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The Record of Badalia Herodsfoot
T h e year's at the spring
A n d day's at the d a w n ;
M o r n i n g ' s at seven;
T h e hill-side's d e w - p e a r l e d ;
T h e lark's on the w i n g ;
T h e snail's on the t h o r n :
G o d ' s in his heaven —
All's right with the w o r l d ! -
Pippa Passes
This is not that Badalia whose spare names were Joanna, Pugna-
cious, and M'Canna, as the song says, but another and a much
nicer lady.
In the beginning of things she had been unregenerate; had worn
the heavy fluffy fringe which is the ornament of the costermonger's
girl, and there is a legend in Gunnison Street that on her wedding-
day she, a flare-lamp in either hand, danced dances on a discarded
lover's winkle-barrow, till a policeman interfered, and then Badalia
danced with the Law amid shoutings. Those were her days of fat-
ness, and they did not last long, for her husband after two years
took to himself another woman, and passed out of Badalia's life,
over Badalia's senseless body; for he stifled protest with blows.
While she was enjoying her widowhood the baby that the husband
had not taken away died of croup, and Badalia was altogether
alone. With rare fidelity she listened to no proposals for a second
marriage according to the customs of Gunnison Street, which do
not differ from those of the Barralong. 'My man,' she explained to
her suitors,' 'e'll come back one o' these days, an' then, like as not,
'e'll take an' kill me if I was livin' 'long o' you. You don't know
Tom; I do. Now you go. I can do for myself - not 'avin' a kid.' She
did for herself with a mangle, some tending of babies, and an oc-
casional sale of flowers. This latter trade is one that needs capital,
and takes the vendor very far westward, insomuch that the return
journey from, let us say, the Burlington Arcade to Gunnison Street,
E, is an excuse for drink, and then, as Badalia pointed out, 'You
148 Rudyard Kipling
come 'ome with your shawl arf off of your back, 'an your bonnick
under your arm, and the price of nothing-at-all in your pocket, let
alone a slop takin' care o' you.' Badalia did not drink, but she knew
her sisterhood, and gave them rude counsel. Otherwise she kept
herself to herself, and meditated a great deal upon Tom Herods-
foot, her husband, who would come back some day, and the baby
who would never return. In what manner these thoughts wrought
upon her mind will not be known.
Her entry into society dates from the night when she rose literally
under the feet of the Reverend Eustace Hanna, on the landing of
No. 17 Gunnison Street, and told him that he was a fool without
discernment in the dispensation of his district charities.
'You give Lascar Loo custids,' said she, without the formality of
introduction; 'give her pork-wine. Garn! Give 'er blankits. Garn
'ome! 'Er mother, she eats 'em all, and drinks the blankits. Gits 'em
back from the shop, she does, before you come visiting again, so as
to 'ave 'em all handy an' proper; an' Lascar Loo she sez to you,
"Oh, my mother's that good to me!" she do. Lascar Loo 'ad better
talk so, bein' sick abed, 'r else 'er mother would kill 'er. Garn!
you're a bloomin' gardener — you an' yer custids! Lascar Loo don't
never smell of 'em even.'
Thereon the curate, instead of being offended, recognized in the
heavy eyes under the fringe the soul of a fellow-worker, and so
bade Badalia mount guard over Lascar Loo, when the next jelly or
custard should arrive, to see that the invalid actually ate it. This
Badalia did, to the disgust of Lascar Loo's mother, and the sharing
of a black eye between the three; but Lascar Loo got her custard,
and coughing heartily, rather enjoyed the fray.
Later on, partly through the Reverend Eustace Hanna's swift rec-
ognition of her uses, and partly through certain tales poured out
with moist eyes and flushed cheeks by Sister Eva, youngest and
most impressionable of the Little Sisters of the Red Diamond, it
came to pass that Badalia, arrogant, fluffy-fringed, and perfectly
unlicensed in speech, won a recognized place among such as labour
in Gunnison Street.
These were a mixed corps, zealous or hysterical, faint-hearted or
only very wearied of battle against misery, according to their lights.
The most part were consumed with small rivalries and personal
jealousies, to be retailed confidentially to their own tiny cliques in
the pauses between wrestling with death for the body of a mori-
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