Laura Secord, the heroine of 1812 Part 26

ACT II.

SCENE 1--_A bedroom in a Toronto boarding-house_. KATE BLOGGS _in bed_.

_Enter boarding-house mistress_.

_Kate_. Yes, nursey, I'll be quick, but mind your words And looks, and do not make mistakes.

_Nurse_. Oh no, Miss Kate--or Mr. Christopher, As that's the name you've chose, I'll not mistake.

_Kate_. And always mind and keep my room, My time and liberty, intact, and so You'll make it easier for me to obtain By surrept.i.tious means, the rights I should Enjoy in happier sort.

_Nurse_. I'll do my best, Miss Kate.

[_Exit_ Nurse.

_Kate (in masculine attire, about to descend to the breakfast table, turns once more to the mirror)_. Oh, Harberton, Hadst thou but taught the world The beauty of thy new divided skirt Ere I was born, this had not now been thus.

This blush, that burns my cheek, had long been past; These trembling limbs, that blench so from the light, Had gotten strength to bear me manfully.

Oh for the mantling night, when city fathers save the gas, and Luna draws her veil!

[_She sits down on a box_.

Away, weak tears!

I must be brave and show myself a man, Nay, more, a student, rollicking and gay.

Would I could feel so! (_Sniffs at the air_.) Somebody smokes, And before breakfast; pah, the nasty things!

Would I could smoke! They say some women do; Drink toddy, too; and I do neither: That's not like a man; I'll have to learn.

But no! my soul revolts; I'll risk it.

Surely there are among a studious band Some who love temperance and G.o.dly life.

That's the crowd I'll join. They will not plunge into Those dreadful orgies that the _Globe_ describes, Of men half-tight with lager and old rye, Who waylay freshmen and immerse them in The flowing wave of Taddle, _Horrors! Why, I shall be a freshman!_ If they touch me I'll scream! ah--ha, I'll scream!

Scream, and betray my s.e.x? No, that won't do; At Rome I'll have to be a Roman; And, to escape that dread ordeal, I Shall cringe and crawl, and in the presence of A fourth year man step soft and bow, And smile if he but condescend to nod.

Oh, yes, I'll do't. In tableaux once I played Uriah Heep, and made the character So "'umble" and so crawly, that for days I loathed my hands, and slapped my fingers well For having knuckles.

Thus will I to the tyrant play the slave.

An old ant.i.thesis.

[_Some one calls at the door_.

Yes, yes, I'm coming, Hannah.

Now for that dreaded step yclept the first, Pray Heaven it may cost most; but that I doubt.

[_Descends to the breakfast table_.

ACT III.

SCENE 1.--_The same as Scene 2, Act I_.

MISS ORPHEA BLAGGS _solus, reading a letter_.

_Orphea (reading)_--

"My Dearest Orphea--Congratulate me! me, your cousin, Tom Christopher, M.A., Gold Medallist.--Mathematics, and also Natural Sciences; Honours in Cla.s.sics, and Prizeman in German again. You cannot think how queer I feel with all my blus.h.i.+ng honours thick upon me, and more to come.

Tuesday! my dear Orphea, Tuesday! Only think of it, Master of Arts, or more correctly Mistress of Arts! Now let the New Zealanders boast, and the Cambridge girls bite their tongues, Canada has caught them up! Ah, my dear Orphea, that is the drop of gall in the cup of your successful cousin--the Canterbury Antipodeans got their honours _first_. It reminds me of the saying that the nearer to church the farther from heaven, since it is evidently the nearer to the centre of civilization the farther from a University Degree, so far as we unfortunate women are concerned. But never mind! I've proved that Canadian girls are equal in mental power with Canadian boys, and I am only impatient to let the Dons know it.

"And now, my love, for the conclusion of the two years' farce. It has cost me a whole week's sleep to sketch a plan by which to declare my s.e.x in the most becoming manner to my fellow students.

