Read For the School Colours Page 15


  CHAPTER XIV

  War Work

  After all, Avelyn enjoyed her holidays far more than she had everexpected. The Lascelles gave her a kind welcome, and tried to make herfeel at home. They were quite a jolly family--all considerably olderthan Avelyn. Two sons were in the Flying Corps, and the third was at aGovernment office in the town. The daughters, Mary and Gwen, were busywith various kinds of war work, and had little time to spare. They madea great effort, however, to amuse their visitor, and took her out inturns. Avelyn was treated to pantomime, concerts, and cinemas, and wasinvited with the Lascelles to many little parties and social evenings.She would infinitely rather have been constructing a rockery in the dearWalden garden than sitting in a picture palace looking at theeccentricities of Charlie Chaplin, but she appreciated the kindness ofthe Lascelles, and felt what the French call _reconnaissante_, which hasa far more subtle meaning than "grateful".

  "Couldn't you take Avelyn to the Munition Hostel, Mary?" said Mrs.Lascelles one day, when plans for entertaining the young guest wererunning rather low. "I'm sure Bertha Gordon would show you over thecanteen if you asked her."

  "If it would amuse Ave?" began Mary doubtfully.

  "I'd just love it!" agreed Avelyn, brightening perceptibly.

  "Then I'll ring up Bertha. If it's her afternoon off I'm certain she'llhave us. She told me to come the first opportunity I had, and I'vealways seemed too busy up till to-day. I've been wanting to go for everso long."

  A brisk ringing of the telephone bell followed, and Mary came backpresently with the welcome information that her friend Bertha would befree from three till six o'clock, and would be delighted to see twovisitors and show them all in her power.

  "We'll get up there as early as we can," said Mary, "so that we'll havetime for sight-seeing before tea."

  Miss Gordon was doing Government war work in Harlingden. She had takenher certificate for domestic economy at a training college in London,and now held a post in the canteen department of a huge munitionfactory. The place lay a few miles out of the town. Mary and Avelynfirst caught a tram-car, which whisked them along an uninterestingstretch of shabby road, and put them down at a corner where three waysmet. It was a tolerably long walk from there to the munition works. Theneighbourhood was dingy, with rows of small cottages and second-rateshops, and tall chimneys or furnaces in the background. The ChaytonGovernment factory was a colony in itself, with a special railway lineout from Harlingden. The station platform marked its boundary. Afterthat came rows and rows of munition cottages--little wooden houses, eachcontaining three rooms and a bath-room, all exactly similar except forthe numbers on the doors. The girls passed these, and went in thedirection of the hostels. At the great gate of the works stood a sentryon duty, who asked them their names, residence, and whom they were goingto visit, and entered these particulars in a book before he would admitthem.

  "It's all right. Miss Gordon told me that she was expecting you," hevolunteered, as he opened the gate for them.

  Feeling rather as if they were going into prison, Mary and Avelynstepped forward, and found themselves in a big enclosure fenced withbarbed wire. Each hostel was a large, separate bungalow building, andthere were also several recreation halls. Patches of ground planted withcabbages lay between. It all looked very new and unfinished, somethinglike the pictures of mushroom cities in America. In front of them loomedthe canteen, an enormous red-brick structure with a corrugated-ironroof. Mary enquired at the office for Miss Gordon, and her friend soonmade her appearance.

  "I'm so glad you've found your way here! Come in, and I'll show youeverything. It's a queer place, isn't it?"

  "I should get lost in it!" declared Mary.

  "Oh! it's wonderful how soon you learn to find your way about. Whatwould you like to see first? The canteen? We shall just have time to goround before tea, then we'll do the hostel afterwards."

  Avelyn trotted off with great interest in the wake of Mary Lascelles andMiss Gordon. She was going to see a new side of life, and learn whatsome women were doing to help the war. Out at the front our boys werefighting for Britain's honour, but their heroism would be of no avail ifthe hands slacked that forged the weapons at home. The workers who madethe munitions, and those who toiled to feed the workers and keep themfit, were taking their share of the burden, and, in however small andobscure a way, were pushing the world on towards the victory of Rightover Might.

  Miss Gordon first led the way into the canteen, an enormous hall withseats for three thousand people. There were long tables with benches,placed in rows, and over these hung sign-boards: "Hostel I", "HostelII", "Hostel III", &c.

