The Amazing Escapades of Margaret Bale part 2

HOW I FIRST CAME TO BE IN AUSTRALIA.

Will you first of all imagine me seated comfortably at a cozy breakfast table in a typical English house on a winter morning? Outside everything is covered with snow — a world of grey and white, relieved only by specks of a red-breasted robin, and the grim trunks of trees in the park. It’s better you should guess how old I was. Already I had been governess to a Bishop’s family for two years, and still, I was a girl. Does it matter that I had never been out of England before? The new countries, South Africa, Canada, Australia. It was Spain, Italy, or France I longed to see. I did not like the thought of having to hustle in the colonial fashion. You see I had been so long accustomed to the systematic smoothness of old-world life. I am afraid I have not the spirit, of the pioneer. I had finished mv breakfast and sat looking out of the window in a contemplative mood.
My thoughts turned to the prospects of the fourth advertisement I had inserted in the ‘Church Gazette.’ The previous three had left me still unattached, sometimes the children were too young, or perhaps I did not like the parents, the engagement was too ephemeral, or the salary too slender. It is so difficult to obtain a congenial post. The reverie was disturbed by the sight of a welcome postman. Yes, there was a letter for me. Would I call at the Orphanage of Mercy in Kilburn? Of course, I would, and did, with as little delay as possible. We lived some little distance from London, you must know. As I journeyed I made many mental speculations. In all of them, I was wrong. I arrived at my destination and I found that the Sisters of St. John’s High School, Kalgoorlie, Western Australia, had a mission for me, and I agreed to fulfill it. It meant hustledom maybe, but it also meant appointment and seeing something new and different, which was the desideratum of the somewhat ambitious Margaret Bale. When my parents learned that I had accepted a three years engagement I found myself,

as the Australians say, ‘up against it,

in this case, a strong parental opposition. However, I had given my bond to the ladies whom I met at Kilburn, and the word of a Bale, is sacred. Behold me, on the 22nd December in the year 1906, a passenger on the White Star liner Persic, outward bound for Australia, carrying with me the blessings, and other more material tokens of the affection and esteem of the Bale family.

SS Persic

My hunger, however, overcame all scruples, and in I went. What will you have, boy? shouted a waiter in my ear, as I was taking stock of my fellows. Oh-er-yes-steak and onions, I blurted out, though why, I don’t know, as that was not at all what I felt like. “Right oh, whiskers,” responded the waiter, whereupon I felt my chin instinctively, thinking it might be as dirty as my hands. I did not know whether to be a rough boy and drop my “H’s,” or an ordinary boy.
The latter course seemed best, so I took off my hat carelessly and hung it on a peg. After the steak and onions had been brought, and I had pretended to eat, I noticed hanging up on the wall a sign, “Board and Lodgings,” so after tea, I booked a room for a week. I was shown to the room. It was very small but clean. How glad I was to be alone. I washed and found myself to be already a sunburnt boy, with very unruly hair. It had been execrably cut. I made some notes in my diary, got into my sleeping suit—You did not think I had forgotten that!—and, tired out, was soon fast asleep. My first complete day as Martin Able was an uneventful one. In the morning I made the acquaintance of a Mr. and Mrs. Clarke and their daughter, who were staying in the house, and accompanied them on a visit to the pier.

Now I began to think seriously. It occurred to me that an unknown ordinary boy who was not working and yet had money might be regarded with suspicion. I concluded that the sooner I found employment the less noticeable I should be. I scanned the advertisements in the newspapers, but there was nothing for me. You may be surprised to know that I had the sum of £64 9s 11d in my possession, but the fact was not at all cheering to me, and on the day before Christmas Day, I felt very lonely and rather disconsolate. I couldn’t have any real Christmas Eve feelings under my new circumstances. In the evening, however, I went out with Esteban (the Spanish waiter at the restaurant) and his friends, whose intentions I quickly learned were to make a convivial night of it, so I slipped away when they went into the Fremantle Hotel and returned home. By this time I had about got over the qualms of conscience incidental to the burial of Margaret Bale and had perfect control of myself as Martin Able.

