Mrs. Bindle: Some Incidents from the Domestic Life of the Bindles

by Herbert George Jenkins

I

"Gospel bells, gospel bells, hm-hm-hm-hm-hm-hm-hm."

Mrs. Bindle accompanied her favourite hymn with bangs from the flat-iron as she strove to coax one of Bindle's shirts to smoothness.

She invariably worked to the tune of "Gospel Bells." Of the hymn itself she possessed two words, "gospel" and "bells"; but the tune was hers to the most insignificant semi-quaver, and an unlimited supply of "hms" did the rest.

Turning the shirt at the word "gospel," she brought the iron down full in the middle of what, judging from the power she put into the stroke, might have been Bindle's back.

"Bells," she sang with emphasis, and proceeded to trail off into the "hms."

With Mrs. Bindle, singing reflected her mood. When indignation or anger gripped her soul, "Gospel Bells" was rendered with a vigour that penetrated to Mrs. Grimps and Mrs. Sawney.

Then, as her mood mellowed, so would the tune soften, almost dying away until, possibly, a stray thought of Bindle brought about a crescendo passage, capable of being developed into full forte, brass-wind and tympani.

After one of these full-throated passages, the thought of her brother-in-law, Mr. Hearty, mellowed the stream of melody passing through her thin, slightly parted lips.

It had reached an almost caressing softness, when a knock at the door caused her to stop suddenly. A moment later, the iron was banged upon the rest, and she glanced down at her apron. To use her own phrase, she was the "pink of neatness."