
                           Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell

                            Cranford and Other Tales

                                   Chapter I

                                  Our Society

In the first place, Cranford is in possession of the Amazons; all the holders of
houses above a certain rent are women. If a married couple come to settle in the
town, somehow the gentleman disappears; he is either fairly frightened to death
by being the only man in the Cranford evening parties, or he is accounted for by
being with his regiment, his ship, or closely engaged in business all the week
in the great neighbouring commercial town of Drumble, distant only twenty miles
on a railroad. In short, whatever does become of the gentlemen, they are not at
Cranford. What could they do if they were there? The surgeon has his round of
thirty miles, and sleeps at Cranford; but every man cannot be a surgeon. For
keeping the trim gardens full of choice flowers without a weed to speck them;
for frightening away little boys who look wistfully at the said flowers through
the railings; for rushing out at the geese that occasionally venture into the
gardens if the gates are left open; for deciding all questions of literature and
politics without troubling themselves with unnecessary reasons or arguments; for
obtaining clear and correct knowledge of everybody's affairs in the parish; for
keeping their neat maid-servants in admirable order; for kindness (somewhat
dictatorial) to the poor, and real tender good offices to each other whenever
they are in distress, the ladies of Cranford are quite sufficient. »A man,« as
one of them observed to me once, »is so in the way in the house!«
    Although the ladies of Cranford know all each other's proceedings, they are
exceedingly indifferent to each other's opinions. Indeed, as each has her own
individuality, not to say eccentricity, pretty strongly developed, nothing is so
easy as verbal retaliation; but, somehow, good-will reigns among them to a
considerable degree.
    The Cranford ladies have only an occasional little quarrel, spirted out in a
few peppery words and angry jerks of the head; just enough to prevent the even
tenor of their lives from becoming too flat. Their dress is very independent of
fashion; as they observe, »What does it signify how we dress here at Cranford,
where everybody knows us?« And if they go from home, their reason is equally
cogent, »What does it signify how we dress here, where nobody knows us?« The
materials of their clothes are, in general, good and plain, and most of them are
nearly as scrupulous as Miss Tyler, of cleanly memory;
