by Jack Lasenby
“He went to bring them up the other morning, and wouldn’t bark, but the cows took one look at him and started mooching their way up the race. Creatures of habit, like I said. That afternoon, he didn’t bark, and they took a bit longer to get moving. Next morning, he wouldn’t bark again, and the cows ignored him and went on chewing grass.
“‘Speak up,’ I roared at him, but he took no notice. Those cows knew something was up. They put their heads down, lurched their horns at Old Tip, and the cowardly brute scuttled off with his tail between his legs. If a dog won’t use his bark, your average cow isn’t going to be scared of him.”
Mum thumped away at something on the bench. “You can push that kettle over the ring,” she said, and gave Uncle Trev a stern look.
“What did Old Toot do that gave Old Tip the huff?” I asked.
“You know how Old Toot can open all the gates around the farm?”
I nodded.
“Old Tip tried to copy him. ‘It’s no real use to a dog, knowing how to open a gate,’ I told him. ‘You can always jump it, or dive through the fence.’ But, because Old Toot could open gates, I had to teach Old Tip the knack. Next thing I knew, the old swindler was opening my back door.”
“Why didn’t you lock it?”
“It’s never been locked since the day I built it. Besides, I’ve no idea what happened to the key. Anyway, Old Tip started letting himself in the back door after I’d gone to bed, and he’d drag a chair in front of the stove and sleep warm. I’ve even come out in the morning and found the oven door open where he’d been sitting with his feet inside it, just like you.”
Mum muttered something, and Uncle Trev grinned at her back.
“I tried sneaking out to catch him, but a dog’s ears are sharp. What gave him away was the fact that the back door takes a bit of closing. I found it ajar and knew he’d been inside again.
“Then one night I heard him snoring, tiptoed out, and nearly caught him, but he heard me coming and whipped outside. Next thing, there was a hullabaloo from his kennel under the big macrocarpa.
“I lit the hurricane lantern and went out to see what was going on. Old Toot’s head was sticking out of the kennel, his teeth bared. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but there was enough light from the lantern to read his lips. He was telling Old Tip to get –”
My mother’s back went rigid. She was about to turn around and kick Uncle Trev out of her house for using rude language.
“– to get away,” Uncle Trev said.
Mum’s back relaxed and she thumped the mixture on the bench again. Uncle Trev went “Phew” silently with his lips.
“Next morning I told them to cut it out, but Old Tip went on letting himself inside to sleep in front of the stove, and Old Toot waited till he settled down, and climbed inside his kennel.
“‘Aren’t you just being a dog in the manger?’ I asked Old Tip.
“‘It’s my kennel,’ he said. ‘Besides, what if Old Toot starts wearing my collar?’
“I could see Old Tip’s point. First his kennel, then his collar. Next thing, Old Toot’d be eating his tucker.” Uncle Trev nodded at Mum’s back. “What with those two arguing at the top of their voices half the night, I was getting no sleep. Then Gotta Henry complained he could hear the din from his place.
“I padlocked Old Toot’s gate and that night I jammed the back of my chair under the door handle so Old Tip couldn’t shove it open. In the middle of the night, I heard the handle rattling and went back to sleep.” Uncle Trev rubbed his chin.
“Well?” said Mum.
“What’s that?” Uncle Trev asked her.
“I didn’t say anything,” Mum said furiously.
Uncle Trev nodded. “I was having a cup of tea before going down to the shed next morning,” he said, “and felt a draught. The bottom of the kitchen window was open a good couple of inches. I knew what that meant. It pushes up easy, but it’s hard to close, that window.
“The same thing happened next night. Not only that, but Old Toot must’ve watched Old Tip getting in the window, so he climbed his gate, don’t ask me how, and got into Old Tip’s kennel again. Old Tip found him there when he got out the window in the morning. You’ve never heard such a ruckus.
“That evening, I put hobbles on Old Toot. ‘Let’s see you climb the gate wearing those,’ I told him. And I put Old Tip on the chain and told him, ‘If you want your kennel, then sleep in it.’
“I got a good night’s sleep, but that’s when Old Tip went bolshie and wouldn’t bark.”
“Take your feet out of my oven,’ Mum told me. She slammed the oven door, pulled out the damper, and put on more coal. I saw she was mixing a cake.
“I’ll make some scones first, once the oven’s hot enough,” Mum said. “You,” she told Uncle Trev, “you can have a cup of tea and a scone, and get back out to that lunatic asylum you call a farm. Horses in kennels; dogs pushing up the window and climbing inside – I’ve never heard such nonsense in all my born days.”
