Some Everyday Folk and Dawn - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel Some Everyday Folk and Dawn Part 13 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
Many members of parliament, having risen to their position from coal-heaving or hotel-keeping, when going on the war-path a second time, take great pains to get themselves _up_ in accordance with their idea of the dignity of their office. Many old fellows, roaring "Gimme your votes, I'm the only bloke to save the country and see you git yer rights," dress this modest _role_ in a long-tailed satin-faced frock-coat, a good thing in the trouser line, and a stylish b.u.t.ton-hole; but Leslie Walker, one of the champagne set, had made equally palpable efforts to dress himself _down_ to his present _debut_.
For sure! his suit, which comprised an alpaca coat with a crumpled tail, must have been the shabbiest he had, while the glistening new white sailor hat had probably been procured at the last moment in the vain imagination that, dress as he would, it was not evident at a first glance that he had had the bread-and-b.u.t.ter problem solved for him by a provident parent before his birth, and that he had lived what is designated the cultured life, far and autocratically above sympathy with the vulgar and despised herds, upon whose sweat his cla.s.s build the pretty villas fronting the harbour, charge haughtily along the roads in automobiles, and sail the graceful yachts on the idyllic waters of Port Jackson.
"By Jove! Les. has different ambitions from mine," said Ernest. "I'd rather have to stand up to a mill with the champion pug. than face what he's on for to-night. Doesn't he look a case in that get up?
Supposing he gets in, what the devil good will it do then, and it takes such crawling to get into parliament nowadays. There are too many at the game. I could never face the way one has to flatter some of these old creatures for their vote. I'd rather plug them under the jaw."
Mr Oscar Lawyer having introduced the speaker, he came forward, and after explaining it was his first appearance in politics, charmingly proceeded, "I hope I shall not bore you with my remarks as I endeavour to outline the various planks in the platform of the party to which I have the honour to belong."
Quite superfluous for him to explain that he was a new chum in politics. Only a fledgling from a Brussels or Axminster carpeted reception-room would stand on the hustings and publish a fear that he might be boring his audience. One familiar with the trade of electioneering, as it has always been conducted by men, would strut and shout and brag, never for a moment worrying whether or not he came anywhere near the truth or feeling the slightest qualm, though he deafened his hearers with his trumpeting or bored them to complete extinction, and would refuse to be silenced even by "eggs of great antiquity."
"Les. ought to stick to society," observed his step-brother; "flipping around a drawing-room and making all the girls think they were equally in the running was more in his line."
"He's a nice, clean, good-looking young fellow at any rate, and doesn't look as if he gorged himself--hasn't that red-faced, stuffed look," said Dawn. "If I had a vote I'd give it to him just for that, as I'm sick of these red-nosed old members of parliament with corporations."
"He's the real lah-de-dah Johnny, isn't he?" laughed "Dora" Eweword.
"Don't you say he's any relation of mine," said Ernest. "It would give me away, and he thinks I'm in Melbourne. I told every one that's where I was bound. I hope he won't catch sight of me."
There was little fear of this; one has to be accustomed to facing a crowd before they can distinguish faces.
After the meeting, which dispersed early, Ernest and I hurried out into the galvanised iron-walled yard, in which those coming from a distance put their horses and vehicles.
Having noted the disconsolate manner in which a pair of dark eyes below a thatch of generous hue surrept.i.tiously glanced towards a tormentatious maiden with ribbons of blue matching her eyes and fluttering on her bosom, I thought it time to come to his rescue.
"If you would care to talk to your friend, he can drive you home while I walk with 'Dora'; he says he has something to say to me," said Dawn in an aside.
"Are you sure you want to hear it?" I asked.
"How could I tell until I hear it?"
"That is not a fair answer, Dawn."
"Well, it wasn't a fair question," she pouted.
"Very well, I will not press you more, but you'll tell me of it after, will you not?"
"Well, what would you like me to do?" she asked.
"Oh, I'd like you to be naughty. Mr _Dora's_ complacence inspires me to inveigle him into having to drive me home while you walk with some one else."
"Very well, anything for fun," she responded with dancing eyes; and as Ernest had the horse in I got into the sulky and said--
"There is room for three here, Mr Eweword, and we would be glad of you to put the horse out when we get home."
He took the reins and a seat, and moved aside to make room for the loitering Dawn, but she said--
"No, I'll walk; I must keep Carry company, and she doesn't want to come just yet."
"Drive on," I commanded, and there was nothing for the entrapped "Dora" to do but obey.
I saw Carry go on with another escort. "Will you permit me to see you to your gate?" I heard Ernest saying as we went, and Dawn a.s.serting that it was unnecessary.
It was a beautiful starry night, with a prospect of a slight frost, as we turned down the tree-lined streets of the friendly old town, whose folk on their homeward way dawdled in knots to discuss the interposition of the women's vote.
"Now the women will do strokes," said one.
"The men have things in such a jolly muddle it will take a long time to improve them," another retorted.
"The women will make bloomin' fools of themselves!"
"Couldn't be worse than the men!"
"The women'll all go for this chap because he's good-looking."
"Just as good a reason as going for another because he shouted grog for you," and similar remarks, drifted to my ears, but "Dora's" mind did not seem to be running on politics.
"Who was that red-headed fellow sitting the other side of you?" he inquired.
"Which one?"
"A short block of a fellow with a clean face."
"Oh, he's a man I know."
"Pretty cool of us leaving Dawn. The old dame won't like it."
"She won't mind, considering Dawn has about the most reliable escort procurable."
"I suppose it's all right if you know him, but to me he looked like a bagman or bike-rider or something in the spieler line."
"Oh no," and pulling my boa about me I smiled to think of the chagrin of Dora. He was so beautifully transparent too, but to do him justice did not seem to resent the scurvy trick I had played him, as soon his equanimity was restored, and we laboured cheerfully but unavailingly to promote a conversation.
"Do you really like farming--take a pleasure in it?" I inquired.
"When I'm knocking a decent amount of money out of it I do. There's not much fun in anything when it doesn't pay."
"Quite true."
"There might be a frost to-night, but they're nothing here--always disappear as soon as the sun is up. Great Scott! aren't these roads?
The council want stuffing in the Noonoon. It would be an all right place only for the roads."
This brought us to Clay's gate, and no further conversational effort was necessary. I lingered outside till Eweword had disposed of the pony and trap, and by that time Ernest and Dawn, bearing evidence of quick walking, appeared, and we went into grandma and Uncle Jake in a body.
"The women are going to form a committee to work for Mr Walker if he's selected," announced Dawn, "and I want to join it, grandma. I am not old enough to vote, but I'd like to work for Mr Walker. He looks worth a vote. He's nice and thin, and speaks beautifully without shouting and roaring,--not like these old beer-swipers who buy their votes with drink."
"He is a decent-looking fellow," said Eweword.
"Oh, well, he'll go in then; that's all the women will care about,"