THE SHIRT.

Maoriland Worker, Volume 3, Issue 87, 15 November 1912, Page 4

THE SHIRT.

A Powerful Transcript from Life. By WILFRID WILSON GIBSON. (A room in tenements, near the railway. Caroline Alder sits by the fire, sewing. Isa Grey is standing near her, gazing ati the blaze. The clank and rumble of waggons being shunted sounds loudly through the night air.) Caroline: Aye, lass: the shirt's for Will. I'll not be sorry when it's finished, Though it's the last I'll make for him Isa: The last? Caroline • You'll surely make the next, I trust You, surely, don't expect, my girl, I'll still he making for him when he's married? You're much mistaken. . . . Isa: Nayl . . . But when you said the last, somehow. . . . Caroline: The very last! And well I mind the* first I made, Or ever he was born, Nigh twenty years ago. And I was but a lass like you; And, as I sewed it, by the fire, His father Bat and watched mc, and we talked . . . We talked of him. . . . His father always hoped 'twould be a boy; And yet, before he came To wear the shirt I'd made* for him. . . . Isa : Hie father never saw him? Caroline: Nay; he'd not leave his engine, Although the fireman leapt 4 (A pause) But, 'twas a dainty shirt I For I had eyes in those days, And nimble fingers, too— You never saw the like. N Why, this would make a score of it: He's grown a bit since thenl See, what a neck and shoulders— His father's, to an inch! You'll have your work set. , . . Isa: Yes, it's big enough. Caroline: He's just his father's spit snd image: And he's his father, in more ways than one. Fvc never had a wrong word from his lips. However things have gone with him, He always comes in just as he went out. You're lucky, lass, as I was. . . . "Though I And now, I've made his shirts for twenty year, Just twenty year, come Michaelmas. He's aye slept snugly in my handiwork. At one time, I could scarce keep pace with him; He sprouted up so quickly: And every year, I've had to cut them bigger, Till, now that he's a man, fullgrown. ... And still, to-night, somehow, I almost wish That I was hemming baby-shirts again, His father sitting by mc, as I sewed. . . . But you will soon be stitching, lass. . . . Isa: I wonder. . • How clearly we oan hear the trains to-night. Caroline: Perhaps the air is frosty: Though I have always seemed to hear them clearer Since . . . since his father. . . . Isa: - I hate to hear them clanking. Caroline: Aye, lass; but you'll get used to it, Before you'v-3 lived here long. I couldn't 'sleep at night without it now. Once, when I stayed at Mary's, I could not sleep a wink. . . . The quiet seerneid so queer. . . . I missed the clank Isa: I never shall get used to it. I hate that clanking, clanking. . . I wish that Will could leave the shunting. . . . Caroline: Aye, coupling's chancy work. But life's a chancy thing at best. And other jobs are bad .to get: And he's a steady .lad. Isa : Yet, if he slipped I Carolin* : There's little iear of him: He's always been surefooted, from a boy: And .such a nerve 1 I've seen him walk the tiles. . . . Isa: To think that he'll be at it all night long! Caroline: Well, he must take his shift among the rest. - It's hard, at first, to miss your man at night, But wives must meeds get used to it. My man was often gone from mc, The day and night together: And it was :on the nightshirt. . . He hadn't slept a wink for days, For he'd been -sitting up ■with me— The doctor thought I'd scarce pull. through— But he'd to -go, -and leave mc. I never saw him more. They buried him -and all Ere I was out of bed again. (Pause) But that was long agoNigh twenty year— And now his son'a a man; And soon to marry. There, lass, it's almost done: I've just one button now. . . . Isa: I'll sew it on. I've never done a stitch for him. Caroline : Nayl It's the last Fll make "for him: And no may have a hand in. it. You'll have enough to do, Before you've long been jnarried. . . Isa: I wonder. . . . Caroline : Wonder, lass! What's wrong with you, to-night? You seem so . . . why, you're all a-tremble 1 Isa: The trains have stopped. . . . I cannot hear a sound. Caroline. Aye, lass, it's queer. . . . But soon they'll start again. I never knew such quiet. . . . Isa: That they would all start clanking! I cannot bear the-silence. . .

Caroline: It's time that you were getting home to bed: You're overwrought tornight. Isa: I wish I knew. . . . There's noir a sound yet. . . Caroline : Nay, lasß, harkl (An express thunders by, shafe ing the houses) ISA: Well, I'll be getting home. r Good-night 1 Caroline : Good-night! There, that's the last stitch done. Is't not a brave shirt, lass I It's ready for him, when he comes. (Isa goes out and down the stairs) She's overwrought a bit. About the time I was to wed. -, , It's strangely quiet now- again. . . I never knew. ... They must have finished shunting. . Yet . . . (She stands, listening, as a hurrying step is hoard on the stairs, and Isa bursts into thf room, panting) Caroline: What'B wrong, lassP Isa : " Will! Oh, Will! Caroline : Speak, woman, speak! Isa : They're bringing him. * k i I met them in the street. , , • 0 Will! 0 Willi Caroline : His son . . too . . . (She picks up the shirt, whicfc has fallen from her hand. They stand silent, waitme; and there is no sound at the room, until the shunting of waggons starts again, when laa puts hex fingers to her ears, and sinks to the ground.) Isa : 'Twill never stop again. I'll always hear . . . —"Christian Commonwealth."