So we had some date scones, and Mum and Uncle Trev had a cup of tea.
“Why aren’t you looking forward to going back to school?” he asked, pulling his hat from under his chair.
I said nothing.
“Now the doctor says we can go back to school,” Mum told him, “we’ve decided we don’t want to. We’ve been away so long, all the other children will laugh at us.”
I hung my head.
“Here, you might as well take the rest of these with you.” Mum was wrapping the scones in a tea towel for Uncle Trev.
“What if I get the milking done early?” he said to me. “I can be in here by eight-thirty, and Old Tip’ll take you to school. Those kids won’t laugh at you then.”
I stared.
“But I can’t run him in for three o’clock to bring you home; it’d make me too late for the afternoon milking.”
“We’re coming home at midday till we see how things go, the doctor suggested,” said Mum.
“Then I’ll drop Old Tip at the school gate, and he can bring you home at midday.”
I grinned at Uncle Trev.
“While you’re walking home,” he said, “you might have a word with Old Tip about using his bark again. It’s driving me mad, having to chase the cows up to the shed myself. They won’t move unless I bark, and it’s making me hoarse.”
I nodded.
“That takes a load off my mind. I warned Old Tip I was going to get rid of him. I said to him, ‘Why should I waste good tucker on a dog who’s too bolshie to be bothered barking?’ He looked sorry for himself and tried wiping his eyes, but he’s worked that one on me before.”
“Talking dogs that open windows, hobbled horses that climb gates and curl up inside kennels. And now you want to the child to believe that smelly old dog cries and wipes his eyes –” Mum would have said more, but Uncle Trev tucked the scones under one arm and ran.
“You get back on your bed,” Mum told me. “You’re looking peaky. It’s listening to all that nonsense of your uncle’s.”
I climbed on to my bed, and thought of going back to school tomorrow – with Old Tip. “All the other kids’ll want to pat him,” I said aloud.
“What’s that?” Mum called.
“Nothing.”
I lay very still, curled up my toes silently and grinned to myself.
THE END
Glossary
Auckland Weekly News: an illustrated magazine that was the main reading for many a New Zealand farmer
Aunt Daisy: the famous New Zealand radio broadcaster, entertaining, informative, and above all, kind
baching: living and cooking on your own – usually a term used of a man, a bachelor
back-cut: the cut put into the back of a tree, the opposite side from the scarf
bakelite: a curiously smelly plastic invented about 1909
bell tent: a conical tent with a central pole
bob: a coin worth about ten cents in the old money
bolshie: disobedient and uncooperative
breaking-down saw: the saw that makes the first cuts in a log
brown top: a pasture grass
buggy: a two- or four-wheeled horse-drawn vehicle for carrying people
camp oven: a round heavy cast-iron pot for cooking everything from stews to bread
chain: an old measurement of 22 yards or about 20 metres
chook: a fowl, what we call a chicken today
clearfelling: chopping and burning off bush to make way for farms
clucky: a hen that’s ready to hatch eggs is said to be clucky because of the clucking sound it makes
cocky: farmer
Cocky’s Joy: golden syrup
counterpane: an old word for bedspread
cut-down Model A: an old Ford car with the back altered to make it into a small lorry
cutty-grass: any sharp-edged grass, especially toetoe and pampas
danthonia: a poor-quality native grass
Depression: the Great Depression (what we now call a recession) began about 1931 and lasted several years; many people were poor, wages were low, and jobs were few
Dominion: New Zealand used to be called a Dominion of the British Empire
doss down: to sleep in a place
draught horse: a heavy working horse
dray: a low heavy cart
drive: to shift logs down a river by damming it and letting the water go suddenly
dropping: a dropper used to supply alcohol to the sly-groggers
dry stock: sheep and cattle that are fattened for their meat
exchange: back in the 1930s, all phone calls went through a telephone exchange worked by hand
flicks: pictures, cinema, film. Early films used to flicker, hence the “flicks”, and they had no sound before the “talkies” were invented
foot: an old measurement of about 35 centimetres
furlong: an old measurement of 220 yards or about 200 metres
gee-gees: an old name for horses, especially race-horses
gallon: an old measure of about four and a half litres
gem iron: a heavy cast-iron pan for cooking gems
gem: a small, light, fluffy cake
gig: two-wheeled cart drawn by one horse
grid: a bicycle
hand’s turn: a bit of work
hard stuff: whisky
hinaki: an eel trap; sometimes used to mean gaol
hobbles: leather straps buckled around the front legs of a horse to keep it from straying
Home: a nostalgic name many white New Zealanders used for Britain
hundredweight: 112 pounds in the old measure, equal to nearly 51 kilograms
inch: an old measure of about two and a half centimetres
Johnny Turk: a nickname for the Turkish soldier
kaik: short for a kahikatea tree
Kaiser: the German Emperor during the Great War, 1914–18
kehua: ghost
kerosene tin: kerosene used to be sold in handy four-gallon tins that held about 18 litres
konaki: a farm sledge, sometimes made out of a heavy forked branch
lino: linoleum floor covering.