"Do you know, dear, when I look back upon the pleasures of the past two years--how soon we forget the pain!--I am not inclined to regret the step rendered necessary by my devotion to my s.e.x, for use has made me quite at home in the--ah--divided skirt! How many lovely girls have I danced with through the rosy hours who will never more smile on me as they were wont to smile! How many flowers of rhetoric have been wasted on me by the irony of fate! How many _billets-doux_, so perfumed and pretty, lie in my desk addressed to my nether garment! And how many mammas have encouraged Mr. Christopher, who will forever taboo Miss Bloggs! And then the parties and the picnics! Ah, my dear Orphea, what do I not sacrifice on the altar of my s.e.x. But a truce to regrets.

"I am longing to see the elegant costume in which I shall appear before the astonished eyes of the mult.i.tude as Miss Bloggs, M.A.

"You know my style, the latest out, which I find by the fas.h.i.+on books is Mignonette trimmed with Chinese Pheasant. b.u.t.tons up the back of the sleeves, with rubies and amethysts. Let the fichu be Eidelweiss; trim the fan and slippers with the same, and use dandelions and calla lilies for the bouquets. Not a b.u.t.ton less than forty on the gloves, and don't forget my hair.

"Get yourself up to match by contrast, and come and help me make a sensation.

"The dinner is on the _tapis_. Webb will be caterer, Sells will supply the cider; Shapter and Jeffery the Zoedone, and I have entered into a contract with the Toronto Water Works for pure water on this occasion only. I have bought up every flower in Toronto, so that if the tariff does not prevent it, other folks will have to import their own roses; and I have engaged every boy in the public schools who has nothing better to do next Sat.u.r.day to go to Lome Park and bring back as many maiden-hairs as he can find. Ferns are my craze, as you know, and I am quite a crank on maiden-hair, which I mean to adopt for my crest with "If she will, she will," as a motto. Ever your own,

"KATE."

A merry letter truly.

I'll to the dressmaker.

ACT IV.

SCENE 1.--_A boarding-house dining-room richly decorated with flowers and plants. Twenty gentlemen, among whom is_ Mr. Tom Christopher, _each accompanying a lady, one of whom is_ Miss Blaggs. _The cloth is drawn, and dessert is on the table_.

_Mr. Biggs, B.A. (Tor. Univer.), on his feet_.

Ah--ladies and gentlemen, here's to our host, And rising, as thus, to propose him a toast, I think of the days which together In shade, and in suns.h.i.+ne, as chums we have pa.s.sed, In love, and esteem, that forever must last, Let happen what will to the weather.

In short, ladies and gentlemen, I have to propose the everlasting health and welfare of our host, who should have been our honoured guest but for that persistent pertinacity he exhibited in the matter, and which he does himself the injustice to call womanish. But I am sure, ladies and gentlemen, no one but himself ever accused our esteemed host of being womanish, and when we look upon the high standing he has achieved in our University, the honour he confers on his Alma Mater by his scholarly attainments and the gentlemanly character he has won among all sorts of students, I am sure, ladies and gentlemen, we should be doing great injustice to you all were we for one moment to admit that he could be other than he is, an honour to Toronto University, and a credit to his s.e.x. I am quite sure the ladies are at this moment envying the happy woman whom he will at no distant date probably distinguish with his regard, and it must be satisfactory to ourselves, gentlemen, to know that it lies in our power, as the inc.u.mbents of academic honours, to be able to bestow that reversion of them on those who, having all the world at their feet, need not sigh for the fugitive conquests that demand unceasing toil and an unlimited amount of gas or coal-oil. Ladies and gentlemen, I call upon you to fill your sparkling gla.s.ses to the honour of our host and college chum, Mr. Tom Christopher. And here's with a hip, hip, hooray! and hands all round!

_All_.--Hip, hip! Hurrah!

[_Tremendous cheering and clinking of gla.s.ses. Several are broken, and the excitement consequently subsides_.

_Mr. Tom Christopher_.--Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you much.

For these your loving words. A third year man, I came upon you fresh from nowhere; This in itself a warranty for cold And hard suspicion; but you received Me with some warmth, and made me one of you, Chaffed me, and sat on me, and lent me books.

And offered pipes, and made inquiries kind About my sisters; and Time, who takes Men kindly by the hand, made us warm friends, And knit us in a love all brotherly.