"MY FATHER'S LEGACY."
OME years ago I was on the staff, of a Sydney daily. Occasionally I visited Herman* Dakler's wine bar, and at. that attractive and picturesque den of iniquity I one night found a bright locking woman, of about 2iVsittinsr at a .little! round 'marble table by herself, her ii'eshjface half buried m her expensive sable |collai- ; and the upper portion lest m ashaclowy dusk of warm gossamer. She twirled a ruby-tinted glass between her fore-finger and thumb and was, obyiously orf the. look-out for an adventure,''.• •■'/#'.' ; So; was £> : - 'Sitting -dp^vTi at the .table 'I hailed Herman »l>ekler, and the greasy cosmopolitan; rolled up, took th c Inn g pipe, • with < • the ' Jjliie; < sHai|ijeless goddesses round its ■«.-. . \'cKmaj3o.wl ? ;! froin his uiouth, and inquired, %^ ' ; iv * ;-'^\';''in v l}rdlc(^vEn3gl^h',; ; >yhat. choice Australian W*' ; . , }'■. . -,wive we would like:xQ, cb"ink. I'tfrS^red'a -borne of chabliij, and nfade i up any mind to »sk Hit ?ady plftKe-skbles f to share it. with me. ,1 "Wheri Dokler . broiigiit the •wine itiwak;<j)lta tray with two gksses;vand^anticirfating:-iny 'inquiry, said, sententiDiisly : " It is; der. grade gu^ is; same.% as ; : der Ootr^biii'l/aw^i.when you order der bpddftP.t'o;jre4uest' der lady at ider tal)]o-dei:niipin..'V : '^ • ; :.- .".:•■•.•,{;.. .:■''■' -?^''' r '•:'•;-". , : '/^': Th^' |i^^ade»a^^eppmg<bow^ Spated^av^ayj^ou <a • terrifip^blast • of- smoke l- f r*dm' r tfie ; iVi decent *G§rmaß • pipe. '^••- •■'■.; ; p" : ' ■ ■'■■ .'■:'•. <; vl'--. ■■"'•-'•' - ;< :.. : ' 'T l -' '* ' .■■^'• ; '" '' •■' Ijlboked after I , hinii lat3y.tlaug|ied, and broke^ the ice. *'That's_Avlv.it\'TemL^ foreign grace,'" she said, as l/fin^d'her'.glasr aud^pro'ducect' cigarettes. She took one; yn& clinked^^ gla^es/andjlitoipr-'lieai-.in'g between two clouds' of sceittjed smoke/ for the cigarettesiwefe Russian, she mqujrejjj ""Why on learth d^you, '' t - ■•• ' V - ' obvicfnsly ait^ JSiiglishm^n ■■■■ . of thalJEnglishj (^e^tiere \to drink at a German -Tvirie.' ". . shop?:' :.: :■: .•"•■■?^V:.T';' v - ; •■/^ : . :■ " . "Mydear lady, why do joui bb- %^ ;. v .viously^nbt a-noctonieinle^cpF' '* !v *- ■ "^ ; ' ' ' : - > ' here to drink, at aH| y / ; ' , j
AN o c t v m c .
But the young lady only puffed at her cigarette, drank deeply of the chablis, ; looked steadfastly at the veiled pornography on the wall with eyes that saw it not. I waited a seoond, then hastened to change the subject, but the lady of the sables interrupted me. "You are quite right; I'M not a bad woman— in fact. I'm one of the best. I come here because none of my circle would dream, even m their • drunkenest moments, of, seeing me, : here.... And there's a taint m niy blood— my father's legacy, 1 suppose — and I love to sit with my feet stretched out: I love to smoke cigarettes and -, drink m the varied tints- of ■, ribaldry while I sip my -vvifie. > This is real uuartificial life. : ;>Vliat I get m my highly respectable home is an artificial product. . The people 1 meet here are. men and women, , and the bond between them is sex. The ones I meet at home are lad-;, ies and ■ gentlemen— -mere tailors' mpjiels and ■ fashion-plates — ; and the bond between -them is vanity r and the love -, of flattery, and it fnakes me feel' bad. J> ■ \'lj think it *unwise to give way to such tas^os-rconsider the risk?*' I gasped^-^istoundcd at j the woman's veheratrncc. J She laughed ratlier harshly. M "Men should ;be ! careful what JH instincts they cultivate if-™ there's any chance of their having daughters born to them.' 5 "By Jove, I Ihiiik girls should be careful what instincts they give' way to for the sake of their fathers' reputations.' 3 k ~."My troubles about my father?'
