over the wide stretch of grassy level which had caused him so much toil and expense to make it even as it was—moderately useful.

O strange deep love of parent. Beside which all else becomes as naught. Self-sacrificing, protecting, unselfish love. Where is thy superior? Ah! too often we sacrifice on thine altar when it is too late. Discuss not "Paternal love." Its meaning is beyond the power of language. Let it ascend to heaven, as it descended from thence; ascend, silently, grandly, mysteriously.

Long into that night Nellie sat thinking. The happy past, the uncertain present, and the changeful future. She thought of her father's strange words, she thought of her page 56own dark forebodings, she thought with a shudder of the dark vacuum beyond. She put two and two together, and drew her own conclusions.

Ere daybreak the next morning Nellie was up. Her father had been up for some time; she had heard him creep past her door stealthily, that he might not disturb her. Hastily dressing herself, she went in search of him. He was in the barn; but, O, the barn was a barn no longer; it was a restaurant. Reaching from one end of the barn (or restaurant) to the other, and standing in the middle of the floor, was a white draped table, laden with glasses, bottles, plates, sandwiches, cheese, in fact with everything required to form a good luncheon. In one corner stood two kegs, and from each keg projected a tap, and on each tap was tied a label. Suspicious-looking kegs, wonderful kegs, mysterious kegs; what charm had they that they were always surrounded by—by—never mind what by.

"I shall want you to stay near all day, Nellie," said Mr. Main, "and see that every one is served. In the case of any one requiring tea you will have to get it. I don't suppose, however, that they will think of tea while that stuff is there," pointing to the modest looking kegs. "You will not have much trouble, Sarah will do all the running about."

Nellie surveyed the arrangements with evident satisfaction, she even added to them by decorating the walls and table with fern and green leaves.

Two hours afterwards a large brake, filled and covered and almost concealed with men, arrived from town. Vehicle after vehicle followed: spring-carts, waggons, buggies, gigs, drays, and even wheel-barrows, constituted the vehicle procession. Horsemen, footmen, dogs, followed in the wake of the procession. Men (masters and servants) page 57poured in from all the neighbouring stations, flooding house and barn and stable and yards, with their dusty forms and stockman's slang. The air became filled with their stentorian voices, and it was hard so tell which was the sycophant, which the sincere. Like bees those men swarmed into the barn to eat and be merry, to crack their jokes over the wine glass, and to comment upon the enigmas of life. To describe the scene accurately is almost beyond the power of pen. Those who have been at a country sale will understand without descriptive proficiency.

In the centre and on a slight elevation stood the tall gaunt form of the auctioneer; the hammer in his uplifted hand; at his feet the goods and chattels for sale. Around him, on every side, like the undulating waves around the buoy, were gathered the eager pulsating purchasers. Squatter Gould was there, with his half a dozen men and twice that number of dogs; with his big red face, and his bigger fist; with his pompous "I's" and his still more pompous "Me's."

So also Farmer Dunn, with his imposing stock whip, the lash of which was curled round and round in his hand, and the handle resting alternately on his hips or his hobnailed boot. Cadet Grey, with his polished spurs and his insinuating smile. Deaf Sonton (nick - named Lord Herbert) heard by all, though himself vainly trying to hear. Joseph Smith (poor man; his coat grown too small for his frame, or his frame grown too big for his coat): up and down he stalks, brandishing his inch thick stick, and puffing and blowing like a pair of blacksmith's bellows, greats beads of perspiration standing out on his sunburnt face.

There were men there, keen and sharp, and with whom it was hard to make a deal. Men of fewer years page 58perhaps, but men of greater wit. That man moves about among the sheep, but mark you, indifferent as he seems, he well knows what he is doing: he may be able to tell you more about the sale when it is over than can anyone else. This man is doing a great deal of talk. Are you well trained in the idioms of expression? If so, you cannot fail to notice the unnatural strain. His words are forced in order to serve a purpose. On the face of another man there rests a significant smile. Was that a genuine salutation which he gave to a new arrival? And what was the meaning of that wink? Perhaps he was shy and did not like to hear his own voice, or possibly he had a sore throat. But everyone there has a peculiarity, and it is interesting to note each, and to comment upon the different meanings. One pen of sheep is put up, sold, and sent away; presently the new owner will follow to see his brand and ear-mark put upon each sheep, but in the meantime he must have his glass. It may be he will see something else no one but himself has a right to have. Under the hammer, down the alley, on to the road, pen of sheep follow pen; each separate flock driven by its allotted men who are helped by their allotted dogs. Now the sheep farmers stand back and the brawny muscular stockmen step to the front. How strong and manly those sons of Esau look as they stand beneath the auctioneer's gaze; their well built supple frames cased in white woollen shirts and corduroy trousers; a bright coloured silk pocket handkerchief tied loosley around their necks, and on their wavy tumbled hair a wide-a-wake hat, such men make us ashamed of our puny town bred inhabitants.

