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September 25, 1940.
my son, my son!
CAN see now in all its details, as clearly as though I had left it but yesterday, the dingy little furnished room in the drab Manchester slum street which Dermot O'Riordan and I had shared. for so many of our youthful years.
I can see the two iron beds in the corner, the two cheap chairs and the broken-down bureau before whose distorted mirror Dermot was shav-. ing in preparation for the most momentous event in his life.
"Bad cess to it" cried Dermot. "I would cut meself to-day of all days! Hand me a piece of paper, Will."
Without rising from my trunk-packing, I reached over to the table, pulling off the top sheet from a stack of hand-written pages, and passed it to him.
he had
"I can't use this, man!" said Dermot. "It's the story you're writing." His puckish, snubbed nose poked forward inquiringly at me as always when he was excited.
"UNC it," 1
Memories came crowd- said curtly. been a boy,
ing back to me; memories of the "That's all it's good for."
times be had stolen my cap and run
"Ah, there
now. Letting off laughing, of the times $20 30
caught me and dumped in the mud to Nellie, who had refused to ac- silpped off the paper cover, slowed old man dbcouragement ride
of the washing my mother had tolled company me to the O'Riordans be- the book under a seat cushion, called your shoulders! You've got talent over.
cause it was Chapel night.
them back, and pretended to find it imagination and heart! Why.
I went him reeling through the Sitting up in bed in bor high- there on a last suckden chance.
As they withdrew again, the boy Tel. 27778/9 man, the whole world is open for
you to write about! I've no pailence door with a blow in the face, then necked, long-sleeved nightgown and with a man who has no faith in him- followed him outside and thrashed two braids of hair lying along her clutching his book happily, Nellie him till he went scurrying down the back, she must have been stirred by came into the room. I confronted. self. Will Essex,"
my exelted awe at the thought of Oliver sternly. Dermot's having a son, Sho smiled "Oliver, why dki you steal Rory's a little shyly, looking down at the book?" bedclothes,
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Wednesday, September 25, 1940, Wyndham St., Hongkong Telephone: 26815
THA preke "Epecial to the Telegraph" la coed by the "Dearkour Talegraph" to indiosis news which la strictly expyright under the provisioma of the Telecomm Viki cations Ordinance, 181. Bach www ga bears the indication “UP” la received in Hongkong on the data of publicaillon by the United Ten Ansociations, whe_re servo all rights and forbid republication, oither wholly or in part without previous Arrangemens.
The Free Press
Mr
In a survey of the modern Press, Wickham Steed, a former editor 421 Co
The Times, London, describes Journalism as something more than craft and different from an in- dustry. In his view it is a vocation,
Exo.)
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"It's easy for you le tolk, Dermot,"
street.
I replied, "You want to be the finest England. Mean- cabinet-maker in while you work in wood
you
do.
★
Chivalrous feeling toward a
"I didn't mean to tell you so soon,
"Steal it?
But I didn't stool it!" "It was In the bookcase. You
can see what you're accomplishing timid girl and her ailing father wai but you needn't envy must have put it there. And you
and you get paid for what you
I want to be a writer-but no one had only a little to do with my Dermot. Not for long." will pay me to write. L have to acceptance of the vacated job
Anyway,
said that Rory had taken it away Overcome with joy, 1 determined with him. Wam't that a lie?"
"Yes, it was a lie. And I know I then and there that my son (and 1
would be a son) shouldn't have told it. But I didn't take any old job I can find that gives which Moscrop offered me,
never doubted it me a bare living and a chance to
While driving a bakery wagon was should be born away from the alum steal the book."
"If that isn't stealing," I said, be- write
un the side
coming almost angry at him for the there you are-all packed and ready scarcely my idea of a career, it paid in which his
enough to keep me, with the living reared. to go off and claim your bride!"
went quarters over the shop thai
I would sell the bakery, move to first time in my life, "what do you
call it?" my living by the walk with it; and the long evenings were the senside, make
Oliver explained patiently, with writing books and more booke
"Don't you see? Nellie was
parents
had
been
Dermot glanced up at *All packed!
