Читать книгу Lost Voices of the Edwardians: 1901–1910 in Their Own Words - Max Arthur, Max Arthur - Страница 35

On the Sabbath, I used to wake up with an awful feeling that something terrible had happened. There was just a feeling in the air. You daren't laugh and all your toys and books had to be put away. My father used to sit with a newspaper while we washed, tidied up the house and got ready for church. I had one special frock for Sunday and a top petticoat. In those days, I was bundled up from the top down to my boots. This petticoat had a starched top which used to cut into my neck. It was so painful that when it got to tea time, I would look at the clock, thinking, ‘God, only another two hours before I go to bed.’ I was so glad to take that thing off. At church, we sat in a pew and I would pass the plate, and if we were flush, one of us would put a ha'penny in, otherwise we put nothing in. I told a vicar once how I hated Sundays. I think I shocked him. After church, we had to go to Sunday school. In the evening, we were allowed out, but we were never allowed to ‘hang about’ as Father called it. We had to go for a walk and I used to like going to Kensal Green cemetery. I used to watch the people weeping and putting flowers on the graves and I used to think it must be lovely to be dead.