Click, click, goes the auctioneer's hammer; every knock telling of some fresh change. The cattle are sold. The machinery and general implements are sold. Then come the horses: one by one they are led out and paraded up page 59and down in front of the rows of buyers, one by one they are passed over to whom they now belong, and, one by one they go to help swell the revenues of another. The sale is postponed until the next day, when a repetition of the same scene, with slight variations, takes place. The whole of the Main stud has to be disposed off without reserve that day.

There is an entirely different class in the foreground when that variation is being played. Cunning, sharp and avaricious, those men are as entirely different from the vociferating sheep farmer or the brawny stockman as is possible for men to be. The bidding is high and keen. There is no cool calculating, no laying down of the law among these men. All that has been done the night before. To take their attention from the auctioneer, and to walk up and down expostulating and explaining would not do for them. Such proceedings might suit the easy going farmers; but wily fish require the bait to be carefully laid if the fisher wish to catch the fish. See, the wine is taking effect, and the excitement is increasing (Is that not what is wanted?) Seventy, eighty, ninety, and into the hundreds, on, on until one bidder out bids the other. Down goes the hammer, and down goes the price. Poor dupe, which will you regret the most, the descent of the hammer or the descent of the pounds. After the exitement is over, when the judgement returns, many a finger is bitten, and many a man raves; but it is too late for retraction, and everyone must take his chance. One thing, I must solemly warn you, never go visiting your country friends on the day after a large sale. You will be driven crazy by the continual repetition of the wonderful things to be done with, and the wonderful profits to be made from, those new possessions.

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So much for the buyer; but what of the seller? He too sn counting the cost, and making up the balance. Think you there was no pain in his heart as he saw one after another of his produce; stock he had handled and caressed; had learned to regard in the light and in the office of children; saw them pass into the possession of another, to be fondled or abused according to the varying humour? Ah! To know the plain truth, you must put yourself into that sellers place.

A sage of the ancient times once imagined he was very clever. He could see a defect in the formation of man if no one else could. He was the personification of "Had I been the maker there would have been a difference." So to give his wisdom vent, he inserted into the mythological worship the deity of Sarcasm. And, as the story goes, Jupiter, bursting with pride at the excellence of his handiwork, brought for that deity's inspection, the first man. "Capital," exclaimed the Satire, viewing the perfect contour. "Capital, it has one defect, however: it needs a window in the breast that we might see the workings of the heart." Wise sage, he had forgotten to tell his deity to look for the door. In the breast of every man there is a door whereby man may not only view from without, but he may also enter within. The name of that door is "Fellow feeling." And if the right steps which lead to that door be ascended, man need never be anxious concerning their admittance into the workings of the heart of their fellow men.

To the world Mr. Main holds up a proud head and a smiling face. The auctioneer's jests amuse him, and as a reward, he offers the jester a glass of sparkling wine. The buyers he encourages by the same free gift. For purchaser and for purchased words of commendation flow from his pseudo-proud lips; and his bearing indicates rather than page 61declares his perfect satisfaction. Vanity! Vanity! All is vanity and vexation of spirit. Look at him now. His jests are turned into sighs, his praises into regrets. He wanders about his deserted place, feeling a stranger in his own home, knowing that soon other hands will reap that which he has sown.

Farmer Main leaves the station. A novice has leased it, and, with his wonderful home experience, he is going to cause a revolution. He is going to shew "Those fools of Colonials what Englanders can do." Take care young man. Pride comes before a fall. Better men than you have displayed the same marvellous wisdom and have failed; sadly, hopelessly failed. You have a great deal to learn, and the lessons are rudely taught.