THEY GOT TO THE DANCE AFTER ALL

STRATEGY, PLUS A LITTLE LUCK, HELPED THEM THROUGH

It was during the darkest days of the depression. Bill and Tom were two decent enough fellows, with their 21st birthdays only a few months away. It was not their fault that they could find no work.

Both their fathers were working part time, and had no spending money to spare for their sons. As a result, both lads were forced to remain out of most things in the way of amusement.

It was little use trying to secure work among the neighboring farmers; owing to the low price of wheat hardly any one could afford to employ labor. and the two lads had reached that despairing and rebellious state of mind where they were willing to take a chance in order to gain a little of the pleasure which they saw others enjoying, but from which they were shut out by that invisible yet real barrier, lack of pocket money.

The big dance of the season was to be held that night, but at another town sixty miles away, and every car from the district had its full complement of passengers. A train was also running — but they could not afford the fare. Each still had a fairly presentable shirt, suit and shoes; they also had the few shillings needed for admission to the hall. How to get there and back was the problem. Dressed ready for the dance, they went to the store and stood under the lights, in the hope that some car would be able to squeeze them in, but their luck was out.

'Think we could take a risk by get ting on the train?' Bill suggested.

Tom shook his head. 'What's the use of hanging around here any longer,' he replied. 'Come on, let's go home.'

In silence they walked down the street and turned to take a short cut across the railway yard. By the side of the gangers' barracks Bill halted. 'I've got an idea,' he whispered excitedly. 'We can get there after all. Nick home, quick, out on some old clothes, shove your good ones in a bag, and meet me here. Go on, run— the train'll be here any moment.'

The two young men met again just as the train drew up at the platform. Bill pointed to the little trolley-car used by the fettlers. 'Shove her on the line, quick,' he whispered. 'We'll run her up to the back of the guard's van and hitch her on. I've brought a lump of rope. Shake a leg, Tom, the train'll be going in a second.'

Panting from their exertions, they got the little trolley on the rails, it seemed to make an awful noise as they pushed it along, and they expected to be detected at any moment, but they reached the rear of the train without being seen. Bill hastily tied the rope, then they sat on either side, their hearts beating fast with suspense and each clutching the precious bag which held their good clothes. Doors slammed along the train, the whistle blew, couplings rattled, and they were off.

Before a hundred yards had been covered, there was an unforseen complication. The trolley was worked by a kind of see-saw lever in the middle, which turned the wheels by cranks. This lever was now flying up and down at an appalling speed, though the train had hardly begun to move.

'Heavens, what can we do?' Tom gasped. 'That thing will bust in a minute. Untie that rope, quick!'

'How can I get there to untie it, with that lever whizzing up and down like it is,' Bill retorted: 'I'll have my head knocked off.'

The two young men, now thoroughly scared, could only grip the sides of the little trolley and wait to see what would happen. As the train gathered speed the lever became a blur which made a noise like an aeroplane propeller; the wind of the train's passage nearly blew them off their perches, and a shower of grit stung their faces and hands. They expected something to smash any moment. Each toyed with the idea of ending the suspense by jumping off, but one glance at the ballast whizzing past under them was sufficient to convince them that it could not be done without the risk of serious injury. Heads down to protect themselves from the stinging gravel and wind, they could only hang on and offer up incoherent prayers.

At last the train slowed down. As it entered the station yard Bill wriggled cautiously forward, lying flat to keep clear of that whizzing lever, and untied the rope. The tail light of the train began to draw away; Tom found the brake, and the trolley came to a stop. Shaking in every limb, they pushed it off the track and then looked at each other.

'Bet we're in an awful mess,' remarked Tom. Bill glanced around. 'We must have a wash,' he agreed. Tom had a brain-wave. 'Old Joe lives over there,' he cried. 'He's a good old sport and he'll help us.'

When they walked into the old man's bachelor hut, the owner stared at their grimy faces in amazement. They explained matters in a few words. 'You pair of lunatics!' the old man exclaimed. 'It's a wonder you weren't both killed. Still, I was young once, and, by heaven, I know what it is to be broke.'

As he spoke he stirred up the fire, put a bucket of water on to heat, and carried in his bath tub. 'Strip off,' he directed, 'and get clean.' Half an hour later nobody would have known that the two youngsters had not travelled in the orthodox way; their host assured them that he would keep their secret. 'But you get a lift home.' he added, 'or come here, knock me up and borrow your fare for the express. No more of these trailer stunts behind a train that's doing sixty, see?'

They had a most enjoyable tune at the dance, and it was Bill who solved the problem of how they were going to get home. During the supper interval somebody dropped a postage stamp when he opened a cigarette case. Bill picked it up, placed it on the palm of his hand and began to toss it in the air, with an expression of concentration on his face. Naturally, someone wanted to know what he was doing.