As I was a methodical youth, I tried to take the precaution of securing a room in Perth before I left Fremantle. I found the task a difficult one. House rent was, as I soon discovered, much higher in Perth than in Fremantle and I found it impossible to get a single furnished room to myself for 5s per week. I could get one for 7s a week, but being an impecunious youth, and not knowing from whence my next shilling would come I decided it would be unwise to yield to this tempting offer, so with a heavy heart, I put the temptation from me and left the house to continue my search. I was tired and hungry (for I had been going without food so I could have the wherewithal to pay my fare), and longed for my quest to come to an end. There was only one house, out of the many I entered that seemed at all suitable to me, this was number 218 William street, and at the time of which I write, the landlady was a Mrs. James (an old lady, who had seen better days). No one can tell what a relief it was to meet her after the frouzy, slatternly, half stupefied, or coarse women I had encountered. “Oh!” I said to myself “if I have to share a room with 50 men, I’ll stay, here!!”

So I inquired if there was a room to let, and finding that there was, I asked to see it. The house was badly in need of renovation, and the room into which I was shown was so mean and ill-furnished that I mentally concluded it would never suit me. “What is the rent?” I asked, trying to conceal my bewilderment. “Five shillings,” reputed Mrs. James. Five shillings! my spirits rose considerably. At last, I had found a room that was only 5s per week, but then, how poor it was, and besides there were two beds. “Oh, no,” I said to myself, “no one occupies the other bed; no one would come here, the place is much too mean, anyhow I will ask. “Does anyone share the room?” I enquired; “Oh, yes,” replied Mrs. James, “you won’t be lonely, and besides, I have one or two other lodgers in the house.” It was not the thought of being lonely that I minded, it was the fact that I should once more have to share a room that worried me. “But,” said I, “I wanted a room to myself. Have you not a single room?” “I am afraid I have not” replied Mrs. James, “but the young fellow who has this room is very quiet, and I think you would get on very well together. See,” she said, “that is his photograph,” and pointed to a picture on the wall. I crossed the room and had a look at it. The man was a steward. “What does he do?” I asked. “Oh, he cooks,” replied Mrs. James. He is a chef at the Esplanade Hotel. Do you know he gets £5 a week?” I wished I got £5 a week, it was no comfort to me to know that a man got £5 when I would only get a few shillings as Margaret Bale. Surely there must be better rooms than this for 5s, I thought. Why at Mrs. Raymond’s I had a nice little apartment all to myself for that. So thanking Mrs. James for showing me the room I told her I would take it if I could not get anything more suitable, and wishing her “good morning,” I resumed my pilgrimage. I need hardly tell you that I was not successful in getting a room. At one house I was informed that they did not take in clerks or “fancy chaps.”

At another, I was told that my roommate (should I decide to engage the room) was a thorough gentleman (as I could see tor myself by looking at the fine clothes he wore), and a real good fellow when he gets his pay. “Works on the sewerage, my lad, “Haven’t you another room,” I asked. Well, yes, unwillingly assented the good lady, but if a room like this won’t suit you, I don’t know what will.” She led the way into another room. At first sight, it appeared to be crowded with beds. Oh, I gasped, it’s just like a dormitory. “Yes sir, said the approving landlady, that’s just what it is like—a dormitory, and really comfortable it is, and then, look at the mates you’ll have. “the mates” did not tempt me. I know I had said, in my desperation, that I would share a room with fifty men, but when it came to the point of sharing it with six others or even one, I found myself strangely disinclined to do so. “Haven’t you a single room?” I said at last. “No,” said the landlady” single rooms don’t pay. What do you expect to give for a single room?” Five shillings,” I answered. “Five shillings,” she repeated, “goodness, me, boy, you don’t expect to get a room for 5s do you?” “Yes,” I replied, “I had a very nice little room in Fremantle for five shillings.” “Well,” she said contemptuously, “you might get a room in a place like Fremantle for 5s, but you cannot get one in the city for that, let me tell you”. “Not being desirous of having the sewerage gentleman’s company, nor yet of joining the mates in the “dormitory,” I decided not to take a room. The lady was very indignant and thought me decidedly “stuck up,” for she called her husband, and after a whispered conference, he told me that I need not be afraid to take one of the rooms, as he did not take anyone if he thought there was anything “crook” about them. I explained that I was not afraid of the people, but that I wanted a single room so apologising for the trouble I had given, I wished them “good afternoon,” and departed.

