“Maist weemen start it withoot meanin’ ony hairm, maybe wi’ a table-centre, or a lamp-shade, or a pair o’ bedroom slippers. There’s no’ much wrang wi’ that; but it’s a beginnin’, and the habit grows on them till they’re scoorin’ the country lookin’ for a chance to contribute whit they ca’ work to kirk bazaars and ony ither kinds o’ bazaars that’s handy. It mak’s my hert sair sometimes to see weel-put-on weemen wi’ men o’ their ain and dacent faimilies, comin’ hame through back-streets staggerin’ wi’ parcels o’ remnants for dressin’ dolls or makin’ cushions wi’. They’ll hide it frae their men as long as they can, and then, when they’re found oot, they’ll brazen it oot and deny that it’s ony great hairm.
“That’s wan way the trouble shows itsel’.
“There’s ither weemen—maistly younger and no’ mairried—that’s dyin’ for a chance to be assistant stall-keepers, and wear white keps and aiprons, jist like tablemaids.
“That’s the kind I’m feared for, and I’m nae chicken.
“When they see a man come into the bazaar and nae wife wi’ him to tak’ care o’ him, they come swoopin’ doon on him, gie him ony amount o’ deck, jist in fun, and ripe his pooches before he can button his jaicket.
“I’m no’ sayin’ they put their hands in his pooches, but jist as bad; they look that nice, and sae fond o’ his tie and the way he has o’ wearin’ his moustache, that he’s kittley doon to the soles o’ his feet, and wad buy a steam road-roller frae them if he had the money for’t. But they’re no’ sellin’ steam road-rollers, the craturs! They’re sellin’ shillin’ dolls at twa-and-six that can open and shut their een, and say ‘Maw’ and ‘Paw.’ They’re sellin’ carpet slippers, or bonny wee bunches o’ flooers, or raffle tickets for a rale heliotrope Persian cat. It’s the flyest game I ken. When that puir sowl gets oot o’ the place wi’ naething in his pooches but his hands, and a dazed look in his een, the only thing he can mind is that she said her name was Maud, and that her hair was crimp, and that she didna put a preen in his coat-lapelle when she was puttin’ the shillin’ rose there, because she said a preen wad cut love. She said that to every customer she had for her flooers that day, wi’ a quick look up in their face, and then droppin’ her eyes confused like, and her face red, and a’ the time, her, as like as no’, engaged to a man in India.
“I wonder hoo it wad dae to hae a man’s bazaar? They ocht to have made the Freemason’s bazaar a man’s yin, seein’ the Freemasons ‘ll no tell the weemen their secrets nor let them into their lodges.
“A man’s bazaar wad be a rale divert: naethin’ to be sold in’t but things for use, like meerschaum pipes, and kahootchy collars, and sox the richt size, and chairs, and tables, and concertinas—everything guaranteed to be made by men and them tryin’.
“The stalls wad be kept by a’ the baronets that could be scraped thegither and could be trusted withoot cash registers, and the stall assistants wad be the pick o’ the best-lookin’ men in the toon—if ye could get them sober enough. If Jinnet wad let me, I wad be willin’ to gie a hand mysel’; for though I’ve a flet fit I’ve a warm hert, I’m tellin’ ye.
“I think I see Duffy walkin’ roond the St Andrew’s Hall, and it got up to look like the Fall o’ Babylon, tryin’ to sell bunches o’ flooers. Dae ye think he wad sell mony to the young chaps like whit Maud riped? Nae fears! He wad hae to tak’ every customer oot and stand him a drink afore he wad get a flooer aff his hands.