  "Each hostel has its own tables," explained Miss Gordon, "and the girlsare bound to go there. It saves scrambling. They all have food coupons,and they take them to the counter, and exchange them for any dishes theywant, and then carry their plates to their own places. There's a menuhung up, and they generally have the choice of several things. It's atremendous sight to see them all filing in for their meals."

  "Are they easily satisfied?" asked Mary.

  "As a rule, but sometimes we get grumblers, and they inflame the others.You see, there are all sorts and conditions of girls here, and some ofthem are a rough lot. Individually they are quite nice, but when theyget together in crowds some spirit of lawlessness seems to permeatethem, and they get utterly out of hand sometimes. Once there was aterrific row. They were discontented with their rations, and they putthe blame on Mr. Jennings, the canteen manager. Some agitators stirredup trouble, and one evening things came to a head. There was ricepudding for supper, and the girls didn't like rice pudding, so theyflung it all about the room and smashed the plates; then they stood onthe seats and shouted and yelled. They said that, if they could catchthe manager, they would teach him a lesson. He dared not show himself.Indeed, he was obliged to go away altogether. It was about two hoursbefore the row subsided; all that time the girls were shouting in thecanteen. They had utterly lost control of themselves, and wouldn'tlisten to anyone who tried to speak to them. We've a new manager now,and things are going better."

  "How fearfully exciting!" commented Mary.

  "Rather too exciting at the time, I can tell you! And the hall was insuch an awful mess, with rice pudding flung about everywhere. Come intothe kitchen now and I'll show you my department."

  Avelyn had never seen cooking on so vast a scale before. There weregreat polished copper cauldrons for stews, so large that they looked asif Giant Blunderbore's meals might be prepared in them; there were rowsand rows of ovens and steamers; and an electric meat cutter that slicedup the joints. Puddings were being mixed in big washing basins, andvegetables were cut up by a machine. There were enormous cans of milk,and all kinds of receptacles for other stores.

  "We have to calculate exactly what we require, so that there's nowaste," said Miss Gordon. "We send up lists every day, and the lists areinspected."

  The tea canteen kitchen was a department in itself. There were hugeboilers for hot water, rows of bright copper tea urns, and an electriccutter for bread. Two girls stood at a table buttering enormous piles ofslices.

  "What monotonous work!" remarked Avelyn.

  "Yes, it is rather," answered Miss Gordon. "They give that to thenovices, and pass them on to something else afterwards. But one getsaccustomed to all the work, and doesn't mind. Now we'll have some teaourselves. Come to the Staff Room. I'm allowed to bring in my visitors."

  The sitting-room reserved for the members of the staff was divided byglass doors from the canteen. It had little tables and chairs, and itswooden walls had been decorated with pictures from magazines, fastenedup with drawing pins. Some of the staff were already seated there havingtea--brisk, capable ladies, most of whom had left comfortable homes inorder to take up war work. Miss Gordon greeted several friends, andintroduced Mary and Avelyn. The scones and the oat cake were delicious,and were certainly a good advertisement of the cookery done in thecanteen. It was quite a merry little tea-party, for the lady workersappeared to
have a stock of jokes among themselves.

  "Now you must see my hostel," said Miss Gordon, pushing aside her cupand rising when her guests had finished. "If you've seen mine you'veseen them all, for they're exactly alike."

  The colony consisted of thirty-two hostels, each holding a hundredgirls. The buildings were separate bungalows, and each had its ownmatron, who was responsible for the comfort of its inmates. Miss Gordonshowed Mary and Avelyn into her bedroom, a little room nine feet square,heated by hot-water pipes, and containing a bed, chest of drawers,table, wash-stand, chair, and cupboard for dresses.

  "They give us the necessary furniture," explained Miss Gordon, "but wemust find our own pretty things. I brought the curtains and thebed-cover and cushion and dressing-table mats, and of course my ownpictures and photos. There's a good deal of competition in making ourrooms nice."

  "This one's perfectly sweet!" exclaimed Avelyn.

  "It's not so bad, and there's quite a comfy chair to sit in to rest andwrite letters. We can lock up our rooms if we like; the matron hasduplicate keys for cleaning purposes."

