for nothing if
that was all there was ’n a nexhibition, and there was a small scene caused by a little girl who refused to pay anything at all, and yet insisted on accompanying them in spite of
William’s stern remonstrances, and finally followed in the wake of the party howling indignantly, ‘I’m not a cheat. You’re a cheat – you narsy ole black
boy an’ I won’ give you a penny an’ I will come to your narsy old show, so there! Boo-hoo-hoo-hoo!’
William shepherded his small flock through the hole in the hedge. Then he took his stand behind a little piece of wood on which were ranged pieces of half-dry plasticine tortured into strange
shapes. With a dramatic gesture William flung aside his piece of sacking and stood revealed in an old pale blue bathing costume that had belonged to his sister Ethel in her childhood.
‘Now you can look at me first,’ he said in a deep unnatural voice. ‘I’m a native of South Africa dressed in native coschume an’ this here is native orn’ments
made by me an’ you can buy the orn’ments for a penny each,’ he added not very hopefully.
‘Yes,’ said the tallest boy, ‘an’ we can do without buyin’ ’em equ’ly well.’
‘Yes, an’ I’d jus’ as soon you din’ buy ’em,’ said William proudly but untruthfully, ‘ ’cause they’re worth more’n a
penny an’ I’ll very likely get a shillin’ each for ’em before the exhibition’s over.’
‘Huh!’ said the boy scornfully. ‘Well, wot’s next? ’S not worth a penny so far.’
‘ ’F it’d been worth a penny so far,’ said William, ‘d’you think I’d’v let you see it all for a penny? Why don’ you try to
talk sense ?’
The small girl at the tail of the procession was still sobbing indignantly.
‘I’m not a cheat. Boo -hoo-hoo an’ I won’t give the narsy boy my Sat’day penny. I won’t . I wanter buy sweeties wiv it an’ I’m not a cheat, boo-hoo-hoo!’
‘A’ right ,’ said the goaded William. ‘You’re not then an’ don’t then an’ shut up.’
‘You’re being very wude to me,’ said the young pessimist with a fresh wail.
Beyond William were three other sacking-shrouded figures, each behind a piece of wood on which were displayed small objects.
‘Now I’m a guide,’ said William returning to his hoarse, unnatural voice. ‘This way please ladies an’ gentlemen an’ we’d all be grateful if the lady
would kin’ly shut up.’ This remark occasioned a fresh outburst of angry sobs on the part of the aggrieved lady. ‘This,’ taking off the first sackcloth with a flourish and
revealing Ginger dressed in an old tapestry curtain, the exposed parts of his person plentifully smeared with moist boot blacking, ‘this is a native of Australia, and these are native wooden
orn’ments made by him. Talk Australian, Native.’
The confinement under the sacking had been an austere one and the day was hot and streams of perspiration mingling with the blacking gave Ginger’s countenance a mottled look. Before him
were wooden objects roughly cut into shapes that might have represented almost anything. As examples of art they belonged decidedly to the primitive school.
‘Go on, Ging— Native, I mean. Talk Australian,’ commanded William.
‘Monkey, donkey, fluky, tim-tim,’ said Ginger, ‘an’ crumbs , isn’t it hot?’
‘Call that Australian?’ said the audience indignantly.
‘Well,’ said William loftily, ‘he’s nat’rally learnt a bit of English comin’ over here.’ Then, taking up one of the unrecognisable wooden shapes and
handing it to the little girl: ‘Here, you can have that if you’ll shut up an’ it’s worth ever so much, I can tell you. It’s valu’ble.’
She took it, beaming with smiles through her tears.
‘I ’spect some of you’d like to buy some?’ said William.
