(_Not held at Nottingham._)
SCENE--_The garish but unsavoury "Saloon Bar" of a "South-side
Pub." A group of "Daughters of Toil" sipping and gossiping._
_Laundress_ (_throwing down newspaper_). Wot's this 'ere National
Union of Women Workers there's so much cackle about?
_Step Girl_ (_sullenly_). Dunno, I'm sure. _We_'re not in it, anyhow.
_Workman's Wife._ Ho no! _We_ ain't women workers, I suppose, _we_
ain't!
_Laundress._ Then I should like ter know where they find 'em. (_Sips
"white satin" and sniffs._)
_Shop Girl_ (_to Sempstress_). 'Ere Miss MIVVINS, you're no hand of
a scholard, and know all erbout everythink. Wot _is_ this Nottingham
Goose Fair, anyhow?
_Sempstress._ Well, it is not a goose fair, exactly EMMA--not in the
sense of the old song, at any rate. Seems to me it's a meeting of
ladies of title, who don't know what work is, to talk about women of
no title who have to do it. (_Sighs._) But I suppose they mean well,
poor dears.
_Young Machinist_ (_pallid and cramped_). Well, Miss MIVVINS, no doubt
as they do. But oh dear me, what good are they going to do the likes
of us? My knees crackle, my back aches, and my head swims. Thanks,
yes, I don't mind if I do. (_Drinks._) Ah! that warms and straightens
one out a bit! But if, as you say, these ladies don't know what work
is, one of 'em should do _my_ little bit at the warehouse for a week.
_Laundress._ Ah! or mine, at the wash-tub.
_Workman's Wife._ Or mine at the wash-tub _and_ all over the shop as
well, as I 'olds is the 'ardest of all, seeing as how it ain't _never_
done.
_Sempstress_ (_mildly_). Ah, yes; but you have _your_ husband and
children for company, whereas I----Oh, the long, dreary loneliness of
it!
_Tailoress._ Lookee 'ere, Liz, don't you talk about the old man being
_cumpny_, not till you know wot sich "cumpny" is. _You_ never got
a black heye like this; and do you 'appen to know 'ow a kick from a
'obnailed 'ighlow feels in the ribs?
_Sempstress_ (_gently_). Well, no, my poor soul; and perhaps I'm
ungrateful to grumble.
_Flower Mounter._ Yes; but what might these topping Nottingham
Lydy-Workers talk about when they _do_ meet?
_Sempstress._ Well, you see----
_Laundress._ 'Old 'ard a minnit, LIZ. Before you begin, let's drink
up and 'ave another all round. Torkin' 's dry work, as I dessay the
Nottingham spouters found it.
[_They toss off, and replenish._
_Sempstress_ (_continuing_). Well, I see, one of their papers is on
"The Ethics of Work."
_Step Girl._ Lor! wot's that, Miss MIVVINS?
_Sempstress_ (_hesitating_). Well--you see--I suppose it means the
_morals_ of work, or something o' that.
_Laundress._ _Morals_ of work! Might as well talk o' the morals of
misery while you 're erbout it. The less I 'ave to do, the better I
like it--that's _my_ moral.
_Shop Girl._ Not much morals about work nowadays, SARAH, if _I_'m any
judge. Piling up work and cutting down prices, with the halternative
of the streets if yer strikes--that's about the "morals" of _our_
firm. And if you torked to our Boss about these 'ere Nottingham
notions, _'e_'d "moral" you!
_Semptress._ Another lady, I see, with _such_ a pretty, poetic-like
sort of name, talks about "The Responsibility of Refinement."
_Workman's Wife._ Ah, well, we ain't got none, so that can't consarn
us, can it?
_Shop Girl_ (_tartly_). I say, you speak for yerself, Mother MATTHEWS.
Of course, that means refinement in _dress_, and--well we don't _all_
wear a pancake 'at with a 'aporth o' green feathers dobbed on to it!
(_Sniffs, and adjusts her own "high-up" hat with ambitious "hortridge"
plumes._)
_Workman's Wife_ (_sharply_). Now look you 'ere, Miss STUCKUP, if I
'adn't more "refinement" in my little finger than wot you 'ave in
your 'ole five foot nothink, my old man 'ud swop me off for a ragman's
black doll, 'e would, so there!
_Voice from the Bar._ Now then lydies, a _leetle_ less noise there
_if_ you please!
_Sempstress._ I see here's another talks of "Home Life," and another
of the "Morals of Money Spending."
_Workman's Wife._ Haw! haw! haw! Morals o' money spending, indeed! If
these 'ere torky lydies 'ad got as little money to spend as _we_ 'ave,
and as many mouths to fill with it, 'tisn't the _morals_ on it as 'ud
trouble 'em. When the wealthy 'uns begin to patter of morals to us
poor trash, they mostly mean _meanness_, I reckon.
_Young Machinist._ Right you are, Mrs. MATTHEWS!
_Sempstress_ (_sadly_). And as to "Home Life,"--ah! how many of them
know that to some of us it only means a painful "Home _Death_?"
_Laundress._ Oh, come, I sy, Miss MIVVENS, you'll give us all
the 'orrors if you tork like that! While there's life--_and_
liquor--there's 'ope, _I_ sez. So let's 'ave another kind love all
round, and then we must see about----
_Sempstress._ "Home Life" and the "Ethics of Work" again, as the
"Women Workers" say at Nottingham.
_Workman's Wife._ But not in the New Cut--no fear!
_Voice from the Bar._ Now then, time, gentlemen, please!
_Exeunt._
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