SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF AN (EX) UNPROTECTED FEMALE.

New Zealander, Volume 7, Issue 570, 1 October 1851, Page 4

SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF AN (EX) UNPROTECTED FEMALE.

(From Punch.) Mns. Jones (late Miss Mautha Struggles') receives a Census Paper, and hat difficulties in respect of it. Time— Saturday, March 29. Mr. Jones is away from home on business. Mrs. Jone s has been left for a week to struggle with her bnetiness, a sense of the horrors of Papal Aggression and the approaching Exhibition of all Nations, a flighty Housemaid, and a Cook q, 'violent temper. Scene.— The Front Parlour, Great Coram Street. The Ex-Unprotected is discovered at her solitary meal. It is raining. Ex-Unprotected Female (in t damp Rnd dreary frame of mind). How it pours! I hope Jones is not out in it. He never will put his feet in hot water, on his journeys. He says it does him more good to put the hot water into his mouth, instead, with a little brandy and sugar. Uh ! I'm sure he 's getting fond of spirits. (Reverts by a well-known law in the association of ideas, from Mr. Jones's " hot, with," to the " cold, without.") Oh, dear, ! how it's raining to be sure, 'lhey sny thnt Crystal Palace is quite full of water — and no wonder, I 'in sure ; and very glad I am of it. With their Cardinal Wisemans and their Gavazzis — n parcel of foreigners 1 And, mercy only knows what revolutions they may'nt have, when they all come over here, and clubs and things. I'm sure it's dreadful. ( A smart knock is heard ; a cross between the rat-tat of the postman and the rat-a-tat-tat of a visitor.) Oh! what's that 1 ? — only a knock. Butone's so nervous. Jones shall stay at home all this summer; and if he loses his situation I'm not a-goiag to be left alone with the foreigners and the people — and so I'll tell him. (A colloquy is heard in the passage.) There's that Alary a-gossiping as usual. The baker, l suppose; or the green-grocer's young man from round the corner, j about the firewood. j [Enter Maiiy (the flighty Housemaid) with a paper in her \ hand, and some excitemont in her manner. Miss Mary is a good deal prettier than a housemaid hat a right to bs, even if not flighty.'] Mary, how often have I told you not to stay gossiping at the door ? Mary (putting herself, morally, into an attitude of self-defence). Please, M', I were not a-gossiping ! It's a man with the Censers. Ex- Unpi otected Female (whose mind is acutely alive to the encroachments of the Papal power). The Censers ! Oh ! Goodness gracious me ! Bring Censers to my house ! They'll bring the incense next, and the white veil, I suppose, and ask one to go into a nunnery —the wretches ! When they know I can't abear Mr. Bennett and the Puseyites, let alone the Cardinals and j the Monks, and that Bishop of Clifton (with fervour). Tell the man to take 'em away, this minute, and say I'm surprised at his impudence. Mary (much impressed by her mistress's excitement). Please, M', I said we did'nt want any ; and was ordered never to take in papers at the door — Ex-Unprotected Female (horrified). Papers! Oh! — I suppose they are some horrid Popish tracts. Mary. Pertikly not when to be called for. Ex Unprotected Female (in bitter apprehension). Then he's coming back again, is he ! But you didn't take 'em in ? Mary. Please M', he said it was the law, and I must, or we'll all be had up afore the justices. There's the paper, M. Ex-Unprotected Female (talcing it under a vague impression that Cardinal Wiseman has triumphed, and that the Pope's guard are distributing instruments of superstitions and confessions of faith). Good gracious ! (Reads superscription.) " Census of the Popu-lation"-—(much relieved). Oh, you stupid girl ! — why, it's the Census ! Mary (doggedly re-inserting the " rs"). Yes, M', I said it was the Censers. Ex-Unprotected Female. Don't be saucy, Mary; I beg you won't. It's the Census I tell you ; that is— (rather puzzled fora definition) — it's intended—(catching at the Registrar-General's iaformation) — " to show the number of the population — their arrangement by ages and families, in different ranks, professions, employments, and trades; their distribution over the country, in villages, towns, and cities ; their increase and progress in the last ten years." (Taking breath.) | Yes, that's what it is, Mary (triumphantly) — and a i very good thing too. Maiy (saucily). I don't see what business anybody's got with other people's ages and families and auch like. Ex-Uvprotected Female (who had been turning over the documeut in some bewilderment with the General Instructions, Examples and Directions). How daie you talk so, you impudent thing ! It's the Government. Mary (with redoubled sauciness). If it was the Queen, M', I don't think she's any business to ask all them questions, M. Ex-Unprotected Female. Ob, Mary, how dare you? Take away the things, do, this nniuue. Mary. Yes M\ (Takes away the things, and exit.) Ei-Unprotected Female (settling herself down to grapple with the Census Paper). Now, then, let me see. I'm glad Jones will have to fill it, for it seems rather difficult from all these instructions. Eh? (Rpads.) "JThis papei will be called lor on Monday, March 31st,