As you may have already concluded, I had to return to Mrs. James, and very glad I was to do so. I engaged the room and paid a week’s rent in advance. On my return to Fremantle, I packed up my belongings. I felt a very lone youth all that afternoon and was quite glad when the evening came. After depositing my luggage in my room, I went into the town and had a look at the shop windows, but it was a cold night, and I did not stay out long, and I went back to my room. I now had time to examine my abode. There were about five different patterns of paper on the walls, all of which were more or less faded, a small piece of linoleum and two odd strips of carpet on the floor, one chair, two beds, and a very small table, on which was placed a looking glass. There was no washstand, basin, or ewer in the room, therefore, when one wanted to wash, it was necessary to go to the bathroom and use a “general” tin bowl, which was placed there for that purpose. This worried me very much, because I am so fussy after other persons, in case they have eczema or any other complaint.

I had not been at home very long before my future companion returned from work. On his arrival, he went into the sitting room, and Mrs. James called me in to make his acquaintance. I remember I was disappointed in seeing him, he looked much older than he did in his photograph and also very worried and tired. He was a Dane, tall, and dark, and rather thin, about twenty-eight years of age I should think. He spoke good English, but with a slightly foreign
accent, but I mentally decided I should like him, as there was nothing coarse or repulsive about him. I was not mistaken in my judgment of him, for I found him to be a thoroughly nice man. I saw very little of him, however, as he left the house at about 6.30 in the morning, and did not very often return much before eleven at night. I afterward heard that his mother was in a very delicate state of health and that he worked hard to help her. Sometimes the poor fellow was so tired that he simply got out of his clothes, just as a snake casts its skin, and left them in a heap in the middle of the floor, not even troubling to throw them on the chair, or his bed. I course I did not see this performance, but whenever I woke and saw his clothes in a heap on the floor I knew he had had an exceptionally hard day’s work.

Although I envied this man for getting £5 a week, I felt very sorry for him. He seemed to get so little pleasure out of life. All he appeared to do was to work, sleep, and eat (when he had the time, and his only recreation was an occasional cigar. I once asked him if he did not find his life monotonous, and his reply was, “No, I am too busy to notice it. Besides I get good money and have health, so I have not such a bad time after all.” He never grumbled and was never out of temper, and I was quite sorry when he awoke me one morning to tell me he was leaving and to wish me goodbye. His mother, it appeared, was taking a house in Perth, and he naturally wished to be with her. Mrs. James was vexed at his departure and I was sorry because I feared the arrival of another companion who might not be so agreeable.
In my quest for suitable employment, I commenced hunting the “West Australian” for something to do. I eagerly scanned the column headed “Situations Vacant,” but found nothing to suit me. Much disappointed, I had to spend that day “loafing” around Perth. I did this for several days, but without avail. “This will never do,” I said to myself. “I simply must get work. I don’t care whether it be suitable or unsuitable I can’t idle my time away in this manner,” so saying I once more took up the paper and went over the advertisements. Several people, I noticed, wanted office boys but then I was too big for an office boy. That would not do. Men for clearing and cutting sleepers were in fair request, but, as I was quite unable to clear land or cut sleepers, I decided it would be useless to answer these advertisements. This state of things went on for more than a week, and I was beginning to despair. Day after day I hunted the papers for employment, only to be disappointed. At last, I said to myself, “I don’t care whether I will be too old for an office boy or not, I will answer every advertisement I see.” Accordingly, I went round to every office where a boy was required.
As might be expected, I was too old, and also too “superior,” as many of my desired employers told me. This surprised me very much. I certainly thought that a superior boy would have been preferred to an ordinary urchin. I had been almost two weeks in Perth when I saw in the “West” that a gentleman living at Highgate Hill required a gardener.

Being very fond of gardening I thought I would undertake the work. Not knowing the street I asked a policeman if he could tell me where it was. “Oh!” he said with a smile, “going to walk it?” “Yes, sir,” I replied. “I shouldn’t my lad, it’s much too far. Why it’s right at Highgate Hill. The best thing you can do is to take the tram. I thanked him for the information, and, went my way. I can’t afford to waste 3d on a tram fare, I thought Then I remembered that by walking I might lose the position by being too late, so took the tram (although I had only 6d in my possession) and decided to walk back. I had no difficulty in finding the road or the house. When I arrived I stated my business to the maid, who answered my knock, she seemed very surprised at seeing such a neat youth, and said, ‘I will tell the master, sir he is not up yet, but perhaps you could wait.’ No sooner had she gone back into the house than I perceived several pairs of eyes looking at me over the kitchen blind. I was somewhat embarrassed at finding myself the subject of so many eyes and was greatly relieved to hear the old gentleman’s footsteps coming down the verandah. he took one look at me and said that he wanted a strong man for the brought work in the garden, so I went away disappointed.