Chapter I: Manners and Customs

I AM inclined to agree with a certain prelate of some unfrequented islands, who said of the inhabitants, “Customs beastly, manners none.”

The most characteristic custom of female Adelaide is church-going--any church committee, prayer meeting, or bazaar, will tear her away from domestic duties. Sometimes she persuades her male belongings to accompany her, but they seem not to appreciate this attention, and generally wander wearily to church with a woe-begone “duty-compels-me” air.

The men have only two customs, common to them all. The first is a tendency to look too often on the wine that is red. Hotel-keeping is a profitable business here, where the “come and have a drink” formula is repeated at intervals of five minutes all day, and, frequently, nearly all night. Particularly on the share market is this habit apparent, where every deal made is responsible for plentiful libations from the cup that cheers. Whisky and soda, beer, and frequently even fizzy drink, form the most staple articles of nourishment among the share-broking fraternity. The other prevalent custom is a fixed devotion to narrow-toed boots, which common-sense and fashion (for once agreed) discarded long ago. The former habit is an evil, because far-reaching in its results. In time it might kill its victims, but that would be a matter of small regret as many of them could well be spared. It is the misery said victims entail on their wives and mothers to which I take objection. The drinkers, having little intellect to destroy, do not lose much mentally by their Bacchanalian orgies, but they become vastly disagreeable to their fellow-creatures. Of the other custom--to wit, their taste in boots, there is little to be said, as it makes them uncomfortable, and does not hurt anyone else.

No comment that I could make would be severe enough to portray the utter brutishness of the villagers’ manners--let the gentle reader go to the Mayor’s ball, or any other public function, and judge for himself! When the supper rooms are thrown-open, the guests fight like wild beasts, and their rush for food is like nothing I have ever seen so much as a pack of hungry beagles at feeding-time. Whether they fast for a week in order to avail themselves of these free repasts, I cannot say, but their greed is appalling.

The villagers’ stare (this applies particularly to the female population) is an awful and shameless thing. Especially do they gaze at those of more pleasing appearance than themselves; whether from motives of scorn or of envy, I know not. The men do not, as a rule, indulge this habit--perhaps they are never sufficiently sober--but the women feast their eyes with undisguised rudeness on anything, female or otherwise, that interests them. To be sure the stare is not always so distressing as it is meant to be, because it is so difficult to take the villagers seriously. Scorn is wasted when emanating from an untidy female with a small intelligence and large feet, and it is difficult to be awe-inspiring in ready-made skirts and number six shoes! Moreover, said untidy females have not sufficient tact or intelligence to conceal their evil feelings, and not enough courage to live up to them.

Monkshood says:--“An ugly woman, badly dressed is doubly damned--She is bad Nature and bad Art.”

If that be true, female Adelaide in general is going fast to perdition.