Matamata Record: a local newspaper.
Model T: the famous Ford car built from 1908–1927
Napoleon: Emperor of France in the early nineteenth century
Old Puckeroo: a famous homemade whisky from Waharoa
party line: several people shared one telephone line, so they often listened to each other’s conversations
perm: (permanent wave) a curious fashion of waving or curling hair that made it look and feel like corrugated iron
pitsaw: a long saw used to cut a log lengthwise, one man standing on top, the other in the pit below
plain and purl: a simple knitting pattern
plough-line: a light rope used for the reins of plough-horses and for all sorts of jobs around a farm
pook: pukeko
pound: an old measurement of about half a kilogram
puha: tasty sow-thistle or soft thistle; sometimes called rauriki
quack: a doctor
quid: a slang term for pound, two dollars in the old money
rank and stank: people who think themselves important
raupo: a New Zealand bulrush, common in swamps
Rawleigh’s Man: a travelling salesman for the Rawleigh Company selling many household, farm, and medical items to people who couldn’t get to town
ricker: a tall pole-like young tree trunk
ring: the central hottest iron disc on the top of a coal stove
sailer: a branch that comes off a falling tree and flies like a huge arrow
Sallies: the Salvation Army
scarf: the cut put into a tree to make it fall in a certain direction
scow: a flat-bottomed sailboat used for carrying cargoes around the New Zealand coast
scrag: to give a hiding
shell-shock: a mental illness from war
sheila: a girl, a woman (sometimes considered offensive)
sherang: a boss
shower: a light muslin cloth to cover food and keep off flies; sometimes called a throwover
sixpence: a coin worth about five cents in the old money
skim-dick: skimmed milk that’s had the cream separated out of it for making butter
Slump: often used for a shorter depression
sly-grogging: somebody who sells alcohol without a licence
smidgen: a very little bit
snig: to drag a log with ropes or chains
snipe: to trim the end of a log round and make it easier to drag
sole-charge school: there were once lots of small schools with one teacher in New Zealand
sou-wester: waterproof oilskin hat
steak-and-kidney pudding: one of the world’s great meals that real mums used to cook for their families
steam tram: from 1910–1927, a steam tram ran from Bayswater to Takapuna, including a loop around Lake Pupuke
Stockholm tar: a pine tar preservative, also used as a dressing for wounds on stock, and for treating horses’ foot infections
strainer post: the big strong post to which fence wires are strained
stumping: pulling out tree stumps
sugarbag: a jute sack holding 70 pounds of sugar
taihoa: soon, just a minute, by and by
Taranaki gate: a contraption of barbed wire and battens held up by loops of number eight wire to make a rough farm gate
TB shelters: tb – the infectious disease tuberculosis. The shelters were half-open huts for tb patients, built in the hope the open air would cure them
timber jack: an ingenious mechanical jack used for shifting logs by hand
tipsy cake: sponge cake mixed with sherry; sometimes called trifle cake
ton: an old measurement a bit lighter than a tonne
totara staples: large strong staples used in fencing
wireless: the old name for a radio
wowser: somebody who disapproves of anyone else having fun
First published in 2012 by Gecko Press
PO Box 9335, Marion Square, Wellington 6141, New Zealand
[email protected]
Distributed in the UK by Bounce! Sales & Marketing.
© Gecko Press 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted or utilised in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, including information storage and retrieval systems without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Text
© Jack Lasenby 2012
Cover illustration © David Elliot 2012
Gecko Press acknowledges the generous support of
National Library of New Zealand Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
Lasenby, Jack.
Uncle Trev and his whistling bull / by Jack Lasenby.
ISBN 978-1-877467-15-8 (pbk.)
[1. Farm life—Fiction. 2. Depressions—1929—Fiction.
3. Humorous stories—Fiction. 4. New Zealand—Fiction.]
I. Title.
NZ823.2—dc 22
Designed by Luke Kelly, Wellington, New Zealand
Printed by Everbest, China
For more curiously good books, visit www.geckopress.com