reputation.*. My ancestors never considered- me. I'm the victim of their morality. 3 * • "Their immorality, . you mean?" ■ ; * "No; I mean their morality — one or more of my progenitors mortified the flesh, subdued the devil, and worked up a glorious reputation on the strength of it. But all his repressed desires smouldered and gathered strength to make themselves felt m v future .-generation. I'M that -gen- , oration. He should, have exhausted,those passions: if he had he would have been a happier man, and my .vorldry position would have been more secure to-day. I simply can't repress these vicious instincts— because my progenitor shut down the safety-valve, and nowthe repressed energy is" too strong for, the valve — I'm the valve.*' -f" "Well^ can't your, husband * tell you --risque stories; can't you smoke cigarettes on his kueo,and ; have a high oldlPurkish time m youi* own home by your o\vif % fireside?" . . •f,.-,, ;; ,-^v v * ■ •';•-; A:»?sp of moon poured r a dim, ohablis-tinted: ' light over that vvastaraphitljeatre we call the Cen-! tennial'Piirk. We found a/seat at the fdptjpifW. column' surmounted by. a nak^d woman holding-out, her amis; m welcome jiq the tired, dusty city. rße-j fore us waved a bananaitrccj'the water of the "afti ; iicial lake : on:thTee sides of lis, and a soit, Avliisper- ' ing breeze scattered^the Shifts of perfume thrfojgh' i^Tthe wuie-tmt^^atmo^here. *Tlic grass around Us iV^ 1 ?. j? n S, and lit yj^ayed'' and sighqd. Th c woman s sfipp^l*:o^thc sesaj," and;r<4led.^uxuripusly,'on it. "YouV'cJress will ;be? covered* with" grass seeds, and y^.ur;nris^a''wiirwoiMie^ a Siniday-scliool mpbnliglit picnic ?"•■ f< KQ, -f caiv it^s giace silk, arid^von't take, the ,. grass seeds. f * mi ' : :■>-•.;- .r ;
' ■ . ■■■'■■■■ ■•■ : ' *•- ' ■• .*■ I slipped down beside her, and we lay there with o.;iv amSfinder •nir heads, looking up at the naked marble woman an# the gating stars. I was called back 'from an atmosphere of singing s%f and drifting apple blossom by the unsown woman taking my fac<|pi her hands ar.d rubbing- her f orclieaa against mine. Her voice low and earnest, and slio.tolu a tale of go.rgeousausety-^t^'^y^ hus< land of Darling Point. . ■' '■* v'\r:'p I kissed her through the veil of soft, silky hair that hung around the face that was blurred with tears. J felt sorry for this* woman who had gambled so desperately and drawn so splendid misery, and m the wealth ci" my pity there was soniethiug of love, "Bq ha^yy for this hour, at least, ITI give you youthful zest, moonlight imstoy' and romance — — -~\ ./'< .;.■* '\ . » •■:.'.;•. "iVnd the hot kisses of fervent youth ! }? she whispered. as the passionate embrace tightened. " , J The - moonlight flashed, her silky hair drifted across my faces and — the rpll of carriage wlieels called us back to lif e^again. The infernal cab had returned. I handed her inland she shivered and* drew her sable , trimmed cloak closer aroußd ;v iier- I ha^fci her out close to Darling roint. near by a big house aU^litteriu^a^^V lights kndlfroni which the guests were stxeamiiig o«|C J^/r^ l^ IJt^fssW her hand, and she vanished through a swMfat^into a shrubl|rv% 1 turned to the cabman (I was liviug pr^fous close to Darling Point myself) and tasked, *' How much.r : - :.'V \^ "A^ov'rin^r^ 1 /' v \ ' '""'^ ;"\ I lalmost yelled!, v |/ \ ''''*% quid, sir! bii'./the lady^s a toff, sir, The Centennial's always a .quid. sirj A itVther trade price, sir; then wo stands to yer in thepiypToe Court;'*;; f i ' :Tf conformed jto the trade-custom, paid him his soy^rin, and went home *apd;tQought: hard. •' I'.^s^dbiM^^ the /-^ater Police Court two years later r and as they xan % thro\if fi ythesjdruni^.. thq .beak paused m pained surprise. u Prye I lookect up and there, - \^^ " m rags, bfeary-ey^d and y-r v> r ■ ; -'-^ .: = '■■ bloated withVdrmk, totter- '^ } v " ■ ; jMr *te» H> ' ed m sordid^deshabille the "^^ #^ woman of the chafcUs^mt'.Jr-" i cd Moonlight m -ftio Centonnial '.'•ii*i;,", ; ■'& ■ Park. - V;\.'- : ■ ■, i;: -"^ :^|''' ' • v^Js^%jdney,ithis^sLife--A '■ ■ "** 4 a **t»,-<wac side ofi^ • •
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZTR19131210.2.6
Bibliographic details
NZ Truth, Issue 442, 10 December 1913, Page 4
Word Count
1,191"MY FATHER'S LEGACY." NZ Truth, Issue 442, 10 December 1913, Page 4
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