  There was more to be seen at the hostel: the laundry, where any girlswho liked might wash their own clothes, and where several were busily atwork with an ample supply of water and hot irons; the matron's littleoffice, with its piles of papers neatly filed; and the store-room, withits sacks of flour, sugar, rice, and other commodities, that wereweighed out daily and sent to the canteen.

  "We lack a cosy sitting-room," said Miss Gordon; "we have to use ourbedrooms instead. There's a recreation hall, where we can dance in theevenings if we wish, and I hope sometime there's going to be a library.At present everything's so new, and they have to think of the sternbusiness part first before they give us luxuries. It's a utilitariansort of life."

  "Do you like it?" asked Avelyn.

  "Yes, on the whole very much. It's interesting, and I always enjoy beingamong a crowd. Masses of people attract me, and I've got the communityspirit at present, and want to work with the hive."

  Avelyn looked thoughtful. It was not the kind of life that appealed toher at all. She loved Nature's solitudes, and the companionship of woodsand streams more than crowds of people. To live in a hostel and canteenwould be absolute purgatory. She hoped she was not unpatriotic. Thenher face suddenly cleared.

  "I could go on the land when I leave school!" she exclaimed with relief.

  Mary Lascelles and Miss Gordon laughed. Avelyn's train of thought hadbeen so evident. Palpably she was not attracted by what she saw.

  "Yes, you'd be doing your bit on the land just as much as in a factory,"said Miss Gordon kindly. "It isn't everybody who cares to take upcanteen work. Let's hope the war will be over before you leave school.You'll have several years more at your lessons yet, I suppose."

  The little country mouse was certainly turned into a town mouse forthese Christmas holidays. Avelyn felt that she had never before seen somuch of Harlingden, even when she had lived there. The Lascelles werevery public-spirited people, who were interested in everything that wasgoing on in the city and anxious to lend a hand in all schemes for thegeneral good. They sewed national costumes for the Serbians, rolledbandages at the War Supply Depot, distributed dinners at the municipalkitchens, taught gymnastic classes at girls' clubs, visited crippledchildren, got up concerts for wounded soldiers, and organized Christmasparties for slum babies. They seemed to be occupied nearly every minuteof the day, and they soon swept Avelyn into the whirl of the waractivities. If it was not exactly her ideal life, she nevertheless likedit, and felt that she was being of use. She went with Cousin Lilia tothe Town Hall, and rather enjoyed standing behind a counter handing outpies, or ladling soup into jugs for the rows of busy people who keptpushing in from the long queue standing in the courtyard outside. Sheadmired the smart quick drill in Mary's gymnasium class, and marvelledthat the girls had so much spirit left after their long day's work; shemade the whole of a Serbian child's dress herself, with beautifulbarbaric red-and-blue trimming on it; she helped to hand cigarettesround to the soldiers at their concert; and she played "Blind Man'sBuff" and "Drop the Handkerchief" with the slum children at the NewYear's party in the Ragged School.

  She had an altogether fresh experience at the Creche. This day nurserywas a new institution in Harlingden, and had been opened in order thatwomen who wished to help at munitions might leave their babies to betaken care of while they were at work. Gwen Lascelles gave two morningsa week to it, as a voluntary nurse, thereby releasing some of the staffto go off duty. One day she offered to take Avelyn with her, and thelatter jumped at the invitation.

  "Matron doesn't mind, and you'd be a help," said Gwen. "Nurse Barnes isaway ill, so we're short-handed just now, and sometimes it's all I cando to manage. One or two of those toddlers are the limit!"

  Elton Lodge had been lent by a patriotic citizen for use as a daynursery, and was well adapted for the purpose. It had plenty ofaccommodation, and a garden where the babies could be out of doors insummer. Gwen and Avelyn arrived here by ten o'clock, took off coats andhats, donned aprons, and entered the ward. This was a large, light, airyroom, or rather two rooms thrown together. At one end stood twelve cribsin which lay twelve babies, most of them fast asleep. At the other end,grouped round the high fire-guard, were sixteen little toddlers of allages from eighteen months to four years. The nurse in charge rose withan air of relief and handed over her duties to Gwen.

  "They're all right," she remarked, "all but Curly, who's in a temperto-day. Don't let George bully the others, and smack Eddie if he triesto unfasten the fire-guard. He knows what to expect! Nurse Peters willbe in the laundry if you want her."

