LIFE IN A COUNTRY TOWN

Evening Star, Issue 20633, 5 November 1930, Page 6

LIFE IN A COUNTRY TOWN

THE CLIQUES India has its castes and our town has its cliques (writes N.F.S., in tho Melbourne ‘ Age Just as the Hindu will not associate with anyone of an inferior caste, so our folk—tho women in particular—ignore all cliques save their own. Bet me describe our cliques. The men first:— Tho golf clique loiters in Main street when other men are toiling for their daily bread. Plus fours, bags of clubs, cigarettes, and much raucous laughter over feeble jokes of the links. The bowling clique consists of elderly business men who at the tail end of the afternoon dodge their debts and wives and roll their bowls across the green, and during the intervals have a drink or two or twelve. The gambling clique stays up till morning seven times a week playing poker. It balances things by losing to-night what it won last night. The boozing clique, to whom a saloon bar is a magnet, is constantly changing, as its members soon depart to take up new homes—in tho cemetery. The intellectual clique is small but precious. It looks with contempt on all the other cliques. . Every Monday night it meets in tho Mechanics’ Institute and discusses economics and philosophy, and—other things. It is very serious and but ribald scoffers call it The Brainy Push. Then there are the cliurcn cliques. It’s dangerous to say much about them, further than that they are tho most powerful of all, and dominate the destinies of our institutions.

Social cliquism does not go very far among the men. Any evidence of snobbery brings jeering ridicule and sometimes a kindly meant poke in the eye. Our bachelors met to arrange about a ball. When a certain name was mentioned aristocratic Cutbbert blurted out: “ Not liiml He’s no class!” From that day tho appearance of Cutbbert in the street would be greeted with yells of “No class! No class! No class!”

.Cutbbert tried to laugh it down. Then to light it down 1 Then to live it down, it was no good. He had to leave tho town.

But among the women things are quite different. First, there is the clique known to itself as The Right People. The womenfolk of the nearby sheep stations, the lawyers’ wives, the bank managers’ wives.

Ah! The Right People! A royal court is not more exclusive than The Right People. No woman whose husband is connected with—er—er—trade can ever hope to enter the exalted, undeliled circle of The Right People. When a public ball is being organised The Right People descends from its lofty pedestal and fraternises with the storekeepers’ wives—especially the wealthy storekeepers’ wives. But when the function is over The Right People is charmingly cool and distant once more.

Thereby it causes many tears and much gnashing of teeth. Though, of course, the children ot The Right People never go to the common State school, still it likes to act the part of My Lady Bountiful. Sad to say, its benevolent interest is not appreciated. Our Mothers’ Club supplies milk and biscuits to the infants during the winter months. When The Right People desired to lend the benefit of its patronage it was curtly told that the Mothers’ Club was not a charitable institution. By the baker’s wifel What insolence 1

When Tho Right People goes to Melbourne it does not enjoy itself. It is always glad to return to the dear home town, wnere it knows it is appreciated —by Tho Right People. And now for the other cliques. Tho Croquet Clique plays that abstruse game, drinks much afternoon tea, ana talks scandal, until husbands lean over the fence find bawl: “Say, old girl! What about coming home and cooking my tea?” There’s tho clique that culls’ itself f’he Younger Sot. it is composed of tho girls who servo in the shops, and .ts hobby is dancing. Tho Right People looks down its aristocratic nose at the bold minxes. But The Younger Set is winsome and delicious, lovely as flowers and sweet as honey. Sometimes there is a terrible flutter in the dovecotes when a. wise son of The Right People marries below him one of the dainty blossoms of Tho Younger Set. The Younger Set is exclusive. Girls worKing in food shops and factories are taboo, and the lads in the garages are what Cuthbert’s enemies call “ No Class 1”

Once there was a Bridge Clique. But now all cliques play bridge. And a weird variety of bridge it is, with what golf players call “local rules.” In one group, if three players pass tho fourth must call no trumps. At another, if a player lias no card higher than a nine she has the right to call for a new deal. Uno lady told me she did not play very often—“ very rarely more than twice u day.” There is one more clique to be mentioned—Tho Back Fence clique. When the old man has gone to work and the children to school this clique meets in pairs at the back fence and talks. Didn’t Mrs Snooks have an awful hat at church last night, and wasn’t the schoolmaster very drunk on Saturday night, and young Mrs do Vcro needn’t put on such airs. What was she before she married? And poor Mrs Brown! And her last one is not twelve months old yeti And so on and so on.

But despite the frailties and follies of the cliques, their hearts are sound. When the hour of trial comes, then vanish all distinctions of creed, or class, of position. Forgotten are all the jealousies, the snobberies, tho pettiness. The whole town unites and stands shoulder to shoulder, a big family of sisters and brothers, a noble example of devotion to a cause. What is this occasion? I’ll tell you. It is when our football team is playing tho final match for the district premiership. My word!