'I'm going to throw this up so it'll stick on the ceiling,' he replied. 'I always do that when I'm visiting a place like this — sort of visiting card of mine, a stamp stuck on the ceiling.'

The usual know-alls laughed at him, but Bill kept on tossing the stamp. Somebody offered to bet him a bob that he'd never do it in a month of Sundays; another man offered to bet ten shillings, and so did a third.

'Wish you were serious,' Bill retorted, 'I'd take those bets—and half a dozen more.' The others repeated their offers, and Bill replied. 'You're on.'

Taking a penny from his pocket, he licked the stamp on both sides and stuck it on the coin, gummed side up. He gave a quick flip of his hand, the penny whacked against the ceiling and dropped again, leaving the stamp stuck there.

Bill collected the bets at once, and he and his mate paid their fares home on the express in the early hours of the morning. That ends the story — except that both young men now have Jobs.

It may also explain how the missing railway trolley, about which so many departmental 'Please explains' were sent out, came to be found by the be wildered railway fettlers sixty miles away from the spot where it had been left the previous evening. - 'Bogaduck.'

The 'Mad' School Teacher

In the bush, one hears plenty of tales of shepherds and boundary riders going off their head from loneliness, while many a stray prospector turns out to be more than a little queer in the head after short acquaintance. It is not generally realised, however, that there are other jobs quite as lonely, and equally drastic in their effects upon the victims. Not the least of these, is that of teaching in a small bush school.

On one occasion, we began to hear strange rumors about the teacher in charge of a small school, a few miles away on the other side of our township. Nobody could say anything very definite, for the poor fellow could not afford either a horse or sulky, and only came into town on the rare occasions he was offered a lift.

This left him virtually a stranger, even by sight. Rumor had it, that he had been up to all sorts of tricks, including teaching in an open-necked shirt, taking the youngsters for picnics in the bush during school hours, keeping in his good scholars, and giving marks to the dunces. But there was not really enough evidence to swing a cat on, and some of the more cynical townsfolk suggested that it was a pity a few more teachers didn't go mad enough to wear open shirts in summertime.

Nevertheless, there was a background of rumor to work on. There were no fresh developments until the inspector arrived, and commenced to make discreet enquiries about the behaviour of his subordinate. Naturally, his confidences were betrayed right and left, and feeling that there was a demand, rumor soon found a supply of hair-raising anecdotes to amuse him. The inspector's only grievance was that the offending teacher had not answered any official correspondence for over three months, and except for drawing his pay, had virtually severed all official relations with the Education Department.

Eventually, the inspector came to the conclusion that the man must have been off his head, and indiscreetly collected two or three reputable townsmen to drive out with him in his buggy and round up the 'lunatic.'

When they got there the poor fellow acted sanely enough, until the visitors had him surrounded, and sprang upon him at a given signal. Naturally, he fought like a lion, as anybody else would have done under similar circumstances, and he gradually overcame his would-be captors with blows like a battering ram. This only served to confirm the inspector's belief that he was dealing with a mad man, and in his terror, he incautiously let slip this piece of information, when the puzzled teacher questioned him.

'Of course, I've been doing just what I liked,' the teacher finally explained. 'I sent in my resignation three months ago, and I've been stuck here waiting for a reply, and a relieving teacher ever since!'

It was never found out why his resignation had not been recorded, but a battered and indignant inspector soon found means of securing the unfortunate man's long-delayed discharge from the teaching service.

The youngsters attending the school were by no means overjoyed when a new and conscientious teacher, who had no intention of resigning, came upon the scene, and commenced to restore discipline.

About another case, there can be little doubt. A new teacher came to a larger school in the same district. The headmaster naturally asked him where he had come from, and was dismayed to learn that the assistant had just been discharged from an asylum for the insane, although the victim earnestly assured him that he was completely cured. The headmaster took things very warily, but found no cause for alarm. The man did his work quietly and efficiently, his only kink being a tendency to let his hair grow to a great length.

With the greatest of tact, the headmaster approached him one day, and sang the praises of his own barber, until the long-haired assistant agreed to give him a trial. He was escorted to the hairdressing saloon after school, and left there.

Next morning the headmaster was puzzled by the ringing laughter of the children in one of the classrooms. As the noise showed no sign of abating after a few minutes, he walked over to see what the trouble was. It was in the unfortunate assistant's room, and on gazing through the window, the headmaster nearly fainted, when he saw that his man had had the dome of his head completely shaven, and was as bald and gleaming as an eggshell!

After this incident, the assistant was allowed to wear his hair as long as he liked, and apart from this one idiosyncrasy, apparently lived a perfectly normal and satisfactory existence, as long as he stayed in the district. — 'Alpha.'