It's a ne packer gull free to me to go on with the new work my angers to the bone disarming candor.
pleture of Brian novel I had undertaken. arc. leavin' my Boru himself hangin' on the wall" friendly in her shy, respectful way, an that my son might be reared in I took it because it was Rory's 1 He stepped over and stood in front and her father came to rely upon decent, clean, respectable surround love Rory, and I wanted to bave You bellove me of the old Irish king's pleture, ad me more and more as his action ings and have every advantage that something belonging to him-some- dressing it. "It's humiliated enough grew worse.
poverty had denied me in my child- thing that he loved. don't you, father?" hood. I am that you've had to repose this mildewed boardin' house.
Nellie
M ནམ་ After the bitter exhaustion of
for
me
Young
"What are you going to do about
"Why, there's nothing to do. It's.
settled."
was somewhat awed with my writing but disapproved of my and you the greatest of the Irish indifference to her efforts to convert
With a vast sign of relief 1 500 me to the faith that occupied most Kings Will, if I ever have a I give him back to Ireland-to live of her thoughts, or to accompany my early youthful struggles to put my arm about him. "Yes, the life I missed!"
her and her father to the weekly write an acceptable novel, the I believe you, Oliver."
this Nellle Istened. During all composition of more books came "If I ever have a son," I counter- chapel services,
silently. But when Oliver wont off ed, "I'll get him out of alum like
When I had been with them some comparatively easy to me.
to the bathroom to wash his face, this-out of a life like this,"
months, Nellle asked me one chapel My maiden book sold few copies she turned to me grimly.
the services. but won me a respectful reception at which is at once on art and an in-
When Dermet was at last shaved night to escort her to dustry It is a trusteeship, not unlike and dressed in his meagre best, and Her father was feeling too ill to go the hands of the critics. My second this?"
did only little better
Q that which is held by physictons;
the draymun bad removed his few out.
all for the trip to Liverpool
"Your chapel means a great deal pecuniarily, but established me more with this difference, however, that effects
solidly in literary circles as
"Whether I'm anything to you or shook his Shella ilved, we
to you, doesn't it, Nellie?" re- while a dishonest doctor can harm where
noi. I'm the child's mother. Do you hands warmly.
marked. "As much as writing this author who stood on the threshold of
fulfilling marked promise.
think it doesn't matter to me that al worst only a few dozen or a few
us Roon as I book means to me, I suppose."
And when "I'll be seeing you score patients, a dishonest journalist
third book was he's growing up a cheat and a liar?" Dermol back," Noid
"Oh, much more!
"Oh, it's not that bad," I said.. That's just your punished, it soon became eviden! may poison the minds of hundreds of bring Shelln
"Mind you, find yourself a good place
work.
that I had at last hit the mark that "Oilver got his sense of right and thousands of hi fellow-men. The
to live." inoral responsibility of the Press
"Why. Nellie," 1 answered with this effort was being taken to the wrong o hit muddled. Natural for a inuck severity, "haven't you heard boson both of the critics and of the child but these things are easily thus akin to that of ministers of re-
straightened out with understanding that 'work is worship.
labour reading public.
We sold "The Beaches," the little and love- ligion, statesmen, and the leaders of
huly'?"
tree-bordered suburban house where "I'm not blinded by what you call. public thought.
she interrupted. "Bringing "I'm sure that isn't in the Bible." Oliver was born, and in partnership love,"
I laughed. "' with Dermot and Sheila we pur- up a child to think he can do what "Never mind,"
he likes! I think Oliver should be thrashed for what he has done."
"And """don't."
replied quietly
There are important considerations in view of the fact that what appears in the news and editorial columns of the daily press constitutes so much, perhaps the greater part, of the read- ing of the people at large. One of the practical problems of the Press is to decide upon the length of editorial articles preferred by the Average
Mr. Steed is quite sure that
newspaper readers do not now possess the powers of sustained attention that they possessed before the Great War.
