Scrubbing

Maoriland Worker, Volume I, Issue 7, 20 March 1911, Page 17

Scrubbing

"Does you want some scrubbing done, mister." The Avoman who asked the question looked anything between 25 and 50 years of age, and the picture of a; scrubber. She looked as if she had scrubbed ever since she could hold a scrubbing brush. Her face was purple and red, her hands mostly purple, her dress decent, but poor. She carried a Maori kit, apparently holding a scrubbing brush and floor cloth. She repeated her question, and when answered to in the negative, she remarked, '"Times is bad, ain't they? and folks in our street does tell lies about one. . . . They tell a lot about mc, and times is hard. ... If you ain't got no scrubbing to do, does you know anybody that wants some? . . I does scrubbing real good. . . Mother said I was a good scrubber before she died. . . Times has been hard since mother died. . . I wish mother hadn't died; we got lots of scrubbing when mother was living.. . Them was good days, them was. . . One got plenty to eat them days . . Folks didn't tell lies them days—mother wouldn't let them. . You don't knoAV nobody that wants no scrubbing done, does you ? Times is hard, ain't they, and folks in our street does tell lies about one since mother died." A long pause, a, wistful look, a sigh of weary resignation. Then: '-'Well, I guess I'll go, but if you wants any scrubbing done I does it well, and I does it cheap, I doesGood day, mister." And she closed the door qtiietly behind her. But for long after she had left I could see her careworn figure, and hear her querulous voice as she piped, "Does you want, some scrubbing done, mister; I does my scrubbing well and I does it cheap !" —BILL PSYCHE.