AN EVENING AT A GIRLS' CLUB.
I first made Belinda Ann's acquaintance at a social evening at a club
in Bethnal Green to which I had been invited by the lady who had
instituted it.
In my innocence and ignorance (for at that time I was unacquainted
with the manners and customs of the East End) I took my little roll
of music in my hand, thinking I should be expected to contribute to
the evening's entertainment; but on arrival I found that this was not
necessary, as the girls were quite capable of amusing themselves and us
too.
On certain occasions a fixed programme was arranged and carried out by
friends from the West End, but this happened to be an "off night," when
the members did pretty much as they pleased, my hostess leaving them to
their own devices entirely, and not interfering unless their spirits
threatened to get too boisterous.
As she truly said: "You cannot expect the same manners and etiquette
here that you find among Lady Clara Vere de Vere and her friends at
their aristocratic club near Grosvenor Square, but my girls have a
great sense of honour and chivalry, and a word from me is generally
sufficient."
The club-room was at the back of a large, old-fashioned house which at
one time, long, long ago, stood in its own extensive grounds in the
midst of a peaceful, rural neighbourhood.
Now it was hemmed in on all sides by streets and houses teeming with
life, and the only relic of its former grandeur left was a tiny piece
of ground in front.
Still, a certain air of aristocratic calm hung about it, and after my
recent long drive through the hot, crowded streets, I breathed a sigh
of relief when the front door closed behind me and I found myself in
the spacious entrance-hall.
I followed the neat maid-servant (herself an East Ender born and bred)
along this out into a little paved yard, which we crossed, and up a
flight of break-neck stairs into the club-room.
It was a long, narrow apartment, with a low platform at one end, and
the wooden walls were hung with gay-coloured bunting interspersed with
various flags, a few pictures from Christmas numbers, and some framed
texts.
Odd strips of carpet, matting and rugs, covered the floor and on these
stood small tables laden with magazines, books and games, while little
chairs stood here and there not in stiff rows but in conversational
attitudes, so to speak.
A fixed bench ran all round the walls, a piano (rather the worse for
wear inside and out) stood in one corner of the platform, and a few
plants in pots disguised by crinkled paper completed the furniture.
Judging from the noise that greeted me when I entered, the lungs of
Belinda Ann and her friends were in fairly good condition, and I felt
distinctly alarmed as I advanced, for they all turned and stared at
me with one consent, making frank and audible remarks on my personal
appearance and dress.
The room was crowded with girls, tall and short, dark and fair, fat and
thin, very few of whom were playing games or reading, but all of whom
were chattering as fast as their tongues would let them.
I was relieved when the lady who had invited me stepped forward to
shake hands and at once piloted me up the room (for she knew I wanted
to learn all I could about my East End sisters) whispering as she went,
"I'm going to introduce Belinda Ann to you. You'll find out all you
want to know from her," and next minute I found myself deposited next
a girl who surveyed me with a mixture of good-humoured contempt and
watchful suspicion.
The first was due to my small size, the second to a lurking conviction
that I wanted to patronise, or as she afterwards expressed it, "Come
the toff over her."
As soon as she found out I was far from wishing to do this, she became
more friendly, and assured my hostess that she'd take care of the
"lydy."
Belinda Ann was a head and shoulders taller than myself and broad in
proportion, although she was only eighteen. She possessed a quantity
of black hair which came down to her eyebrows in front in a thick,
straight fringe and was beautifully bright and clean. Brown eyes looked
fearlessly at you from under the fringe, and her whole manner was that
of a girl who, ever since she could walk, had had to fight for herself
and protect herself, and had done it too.
You couldn't imagine anyone taking a liberty with Belinda Ann, although
she was hail-fellow-well-met with everyone.
She might be a little rough in her manners, and not always too refined
in her speech, but Belinda Ann had a heart of gold, was as true as
steel to her friends, and thoroughly enjoyed life, taking the sweet
with the bitter, spending money royally when she had it, and cheerfully
going without when times were bad.
This evening she was attired in a peacock-blue cashmere and plush
dress, which had seen its best days, almost covered by a large apron,
not so clean as it had once been, and surmounted by a limp black straw
hat adorned with some dejected-looking black feathers without a vestige
of curl about them, and various dirty white flowers which flopped
aimlessly over the brim.
I noticed that her boots were strong and good, and that near her lay
a thick, handsome shawl, and in time I learnt that these two items of
dress rank next in importance to the famous feathers, and that every
true East Ender insists on having them of the best quality, and pays a
good price for them.
Belinda Ann, meanwhile, having exhausted her interest in me, was
turning to exchange "chaff" with her other neighbour, when, with an
inward gasp, I plunged boldly into conversation.
"Do you come here every evening?" I asked.
"Depends!" was the abrupt answer, given in an off-hand, defiant sort
of way which characterised her manner with strangers. "P'raps I do an'
p'raps I don't!" and her look so plainly added, "What's it to you?"
that I refrained from pursuing the subject.
"You all seem very lively," I hazarded next, with a look round.
"So you'd be to get a chance to do somethin' beside work!" was the
fierce reply.
This made a capital opening to the question I was longing to lead up
to, namely, "What do you do all day?"
"Oh, I'm engyged in chemistry," was the proud reply, accompanied by a
visible swelling of her whole person.
"Chemistry!" I ejaculated, rather awe-struck at finding her so clever.