Newspaper articles are now, us a general thing, shorter than they used to be, and this, it is said, is at least parily due to the fact that when people have undergone a long period of strain they are apt to be impatient with any statement that they cannot lake in almost at a glance,
-I'll have to be a cheap one until
But I'll be all right." get a job,
all right. "Sure and you'll be Both of us will be all right." He struck an attitude. "Remember the
Excelsior!" ind with the banner.
"Onward
sponded.
and upward!" 1
re-
"Me and my hands-you with your head! Goodbye, Will. "Goodbye. Dermol."
I find
myself wondering
through Shelley Street, a mean-
and
-From-
my
The best-selling novel by
HOWARD SPRING
good-sized
if you have no other suggestion, I may as well go." I left the room and started down the hall to my own room, realising only now how much the incident had shaken me.
As I stood staring out of a win- dow, a series of sharp, agonised cries came from Oliver's room. "No! Noi Don'tt Don't!"
I dashed back into the room and estate perched high on a rocky clift overlooking a sundy cove in Corn- seized from Nellie's hand the cane was punishing the 10," shc Bilic shyly wall. Oliver was now eight, just a with which she
few months younger than Dermal's child. As I wrenched it from her and drove his little fist into my I sat through the services as at boy, Rory; and a year older than the grasp the boy suddenly turned upon. face with all his strength, crying as my thoughts of my little girl, Maeve, whom Shella had
born her husband.
"Don't tentively
hit my mother!" postponed writing would permit.
Neille and I had frequent little When we returned bame we found
Although the
er street even than the one in take you to Chapel. Who knows- chased "Heronwater," which Dermot and I lived. The you might convert a heathen." janitress at Number 28 eyed me with open hostility.
"You'll find no cheaper lodgings around 'ere, Mister, but you can look elsewhere for all I care."
"A family I knew used to live here a dozen years ago. Name of Essex."
"Never 'card of 'em."
"I'd like "Thank you, Mr. Essex."
one,
blow
Was
a puny
ng, I staggered back as though Mr. Moscrop lying in a huddled heap encounters over the rearing of our
had been dealt a mortal injury. al the foot of the staircase, as though son. Her leaning was all toward he had been trying to gain his bed- the firm but just hand, the prim Astonishment,
grief,
anger crowded severe correctness, tinged with devoutness, One another in my confused thoughts. room during a particularly Nevertheless, it is tolerably clear
that had been the keynote of her up- That he should take Nellie's side A strange sadness came over me. attack.
bringing. that the continual use of short din-
against me against his father who "My mother moved to this house the
I bent over the Inert form for a jointed sentences in an Ill-construct-day she was married," I muttored.
My ceaseless delight in the child, had been both mother and father and with Nellie's frightened She moment, ed paragraph containing mere slogans "She had nine children in it.
good fairy to him was something 1 Then I arose and my joy in the mere fact that I had
every could not grasp. Oliver and I stood and brief ex cathedra utterances, burled five from it. She died in it sobs in my ears.
her son for whom I planned OB
happiness I myself had missed in faring each other for a moment, shoulders.
walked blindly while it may sult people in regiment-herself. And you never heard of placed my hands gently
my childhood and youth-these were then I turned ard ed countries who feel themselves her!"
"There's nothing we can do, Nellie, things beyond her ken or without out of the room.
little while Incapable of thinking things out for
Nelle joined, me, a I moved slowly along to the corner.
the orbit of her sympathies. And
noted (though she sald sho
unle later. themselves, does not satisfy thought-There was Moscrop's bakery, with There's nothing anyone can do!”
its fly-blown window full of breads She leaned against me, letting her about it) the thousand little ways ful men in free countries. There are and cakes. Nothing was changed grief and fright and loneliness pour which I spoiled the lad.
of shortcuts to the formation here; but inside through the open themselves out unchecked... Per sound opinions. Of course, short and door I could see Mr. Moscrop, now haps I had already known
по
that
One evening, while I was putting
room, towing his father by the hand.
