FESTIVE HAYS

Evening Star, Issue 19186, 1 March 1926, Page 4

FESTIVE HAYS

MRS REILLY DISCOURSES | [ Written by tor the ‘Evening Star.’] Mrs Reilly sighed. “Sure, ’tis tired I am; Dan sez L ‘ ’Tis the pace that kills,’ an’ I believe it. “ First ’twas beds an’ breakfasts, then sheep-dog trials, an’ wood-choppin’ on’ treasure hunts, wid ‘ Floradora ’ an’ ‘ Terpsichore ’ an’ rollin’ for choco- ' lates in betwecfy, till I’m not the ’ woman I was, so* I’m not. Only lasht ’ week there were the American athletes, lor I’m bound to go, seem’ that I won a married ladies’ race wanst, ' years ago. (’Twas bo a fluke I won, 1 I’ll admit; but 1 ran it fair an’ square, not knowin’ ’twas a false start, an’ they cheered an’ laffed till I broke the tape an’ found I had it be mcself, the orders bangin’ back for a fresh start. I was too breathless to run again, so they give mo the prize an’ had another race.) “Thim’s the boys to run. Ye could pick them, dressed up in flannel picjamays an’ runnin’ up an’ down, trained to the mi nit. Ye’d think they couldn’t be bothered wid the race, they were so keen on joggin’ an’ dancing’ about. ’Twas great to see them cornin’ through in their heats, rale machines to run, an’ calculatin’ machines at that, for they .enow to a second when to spurt an’ win. After a while 1 see wan or two of the officials give a jog or so, an’ thin another of thim give a little ran, an’ 1 declare if ’twasn’t catchin’, for they all seemed to get that Kruschon leelin’ that the Yankees have, an’ if they had to move at all, ’twas at a trot or a run. I nivor saw the like before, an’, thinks ], ‘I wonder how long will it lasht, but, believe mo or not, they kop it up til! the end, more power to thim, though some of thim would bo glad ol a lie in on Sunday morning. The only other excitement was the ladies’ race, an’ I. was proud of the hunch of young girls—a healthy, spick-an’-span lot. ’Twould do your heart good to see thim run, an’ a nuggety little wan wid black bootees on shot out an’ just got it. “ Dan says I’m gettin’ the Exhibition habit, for I like to finish up the week be goin’ on Saturday nights on’ havin’ a peep at the Art Gallery. Wo wint ns visual, but ’twas tamo after tbo sports, an’ I felt kind of reckless, so I put Gd on the rabbits, but mine stuck, an’ that was the hid of that. “Bed an’ breakfast is great for seeiu’ everything. The last lot made mo go wid them on Sunday to point out the view from the bus. * We stud for forty minutes tryin’ our best to get on won of thim, an’ might be there yet only wan couple was disappointed at not gettin’ a front seat an’ got nut, an’ wo jumped at the chance an’ had a beautiful trip. ’Twas to Mount Cargill, an’ I’ll never forgot the view from the top of the hill; whichever way ye looked ’twas lovely, an’ wo wint into the Brown House, that is wan big room of chairs an’, little tables built round a big chimney that faces ivory way. There was a row of motors bo the side of the road, an’ the place was chock-a-block of all sorts, of tourists like ourselves, an’ lots of ordinary people wid motors of their own. Tbo tea was so nine and the drive homo so fine that 1 declare when we got to town I didn’t feel like goin’ borne. Well, on top of that come the chance to hear Clara Butt, an’, though I was gain’ the pace ns ’twas, I couldn’t I'6fuse; they were that pressin’ an’ seemed rale anxious for my company, so 1 give in an’ wint. “ Such a qneuey I niver saw in my lifo (Cor Eve only taken to high life since bed an’ breakfast came in). It reached along for near a block, an’ whin it bad disappeared the half of it was left at the door, an’ no more room for anywan. Did yo ever hear of such a tiling? Mo heart was in me boots, an ’ try as we might to get in anywhere, ’twasn’t‘to be done, bein’ all booked up. Well, we hung about for a while, for we couldn’t think to go home, an’ the money in me band was bnrniu’ a hole in me pocket, whin we see a man in evenin’ dress come an’ spake to the man in the box office. He says he’ll find room for a few, an’ I shoves in- to be wan of thim. “Thinks I, patience a’ perseverance will git their reward, an’ they did. 1 Come this way,’ sez an usher, an’ we followed him t ill he opened a door, an’ I hung back, like a Christian martyr from the arena, for that is what it seemed' at first sight—a crowded theatre, with hundreds of voices huz/.in’ an’ laflin’, and we poor mortals ushered into the glare from the darkness outside. 1 nearly turned an’ ran, hut ‘ This way, please!’ in front, an’ a push from behind, an’ there we wore right in front of the stage, in the orchestra well. What’s this that Dan says? ‘ Some are born great, an’ some have greatness thrust on thim,' an’ t hat was us an’ no mistake. Fancy sittin’where Urn piano and all the rest of the or-, ehestra is! Where Slapolfski has conducted from, where—but a man comes out an’ fixes the piano on the stage, an’ a lady comes out an’ plays wan piece after another somethin’ wonderful, thin a man sings, an’ ye hear ivory word, an’ he gets encored, an’ thin comes herself. “ Snob a tall lady, an’ dressed lovely, wid a crown or a tiary on her head, an’ joolry an’ rings, an’ a silk dress all wound round her to fit exactly right. Straight as a poplar, too, she was, an’ smiled right down at us quite friendly, so she did, “Then she sang; ’twas wonderful; all sorts of songs, sad an’ gay, an’ ivory word, ns plain; it sank into mo heart, an’ 1 forgot where I was an’ everything else hut what she sang. 'Twas like that, the whole evenin’. When she sang a hymn ye were in church: when she sang nf the poor fishermen we were at homo waitin’ for thim, God help (him. Ah! well, ’tis well to see an’ hear while we can. “ I’ll have to ho gettin’ along an’ get Dan’s hit of dinner ready, for lie’s flown at the fire brigades carnival, I declare, how the time flies, an’ I believe there’s another poster ball soon. Well, well! I must bo off.’’