Some Everyday Folk and Dawn | Page 3

it is an angel in this case," I responded, for though she was
thickly veiled she suggested youth and a style that pleased the eye.
Whether she and the boats were sufficient to make Clay's an attractive
place of residence I did not know, but already was painfully aware of
conditions that would make Jimmeny's Hotel an uncomfortable location.
I retired to my room to escape some of them--the foul language of the

tipplers under the front verandah, and the winds from two streets that
also met there in a whirlwind of dust and refuse.
There was nothing for me to do but kill time, and no way of killing it
but by simple endurance. I had been ordered to some country resort for
the good of my health. But do not fear, reader; this is not to be a
compilation of ills and pulses, for no one more than the unfortunate
victim of such is so painfully aware of their lack of interest to the
community at large. There are, I admit, some invalids who find a
certain amount of entertainment in inflicting a list of their aches upon
people, blissfully unconscious of how wearisome they can be, but my
temperament is of the sensitive order, knowing its length too well to
similarly transgress.
How I had struck upon Noonoon I don't know or care, except that it
was within easy access of the metropolis, and I have no predilection for
being isolated from the crowded haunts of my fellows. I had descended
upon Jimmeny's Hotel because in an advertisement sheet it was put
down as the leading house of accommodation in Noonoon. Now I had
come to hear of Clay's and Dawn, and determined to shift myself there
as soon as possible. This did not seem imminent, for presently the
"bloated aristocrat" came back to Jimmeny's pub. for the evening meal,
as he had been unable to get so much as a shake-down at Clay's. This
so aroused my desire to be a boarder at Clay's that I straightway wrote a
letter to its châtelaine inquiring what style of accommodation she
provided, and could she accommodate me; and strolling up the broken
street, while a few larrikins at corners, by way of entertaining
themselves and me, made remarks upon my appearance, I dropped it in
the post-office, but had to endure a week's inattention at Jimmeny's,
and no end of yarns from outside folk I encountered as to how Mrs
Jimmeny robbed the "swipes" who took their poison at her bar, before I
was honoured by a reply from Mrs Clay.
"The accommodation provided by me for people is clean and
wholesome and the best as suits me. If it don't suit them there are other
places near that makes more efforts to gather custom than I do. I can't
take you in at present as I'm too full for my taste as it is.--Yours

respectfully,
"Martha Clay."
This interesting rebuff inspired me to further effort, and sitting on the
back verandah, under a giant fig-tree shedding its delicious and
wholesome fruit also to the fowls and ants, I wrote:--
"Dear Madam,--Would you kindly apprise me when it would be
convenient to accommodate me, as I'm anxious to be near the river,
where I could indulge in boating?"
To this I received reply:--
"There isn't any chance of me accommodating you till the cool weather,
and then I don't take boarders at all. I like to have them all in the
summer, and then have a little peace to ourselves in the winter without
strangers, for the best of them have their noses poked everywhere they
are not wanted. If you want to go near the river there are heaps of
houses where there isn't no such rush of people as at my place."
This firmly determined me to reside at Mrs Clay's, a desired member of
the household, or perish in the attempt. Alack! I had plenty time to
spend in such a trifle, for I was but a derelict, broken in fierce struggle
and hopelessly cast aside into smooth waters, safe from the stormy
currents now too strong for my timbers. That I had means to lie at
anchor in some genial boarding-house, instead of being dependent upon
charity, was undoubtedly food for thankfulness, and when one has
burned their coal-heap to ashes they are grateful for an occasional
charcoal among the cinders.
No other place near the river but Clay's would do me, though the valley
had much to recommend it at that season, when grapes, peaches, and
other fruits were literally being thrown away on every hand. So I
repacked my trunk, and the 'busman who had brought me took me once
more along the execrable streets, past the corner pub., near the railway
station, and,