"I'm
✩
sorry for for what
pitby articles have their place, but grown old and very fat, and a rather sooner or later I was going to marry Oliver to bed. Rory burst Into the happened," she said, her voice there is something to be said for the pretty, very prim-looking young girl Nellie Moscrop. easier and more leisurely style. In who must be his daughter Neliie." point of fact, a severely condensed With them was a husky, rough- article may make greater demands on looking youth talking volubly, evi-
the attention than
tin
Over Dermot's laughing protests, the shaking a little; "but I had to boy insisted upon recovering fron do and say what I believe to be Oliver a book he had lent him--"The right.” Irish Kings."
☆
"I know-I know. The best thing for all of us now is to try and-for- u longer one.dently engaged in some sort of Significant as the event was Anyone who wishes to do so may altercation with old man Moscrop in my life, the arrival of the
get it," make
Interesting
"No. We've got to have an under-- experiment. I could hear his tirade, interspersed printed copies of my first pub- "Oh, Rory," protested Oliver, Let him take mm essay of Baron con-
with crude billingsgate.
lished book was overshadowed "you're always losing things, standing about Ollyar. You've al- taining say 350 words, read it once, and then try to give the substance "Wot if I am short in my collece by something even more por "You know I haven't got your ways made his upbringing your busi of it in his own words,
tions! How much do yer pay me
For on the same night book." tentous. for drivin' yer blasted van, anyway?
don't like yer bloomin' job, an' I'm Dermot O'Riordan's son
born. chuckin', It this very minute!"
WAN
•
It's always, your sonyour
"Nellie," I-sald Mr. Steed has something to say
"why slowly, But Rory Insisted with a simple upon the subject of broadcasting, and
earnestness that could not be denied, you ever marry mo? I continued
bewilderment; what he says is the more Interesting
Finally I suggested, that we look as she looked at me, in that he is a broadenster as well as
Old Moscrop, his asthma plainly This, in my own envious eyes, around for it. I ran my eye quick and anguish in her eyes. "We're a journalist. He says that broad- casting has a wider appeal than the grown worse with the years and now caused my accomplishment to pale y over the books on Oliver's shelves, miles apart on everythingon
to nothingness. Arriving
that looked un kind of I'm to on chair Press, because the newspaper public gravated by excitement, sat in his almost
whereas
the
1.
broadcaster may speak to trace and to speak. Nelle had, clapped her while: Dermot what polishing und familiar. It bore a paper caver. On we are to live, on how to bring up cried almost literate alike. Tennyson said, how hands over her ears to shut out the and keeping a constant car cocked which a childish hand had lettered our child-averything! I don't mind.
Opening the book out of curiosity, Ob. Oliver she ever, that things seen are mightier driver's vile language. The youth upward toward Shella's bedroom, I the title, "Adventures for myself but I mind for Oliver."
almost forgot to mention my book. I discovered that it was Rory's "Irish Dercely. That's the roof of fit
how Oliver! Everythin than things heard, and most people seized her arms roughly. are more impressed by the printed "Dainty, ain't yer? Dainty and yet Dermot was vastly delighted Kings Surprised and disturbed at Everything
"Why not?"-I said slowly "What word,
which remains, than by the religious! Yer don't like my lan- at it, and even more at the dedica. Oliver's, subterfuge, I nevertheless. spoken word, which flies,
Dermot såld nothing. Immediately, but re- else has our marriage brought me?" They like gunge, do yer?" He dung down her tion:To my friend, to see the news in actual print. They want to take it in more cully and arms and turned to the door as O'Riordan, without whose good ad- turned the book to the shelf and For a moment we stood looking at televice and bad language, this book permitted, the search to end in each other, the veil between us rent.
fallura.
Then Nelle turned and hurried from think. It over. Perhaps that is one stepped into the shop.
Face to face, now, we recognised would never have been started"
(To be continued) reason why we are so regularly re minded that further detalls will be each other. It was Tint Higgins, As soon as the child was born I But after Dermot and Rory gave the room.
had hastened home to tell the good news up, and left the roam, I hurriedly found in your local newspaper?! the neighbourhood bully when
f
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