‘TALK AUSTRALIAN!’ COMMANDED WILLIAM. ‘MONKEY, FLUKY, TIM-TIM,’ SAID GINGER. ‘CALL THAT AUSTRALIAN?’ SAID THE AUDIENCE
that was all there was ’n a nexhibition, and there was a small scene caused by a little girl who refused to pay anything at all, and yet insisted on accompanying them in spite of
William’s stern remonstrances, and finally followed in the wake of the party howling indignantly, ‘I’m not a cheat. You’re a cheat – you narsy ole black
boy an’ I won’ give you a penny an’ I will come to your narsy old show, so there! Boo-hoo-hoo-hoo!’
William shepherded his small flock through the hole in the hedge. Then he took his stand behind a little piece of wood on which were ranged pieces of half-dry plasticine tortured into strange
shapes. With a dramatic gesture William flung aside his piece of sacking and stood revealed in an old pale blue bathing costume that had belonged to his sister Ethel in her childhood.
‘Now you can look at me first,’ he said in a deep unnatural voice. ‘I’m a native of South Africa dressed in native coschume an’ this here is native orn’ments
made by me an’ you can buy the orn’ments for a penny each,’ he added not very hopefully.
‘Yes,’ said the tallest boy, ‘an’ we can do without buyin’ ’em equ’ly well.’
‘Yes, an’ I’d jus’ as soon you din’ buy ’em,’ said William proudly but untruthfully, ‘ ’cause they’re worth more’n a
penny an’ I’ll very likely get a shillin’ each for ’em before the exhibition’s over.’
‘Huh!’ said the boy scornfully. ‘Well, wot’s next? ’S not worth a penny so far.’
‘ ’F it’d been worth a penny so far,’ said William, ‘d’you think I’d’v let you see it all for a penny? Why don’ you try to
talk sense ?’
The small girl at the tail of the procession was still sobbing indignantly.
‘I’m not a cheat. Boo -hoo-hoo an’ I won’t give the narsy boy my Sat’day penny. I won’t . I wanter buy sweeties wiv it an’ I’m not a cheat, boo-hoo-hoo!’
‘A’ right ,’ said the goaded William. ‘You’re not then an’ don’t then an’ shut up.’
‘You’re being very wude to me,’ said the young pessimist with a fresh wail.
Beyond William were three other sacking-shrouded figures, each behind a piece of wood on which were displayed small objects.
‘Now I’m a guide,’ said William returning to his hoarse, unnatural voice. ‘This way please ladies an’ gentlemen an’ we’d all be grateful if the lady
would kin’ly shut up.’ This remark occasioned a fresh outburst of angry sobs on the part of the aggrieved lady. ‘This,’ taking off the first sackcloth with a flourish and
revealing Ginger dressed in an old tapestry curtain, the exposed parts of his person plentifully smeared with moist boot blacking, ‘this is a native of Australia, and these are native wooden
orn’ments made by him. Talk Australian, Native.’
The confinement under the sacking had been an austere one and the day was hot and streams of perspiration mingling with the blacking gave Ginger’s countenance a mottled look. Before him
were wooden objects roughly cut into shapes that might have represented almost anything. As examples of art they belonged decidedly to the primitive school.
‘Go on, Ging— Native, I mean. Talk Australian,’ commanded William.
‘Monkey, donkey, fluky, tim-tim,’ said Ginger, ‘an’ crumbs , isn’t it hot?’
‘Call that Australian?’ said the audience indignantly.
‘Well,’ said William loftily, ‘he’s nat’rally learnt a bit of English comin’ over here.’ Then, taking up one of the unrecognisable wooden shapes and
handing it to the little girl: ‘Here, you can have that if you’ll shut up an’ it’s worth ever so much, I can tell you. It’s valu’ble.’
She took it, beaming with smiles through her tears.
‘I ’spect some of you’d like to buy some?’ said William.
‘TALK AUSTRALIAN!’ COMMANDED WILLIAM. ‘MONKEY, FLUKY, TIM-TIM,’ SAID GINGER. ‘CALL THAT AUSTRALIAN?’ SAID THE AUDIENCE
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