The Conversorium, on Church Street, was built in the late 1880s as the Church Hall for the Parish Church, and remained in use at least until 1950. It has a special place in Kingston's history, having housed schools, and been the location for a wide variety of functions, especially at Christmas. It really deserves its own web site!

The Conversorium.

The Rev. G. W. Downer, Rector of Kingston, held a very interesting gathering on

Wednesday afternoon last, at the fine hall and place of amusement, his energy and ingenuity, financial and constructive, have raised for the Parish Church. Nearly a hundred old people, most of them ancient dames who would never see sixty again, assembled to enjoy Christmas fare at about 3.30 p.m.

Two long tables, were placed across the building in front of the stage, and seated at these tables our representative beheld, full of years, but still full of life and vivacity, four long lines of venerable faces. Wrinkles innumerable there were - certainly, but so radiant were the faces, so beaming with the sense of internal comforts and inward satisfaction, that it was difficult to tell, if the many creases were the corrugations of happy smiles, or the furrows ploughed by time.

Nearly a hundred old ladies sat around those tables, there were a few persons of the male sex also, but these were "far between." It was certainly a gathering, at which the toast of the "Indies" would have been most appropriate. Nobody

however had the courage to present such a toast. Nearly a hundred old ladies attacking abundant, nay - redundant provisions, with a vigor that would lead one to suppose, that dyspepsia was a thing unknown and the office of dentist to the Parish Church a perfect sinecure. Beef and mustard, “pies, custards and the tarts." Ham, yam, and the various gifts of Pomona, disappeared before these festive dames with a rapidity that made our representative a middle-aged man - sigh for the time when he ate fourteen pancakes, at school, on Shrove

Tuesday, breaking the batter-consuming record by two " flap jacks" and defeating the nearest competitor in this Olympian contest by exactly half a pancake. That was a proud moment for our representative, who may be said to win “hands down" in a " common canter," since, at night, he slept peacefully the sleep of the

just, while his defeated competitor for gastronomic honors, awoke in the silent watches of the night with a young earthquake in his " bread basket" and the doctor had to be sent for, as it was feared that his agonies were those immediately proceeding dissolution. We repeat, that was a proud moment for our representative, but never in the full glories of a cast-iron school-boy digestion, which bid defiance to hardbake, green gooseberries and half ripe crab apples, would he have been able to compete with most of the old dames who sat round the tables at the Conversorium on Wednesday afternoon. The rapidity with which "all sorts and conditions" of provender disappeared was so appalling, that a jealous suspicion that all was not "above board" arose, and on a closer examination suspicion that all was not "above board" arose, and on a closer examination it was discovered that so far from being " above board," most of the

good things were "under the table" stowed away, not in the ventricular cavities of the ancient guests but In handkerchiefs, hats, bonnets, baskets and even in umbrellas. With a lofty disregard of the wretched conventionalities which dictate to the fashionable world the sequence of a meal, in these receptacles, there lay

a slice of boiled beef, " cheek-by-jowl" with a slab of pudding, and oranges found a soft congenial couch in the midst of gelatinous masses of blanc mange.

When the feasting and the " provision for the morrow" were over, a nimble old lady of some sixty summers, mounted the platform, and with an eloquence which would have done honour to the declamatory powers of the late member for Manchester, proposed the Rector's health, with three times three. The cheers were heartily given, and then, carried away by the exuberance of youthful vigor,

this frolicsome dame, with a grace, energy and accuracy which would shame any maiden of seventeen in the whole of the Parish Church Congregation; danced a pas seul to the lively tunes of the City Band.

This dance was really a most marvellous performance, and not a coryphée [leader of corps de ballet] at the Royal Italian Opera, but might take a lesson from the little lady in black, who skipped around on the stage of the Conversorium. Taking up her position in the approved style, toes out pointed; and the jupon [skirt] quaintly upheld by the fore finger and thumb of either hand, she advanced on tip-toe, beating the measure equi pede, in strict time, with a quiet smile of self confidence and suppressed power upon her face. Looking at that face, one felt certain that, but for the convenances of modern social decorum and the exigencies of modern every-day dress, that old lady in black, would have given Madame Colonna of cancan fame, a good many points and beaten her with ease.

The dance was a melange of a minuet and an Irish jig with a dash of the Scotch reel thrown in. In the delicate grace of the steps we recognized traces of the bolero and the attitude suggested a close study of the saraband and rigadone.

The erect posture and the skilful way in which the feet were crossed in the forward step, with two beats on each foot, bore unmistakable evidence of education in the horn pipe and the reel In short the dance was the poetry of motion itself and was a combination of all the Terpsichorean graces. Our representative was honored by an invitation to join the merry dance with the old lady pn question, in a "Gavotte" but he had to relinquish the offer with a sigh of regret for departed agility, and with a painful remembrance of the growing infirmities of age and the silver threads that streak his auburn locks. Another wonderful old lady then "took the flure," when the rector, for whose veracity we have the most profound respect, declared to be one hundred and two years old.

Before beginning to skip on the light fantastic toe she had to be relieved of two

large burdens of "good things'* wrapped in handkerchiefs, and which she carried "a la John Gilpin," at the waist. She danced, positively danced like a ”two-year-old" with the weight of over a century of years upon her head. "We repeat that we have the most profound respect for the Rector as veracious Minister, to whom the juvenile Washington could not hold a candle, but that venerable female centenarian, dancing a fandango, after consuming several pounds avoirdupois, of good solid beef and pudding, with half a dozen bananas and oranges thrown in, not to mention sundry square junks of boiled yam, and a plate of rice and pease - this strains our confidence to such an extent that a glance at that old dame's birth-certificate can alone restore our child-like faith.

One hundred and two - and after an aldermanic feed, washed down by copious libations of ginger-beer - to waltz round like a Columbine at a Drury Lane Pantomime! "Why - it's - it's rather a large camel to swallow; is it not? We did not like to offend the old lady by looking at her teeth - for she had teeth, we feel sure - for how otherwise could she have consumed all that beef - bolted it – oh! Nonsense! There is no doubt this century-old dame had a set of teeth equal to Comer de Miller's best but she had lost her marks, and we should have got no information as to her age from this source. Anyhow she danced like - - well, words fail us for a comparison. We were going to say like the devil - but we never saw his satanic Majesty except in the shape of an empty purse. In short the whole entertainment was of a successful character and the arrangements reflect the highest credit on Mr. Downer's powers of organisation and his zeal for his poorer congregationalists.

We must not omit to mention the care and attention bestowed on the aged guests by the ladies of the Parish Church, who waited at table with promptness and assiduity. We can only say that we hope in their case, the proverb will be fully realised, of "Everything comes to those who wait - or know how to wait.” Mr. Downer has fitted up the open ground to the west of the Conversorium, as a play ground with swings, see-saws etc.

the worthy frog