by the appointed oihcor." Oh, dear! then Jones won't be back in time —and wboever's to fill it up if Jon. s isn't here? (Reads again.) "You ar? requested to insert the particulars specified on the other pa<>e, respecting all the persons who slept 01 abode in you house on the night of March 30th." That's to-morrow —and Jones won't be back for a week. Oh dear, dear, how provoking! Let's see. (Reads.) " Name and surname —no person absent on the night of March 30th to be entered." Then Jones won't he entered— not entered in his own house! (Goes on bitterly.) Write after the name of the head of the family, the name of his wife —■" But I ain't to write the name of the head of the family —l thought —because he don't sleep here Oh ! why will they? They really ought to explain, "Write the name of his wife" —Martha Stiugglea 19 my name. " Children and others of the samp surname —" (Pauses, 07erwhelmed by the vision of Joneses that ris>es before before her.) Oh dear—others hearing the surname of Jones —why, there's ten pages of 'em in the Post-office Directory! What's this column? (Reads again.) " Relation to head of family." But I haven't to put head of family down at all —if he doesn't sleep here. (Reads, in increasing perplexity.)' "State whether wife, son, daughter, or other relative." Whose wife, I should like to know, if I musn't mention Jones because he doesn't sleep at home that night? " Other relations." Goodness me ! —how am I to know all the man's Telations—its a Welsh family, and they're all related to each other there. (Reads again, in a state bordering on despair.) f> Deaf and dumb, or blind; write ' deaf and dumb,' or ' blind/ opposite the name of the person." Dear me! There's nobody here deaf and dumb, or blind ; so how can I write such things, when they say I'm to be fined £5 if I don't write the truth, and have to go before the justices, and perhaps be sent to the station-house, or somewhere, for perjury. And then, thei'B are the servants ! Ido declare I'm afraid to ask the Cook —she flies out bo —and Mary will be giving me some of her impertinence At all events I'd better prepare them for it. (Rings the bell nervously, and resumes her consideration of the papers.) Fifteen places for people's names! I wonder why they put in fifteen, and not ten, or twelve, or twenty ? And I wonder what they want it at all for the Government. I'm sure, except for the taxes, and such bothering things as this, we don't see much of the Government.

Enter Mary, who bobs defiance. "Mary. Did you ring, M. ? Ex-Unprotected Female. Send up Cook~(Mary is going)—and come yourself —Mary —l've something very serious to say to you. Mary (aside), 1 s'pose she's going to knag us about somethin' or other, the old— — .Re-Enter Mary, with Cook, very red in the face, and with a tendency to avail herself of the support of neigh' bowing pieces of furniture. Ex-Unprotected Female (with mingled emotion and dignity). Oh —l've sent for you, Mary, and Cook, about this paper. We've all got to answer the questions the Government asks us in it. Cook (labouring under an intense hatred of Centralisation). And what business has the Government acomin* leavin' papers here for, I'd like to know ? I'd like to catcli the Government a comin' down the area-steps, I would —or into my kitching. I'd -pin a dishcloth to the Government's tail, I would. There! (Snorts defiance, and grasps an arm-chair in her emotion.) Ex-Unprotectod Female (with stern dignity). Cook, its awful to hear you use such language of the Government. Now, attend to me, both of yoa, and answer my questions. (Takes a pen. To Cook, who radiates defiance and obstructiveuess.) Your name is Sarah Soaker. Cook (with malignant triumph). No, Mum —it ain't no such thing. Ex-Unprotectei Female (alarmed). Why, that's the name I hired you by ? Cook (with diabolical glee). But it ain't my nntne as I was baptised by —and what that is, nobody knows, as I dont wish it —wich it isn't the Government nor you neither, Ma'am. It's mean in the Government to come prying into families —it's shabby in 'om —and they'd better ask how much drippin* goes into the pantry—perhaps you'll put that down for'em. Ex-Unprotected Female (in a tone of conviction). Sarah Soaker, you're in liquor —don't go to deny it. Mary Briggs. Your condition, if you please? As for that woman's condition, it's gin —she smells quite strong of it. (Examining from paper.) " Married, Widower, Widow, or Unmarried?" Mary Briggs, I insist upon your answering, or I shall be fined £5. Afar;/ Biiggs (pursing her lips and flushing). Sba'nt then, if it was £60. Ei'Unprotected Female (with solemnity). Blary Briggs, if you don't answer tbe question I shall suspect the worst. You ain't married, Mary Briggs? Mary Briggs (with all the pride of her sex). Well M', and if 1 was, I hope a poor servant may go and get married. Ex-Unprotected Female (with a horrid light breaking in on her). Goodness gracious ! —oh dear! That soldier —l do believe —ob, Mary Briggs. (Mary endeavours to bear up, but quails under Mrs, Jones's eye) But how do I know what's true, and what isn't? And how ever is .one to fill it up, if one dont' even know one's own servants' names and conditions. And no Head of the Family at home—and obliged to put oneself down as a wife, without saying whose wife, and to put deaf and dumb, or blind, after one's name, whether one is or not; and to be fined £5 if it isn't true ; and to bare to tell one'i age, and find out other females' ages. Oh dear ! oh dear! I never shall—l am aure I shall have to go before the Justices! [Mary and Cook triumph in her agony The Curtain falls on her despair.