"'Ere, don't you believe 'er!" struck in a fair, florid girl next her
on the other side. "She's bluffin' yer! She only sticks the lybels on
the bottles at the cord-liver oil factry over the wy."
Whereupon Belinda Ann, with perfect good-humour, made a grab at the
other's hat and a friendly little tussle ensued, accompanied by shrieks
of laughter and a brisk interchange of chaff.
As soon as this interlude was over and they had once more settled down,
I took up the thread of conversation again.
"And are all these girls engaged in sticking----I mean, in the
chemistry?" I inquired.
"No," she retorted; "some's jam an' some's pickles, but the jams are
a low lot!" and the air of inexpressible scorn with which she said it
would not have disgraced a West End beauty alluding to another, "who is
not in our set, my dear."
I began to think my hostess had made a mistake in assigning me to
Belinda Ann, as the latter seemed more disposed to snub me than
anything else, and I was rather relieved when the piano struck up and
the girls began to dance.
There were no men present, but this did not at all interfere with their
happiness, and I sat lost in amazement at their extraordinary agility
and wonderful steps.
Belinda Ann (or as I heard her friends call her, Blinderann) was in no
wise behind the others, and sprang hither and thither with the best.
My hostess sank into a seat beside me and murmured apologetically--
"I let them do this to work off a little of their exuberant spirits,
for they would never sit still a whole evening, and would fight
probably if they had no other outlet. Some nights, if there is any
specially good concert or entertainment, I allow each girl to bring
one male relative or friend, but oddly enough they don't often avail
themselves of the permission. On an informal evening like this, when
there are only girls, I don't think a little physical exercise does
them any harm, and it tires them out so that they will listen to
anything I have to say to them afterwards. If I drew the rein too
tight, they would all disperse to the four winds and I should never get
hold of them again."
I agreed, and presently seeing a girl leaning up against the wall, I
plucked up courage and asked her if she would care to have me as a
partner.
She seemed slightly surprised, but consented graciously, and we took a
few turns together.
I flattered myself I had got on fairly well, and felt so elated at my
success that by-and-by I sought Belinda Ann, who was fanning herself
vigorously with her hat, and requested the pleasure.
[Illustration: ENVY.]
Her answer rather stunned me.
"No, thank'ee. I've been watchin' yer an' your style won't do fer me!"
Before I had time to reply she was off again, taking part in some
very pretty figures in which narrow coloured ribbons were plaited and
unplaited as the girls holding the ends moved hither and thither.
As soon as everyone was thoroughly tired and disposed to sit quiet for
half an hour or so, a girl (a stranger from the West End like myself)
was asked by the hostess to play something, and accordingly, thinking
as I should have done, that they preferred lively tunes, sat down and
began to rattle off some "catchy" popular airs.
She was unceremoniously stopped by Belinda Ann--
"'Ere, we don't want that rot!"
"Oh," mildly replied the unfortunate pianist, not quite knowing what to
say; "I thought you liked variety?"
"No, we don't," retorted the other, misunderstanding her and thinking
she meant the music hall close by; "the V'riety costs tuppence an' we
can't 'ford it."
"Well, what would you like?" was the inquiry.
"Give us 'We are rout on the ocean syling,' or 'God be with you till
we meet agyne,'" and this request being complied with, these favourite
hymns were shouted out at the top of their voices, Belinda Ann's in
particular being like a clarion.
After this a diversion was created by one of the "pickles" volunteering
a recitation which she gave with a good deal of dramatic power;
then another girl sang a little song, and Belinda Ann followed with
a second, and so the evening wore away to its close; but I felt
dissatisfied, for I seemed no nearer attaining my object than before.
Taking the opportunity, I forcibly detained Belinda Ann as she was
drifting by, and diffidently observed--
"You've told me what you work at, but how do you amuse yourself?"
"'Ow? There ain't much difficulty 'bout that!" she returned scornfully.
"There's this sort o' thing, an' bank 'ollerdys, an' weddins, an'
funerals, an' launchin' ships, an'-----"
"I wish you'd let me go with you to some of these!" I eagerly
interrupted.
She looked dubiously at me for a minute, thinking I was joking, but
seeing I was in earnest, remarked casually--
"Well, I don't mind ef I do, but it's a bit rough sometimes fer the
likes o' you."
"Oh, I sha'n't mind," I joyfully replied. "When can I begin?"
"A friend o' mine's goin' to be married the dy after ter-morrer," she
said graciously. "I could get yer an invite, if yer liked."
"Do!" was my ecstatic response. "Where shall we meet?"
"'Ere," she returned. "Yer can't go wanderin' about these streets by
yerself, an' it wouldn't do fer your grand friends to see me a-knockin'
at your door!"
I was trying in vain to assure her that she was quite wrong, when
she suddenly rammed her hat viciously down on her head, slung her
shawl round her like a woollen whirlwind, and with the brief remark,
"G'night," was gone. I also soon afterwards took my leave, having first
told my hostess about the proposed expedition.
She looked a little anxious, but her face cleared when she heard that
Belinda Ann was coming with me.
"That's all right," she observed, with a sigh of relief. "She's to be
trusted to see that you come to no harm; but don't leave her for a
minute, and don't wear jewellery or carry much money."
I promised, and went home full of anticipation at the idea of the new
world about to open before my delighted eyes.
(_To be continued._)
QUEENS AS NEEDLEWOMEN.
BY EMMA BREWER.