  The nurse made her escape, and the toddlers came crowding round Gwen,clamouring for her to open the toy-box. Avelyn strolled across the roomto inspect the babies. They had just had their bottles, and indeed somehad not yet quite finished and were sucking away contentedly. They weredear babies, some quite wee who counted their ages by weeks, and olderones with little tight silky curls. One blue-eyed, tearful, barefootedperson stood up in her crib and held out a beseeching pair of arms.Avelyn could not resist the appeal. She took up the small creature andcuddled it; it clasped her tightly round the neck, put a confiding headon her shoulder, and sobbed gently. Gwen disengaged herself from thetoddlers and came across.

  "We're really not supposed to take them up and nurse them," she said."But I own I break the rules sometimes. Poor little Queenie's anew-comer; she's been petted at home and hasn't got used to creche waysyet. She'll soon settle down. Look at Arthur! Isn't he splendid? When hefirst came he was simply skin and bone through improper feeding. Hismother used to give him tastes of tea and red herrings. This is Frankie,our special creche baby. He lives here altogether. His mother is inprison for ill-treating him, poor wee darling! She's not to have himagain when she comes out--the judge said so. I know you'd love Patty ifshe were awake. She's got the cutest little ways."

  Gwen went round from cot to cot performing services for the babies,restoring a teat to a small mouth that had not yet finished its bottle,covering cold hands, turning the position of some, and patting otherswho were inclined to be fretful and wail.

  "I just long to nurse them," she assured Avelyn. "But you see it reallywouldn't do to let them get into the habit of thinking that they must betaken up and played with every time they cry."

  "Don't they howl when they first come?"

  "Simply yell for a day or two. Sometimes we have to put them in theisolation ward because they disturb the others so dreadfully. They soonget accustomed to creche life, though. Their mothers bring them at aboutsix in the morning, and take them home after work in the evening. Whenthey arrive here they're washed, and dressed in the creche clothes, andtheir own clothes are put on again at night."

  "They don't seem shy," remarked Avelyn, who was still hugging Queenie.

  "No, that's the best of them. With seeing so many nurses and helpersthey'll go to anybody. They're very sweet when you may have them up andattend to them. Queenie'
s getting sleepy. I think you'd better put herback to bed."

  Avelyn disengaged the clinging little arms with reluctance. She wouldcheerfully have acted nurse all the morning if allowed. She lowered hersleepy burden into the crib, and turned her attention to the toddlers,who certainly needed it. Several of them had followed Gwen, and werepopping mischievous fingers through the bars of the cribs and poking thebabies; some were indulging in a free fight over a toy. Eddie, the blacksheep, was attempting to climb the fire-guard; George was punching thehead of a smaller boy, and Curly, for no particular reason, was standingwith arms outstretched, yelling at the pitch of his lung power. It tookthe best energies of the two young helpers to restore order.

  "My clothes aren't comfy!" pleaded one small sinner in a tight jersey."I'd be good if you'd let me have my own clothes on!"

  "George took my horse!"

  "I want a doll!"

  "Give me a picture-book!"

  "I want one too!"

  "You won't get anything at all unless you ask prettily!" declared Gwensternly. "Where are your manners, I should like to know?"

  By the end of the morning Avelyn decided that she could thoroughlysympathize with the trying experiences of the old woman who lived in ashoe. She felt in a perfect whirl of babies. They were sweet littlesouls, but she would have enjoyed them more individually; to wrestlewith so many at once was decidedly wearing. At twelve o'clock camedinner. Tiny chairs were placed round low tables, feeders were tied on,and the children were put in their seats and taught to say grace. Thenurses brought in an enormous rice pudding, and gave platefuls to thosewho were old enough to use spoons. Avelyn, sitting in a rocking-chair,fed alternately one small person on her knee and another by her side.Gwen was performing a like service.

  When the meal was at length over, the toddlers trotted off to lowcamp-beds for their midday sleep, leaving a blissful calm in the ward,where the babies were now receiving their share of attention.

  "Do you do this two mornings a week?" asked Avelyn as the girls walkedhome.

  "Yes, but the children aren't always as troublesome as they were to-day,and if they get very bad I can call Matron, or a nurse."

  "I'd like just the babies alone, if there weren't the toddlers as wellto look after. But to have sixteen of them to keep in order is thelimit. I feel----"

  "You'd rather go on the land?" queried Gwen, with an amused smile.

  "Yes, if I can choose my war work, I certainly should!"