Part 18 (1/2)

”It's a wonder the wonderful Jim Clay didn't say it,” muttered the irreverent representative of the degenerate rising generation _sotto voce_.

”'If that's the way you wash a table,' says she, 'no blind man would choose you for his wife,' for that was the way they told if their sweetheart was a good housekeeper, by feelin' along the table w'en they was done was.h.i.+n' up.”

”An' what did you say?” interestedly inquired Andrew.

”I didn't say nothink. In them days young people didn't be gabbing back to their elders w'en they was spoke to, but held their mag an'

done their work proper,” she crus.h.i.+ngly replied.

”But I was thinkin',” said Andrew quite unabashed, ”that you was a terrible fool to be took in with that yarn. For who'd want to be married by a blind man, an' I reckon that blind men oughtn't be let to marry at all, and I think anyhow he ought to have been glad to get any woman, without sneakin' around an' putting on airs about being particular,” he earnestly contended.

”But that ain't the point, anyhow,” said she.

”Well, what did you tell it to me for, grandma?”

”Hold your tongue,” said the old lady irately; ”sometimes you might argue with me, but there's reason in everythink, an' if you don't have that table scrubbed and cleaned proper by the next time I come round you'll hear about it.”

With this she walked farther on towards the pig-sty and cow-bails, and considering this a good opportunity for private conversation I went with her, remarking in a casual manner--

”Your granddaughter has a very good voice.”

”Yes; a good deal better than _some people_ that think they can sing like Patti, and set theirselves up about it.”

”Yes; but she badly needs training.”

”She sings twice as well as some that has been trained and fussed with.”

”Probably; but she requires training to preserve the voice. She produces it unnaturally, and in a few years the voice will be cracked and spoilt.”

”All the better, an' then she'll give up wanting to go on the stage with it.”

”Is there anything frightful in that?” I said gently. ”A great many mothers would give all they possessed to get their daughters on the stage. It is an exploded idea to think the stage a bad place.”

”A lot is always tellin' me that, an' I believed them till I went to see for meself, and the facts was too much of a eye-opener for me.

I'll keep to me own opinions for the future. It will be three years ago this month, Dawn prevailed upon me to go to a play there was a lot of blow about, an' I was never so ashamed in me life. I didn't expect much considerin' the way I was rared regardin' theayters, but it beat all I ever see.”

”What was it?”

”I don't know the name, but it was a character of a play. There was women in it must have been forty by the figure of them, and they had all their bosoms bare, and showed their knees in little short skirts.

They stood in rows and grinned--the hussies! They ought to have set down an' hid theirselves for shame! I thought we must have made a mistake and got into a fast show, but we read in the paper after that among the audience was all the big bugs, an' they seemed to be enjoyin' theirselves an' laughing as if it was a intellectual, respectable entertainment. I wanted to get up an' leave, but Dawn coaxed me an' I give in, an' thought the next might be better, but it was worse. I give you my word for it, there was hussies there on that stage, before respectable people's eyes, trying all they knew to make men be bad. They was fast pure and simple, just the same as some Jim Clay told me about once when he went to Sydney on his own. The way he described their carryin's on was just like them actresses on the stage, an' me a respectable married woman who's rared a family, havin'

paid to look at them! I was ashamed to hold me head up after it for a long time. 'It's only actin', grandma,' says Dawn, but to think that people would act things like that; no good modest woman would ever do it, an' the Bible strictly warns us to abstain from the appearance of evil. An' even that wasn't all; they come out an' kissed one another--married women supposed to be kissing other men. What sort of a example was that to be setting other men an' women? It was the lowerin'est thing I ever see. I told Dawn she was not to breathe where we had been, an' from that day to this I never would have a actor or a actress in my house. I'd just as soon have a _real_ loud woman as one who gets out on a stage where every one is lookin' at her and pretends to be one. She'd have no shame to stand between her and the bad. Oh no! there must be reason in everythink. I was prepared for a terrible lot of fools and rot, but that I should be so lowered was a eye-opener.”

”I feel exactly the same in regard to the stage, Mrs Clay, but I like concerts, when the singers just come out and sing--do you not?”

”That ain't so bad, I admit.”

”You would not object to Dawn singing on a platform, would you?”

”No; doesn't she often sing on the platform in Noonoon? They're always after her for some concert or another. It's a bad plan to sing too much for them. They don't thank you for it. They'd only say we're tired of him or her, and the one who'd be sour an' wouldn't sing often would be considered great.”