‘Do you like being an actress, and wearing all those bright dresses, and singing for people who applaud and praise you?’
‘O no, lady; I hate the life,’ she replied; ‘and the audience are cross often, if they don’t like the piece and what we do; and then I get frightened. Then father sings a comic song, and they all mostly like that.’
‘How do you manage to take the tent, its fittings, and your wardrobe about from place to place?’
‘We have a big wagon as holds everything, and the horse and the donkey they draw it. Then father hires a car for us, and another for the company, and we travel from village to village that way. We go to the towns in winter. Our theatre is well known; and in some places we make six pounds, and maybe seven or eight, in one night. Other times we might only take—as we’ve done here—ten shillings. We never go in debt,’ she added. ‘Mother sells our wardrobe when we are very poor, and then she asks kind ladies to help us by giving us their old clothes. Anything does for the stage so long as it’s bright. Once mother got a dress from a lady all over silver stars, and she wore it when she is the Queen. I doesn’t mean she is a real queen, but one in the play. But that’s worn out now,’ she added sadly.
‘I must be going now,’ Mary said, getting up; ‘and I’m very thankful entirely, lady. Maybe you would send the servants to-morrow night to the theatre, for Jim is having his benefit. We don’t have any real ladies come, or I’d be real glad to see you,’ she concluded ingenuously.
Accordingly, I sent the servants; and from them I heard that the theatre was the most wretched place imaginable. A small tent, in many places broken and saturated with rain, which had been falling heavily, was pitched in the principal street in the village. A few forms served as reserved seats; whilst those who could not afford this luxury, stood in groups behind. The stage was raised some three or four feet from the ground by means of some barrels, on which long planks of wood were arranged in rows to form a platform. A few candles placed along the edge of it served for footlights; whilst large gaudy ‘cuts,’ representing some specially attractive character in the several plays acted, formed the scenery, as Mary had stated; and on the occasion in question, when singing and dancing were the only entertainments provided, the audience were asked if they wished to come upon the stage and dance an Irish jig or horn-pipe. One man accepted the invitation, and danced both so well and with such a will, amusing the people so effectually, that fully half an hour’s respite was enjoyed by the tired, weary company of the travelling theatre.
INDIAN SERVANTS.
A somewhat widespread opinion prevails in this country that our Anglo-Indian friends, with their handsome rupee-reckoned salaries, are in the habit of living more than comfortably, if not luxuriously, in the far East. But, in reality, whatever may have been the case formerly, in what were called ‘the good old times,’ this is not so nowadays; and we should remember that what in England may justly be considered to be a luxury, in a tropical climate like India often becomes a necessity. Our countrymen now—unlike their predecessors, who lived like princes, spent their money freely, and made India their home—wisely adopt the opposite course, and look forward to the time when they may retire on a pension, and pass the remainder of their days in old England.
Perhaps the chief cause which has given rise to the erroneous impression above referred to is the number of native servants which the young Anglo-Indian usually entertains on first taking up his appointment in the Civil Service, the military profession, or other line of business, as the case may be. His mother and sisters are astonished to learn by the first letter received from Jack or Harry—fresh from school, and perhaps hardly out of his teens—that already he has enlisted into his service no fewer than seven or eight attendants; and not comprehending the rights of the case, are apt to moralise on youthful extravagance. This, however, is a mistake on their part, which we will endeavour to explain, at the same time offering a few remarks, for the benefit of our countrymen daily leaving our shores for India, on native servants in general, their duties, peculiarities, and the best way of treating them to meet with success. But before taking them individually, it is with regret we feel compelled to allude to a practice not unfrequently indulged in by the young and thoughtless, of constantly using native terms of abuse to their attendants for the most trivial faults. This is a habit much to be deprecated. The natives of India are extraordinary judges of character, and quickly lose all respect for a master who demeans himself in this manner; and no native servant of any worth will permit himself to be cuffed and knocked about, and, rather than submit to such treatment, will give up his place immediately. The submissive air and humble gait of the natives of India should alone be sufficient to disarm a European, and prevent him from ever lifting his hand against one of them, even when provoked to the uttermost by some gross act of carelessness or stupidity. A little patience and kindness, coupled with tact and firmness, will generally produce the desired effect, and is much to be preferred to harshness and constant scolding.
The young Anglo-Indian, on reaching his destination at, we will suppose, some up-country station in the North-western Provinces of Bengal or the Punjab, will, generally speaking, require the following servants: a bearer or personal attendant; khitmutghar or table attendant; bheestie or water-carrier; dhobie or washerman; mehter or sweeper; syce or groom; and a grass-cutter to provide fodder for his pony; and throughout the hot-weather months, two additional coolies will be necessary to keep the punkah moving throughout the exhausting nights of the tropics.