The Farm at Tiaro

          We travelled to the farm by utility of course, Dad making several trips. Our first glimpse was favourable, looking down from the road we could see the farm in front of us and the river flats beyond a patchwork of brown and green. The farm was dotted with yellow flowering trees. Ian and Bob and I were in one of the first trips and we had been given our lunch and left to explore while Dad went back for more goods and more people. We enjoyed our exploration of the home paddock with it’s creek that flowed into the river, and we went under the railway bridge (Jim’s father had helped to build it, I found out many years later) There was a lovely clear water creek, running over stones.

 A fire had gone through the trees on the bank at some time, and Mr Nelleman (the farm owner) had planted pumpkins, simply by scattering the seeds into the ashes. The vines had grown up the trees and there were pumpkins hanging from the branches. At a later date, we found that the locals were picking these pumpkins that were “just growing wild” so Dad organised for all of us to go and harvest them. They were stored under the house on boards with plenty of air space between them.

We had our lunch by this creek and were delighted to find a tortoise living there.

We moved to Tiaro at the beginning of 1953, my sub-junior year. Jean would have been in sub-senior so I suppose she must have boarded in town. Marion would have been nursing – doing her training at St Stephen’s private hospital, and living in the nurses’ quarters.She rode a a Bantam BSA 150 cc motorcycle. (no helmets in those days) She remembers one time when she rode home at night in the rain stopping and pushing the bike through water over the road. She got as far as Chinaman's Creek - really flooded, so went all the way back to the hospital. Next morning, sun shining, no water anywhere, and a smooth ride home.

          I was to live at home on the farm and and go to school in Maryborough in the rail motor. The problem was that the rail motor got us to town about half an hour after school had started. That meant missing the first period. Any attempt to have the rail motor travel earlier was blocked by the teacher who got on at Gympie and travelled along to his one teacher school. Quite a few primary school children travelled one or two stops to their schools. Miss Adamson, the head mistress, told Mum that missing the first period was unacceptable, and that I would have to board in town.

          Mum replied, “Oh well, if we can’t get what we want for Alison here, we will just have to send her to PGC” (The girls college in Warwick where Mum had gone to school herself). 

My scholarship results must have been good enough to impress, because Miss Adamson backed down and said, “Well, I suppose you could give it a try.”

One of the lessons I missed was Maths B (geometry). I asked the teacher, Miss Carnegie, for some extra work to do, and she lent me a book. One day when I came to school I was getting dirty looks from all the girls. In the lunch period they told me what had happened. Miss Hunter had taken over this class at some point and during the lesson I missed she had gone over the exam results in that subject, saying, “No one got this right except, Alison Burgess.” Over and over again. The exam had been set by Miss Carnegie out of the book she had lent me. When I gave it back at the end of the year she said, ”Oh, I forgot I had given you that!”

It may have partly been because of this episode that Gwenda Garrett was soon coming to school on the rail motor with me. Later on Ian and Bob and Alan Garrett also came in to school in the motor. Closer to the big exams of Junior and Senior, I did board in town. I remember Bob saying at one time that he has taken up smoking once. It was a surprise to me. “Oh,” he said, “I gave it up again before the next station”

When Dad was deciding what tractor to buy, I asked the kids on the train. Their verdict was the Ferguson, The Farmall was too dangerous. I passed this information on to Dad.

“What about the Farmall?” he asked.

“The front wheels are too close together. It could tip over.”

“Yes that could be right.”

So we bought the Ferguson. I was impressed that Dad had listened to what I had said.

Sometimes I ran late for the rail motor and had to run after it to the station. I guess that was when the driver worked out where I lived. When I had a sore ankle he said, “Ger back in and I’ll take you home.” He stopped right in front of the house. Next day Mum was waiting for us beside the live with a big bag of peas from the garden.

Dad had used the tractor to plough up a patch of ground beside the house yard. Then we carted lots of cow manure from the yards and fenced it off from the chooks (who were really free range) and the cows. Mum grew a lot of our vegetables there, including corn and rockmelons.

Some time later we had a acting head mistress from Brisbane while Miss Adamson was away sick. We were hauled up before her for coming in late.

“But that is the time the rail motor get us here.”

“Well get an earlier train.”

“But there isn’t one!”

She couldn’t get over the fact that a rail motor that brought shoppers to the town was the only one available. Now-a-days there isn’t even that, and there is no railway station at Tiaro either.

Living on the farm meant no more holidays by the sea. Our job during the holidays was looking after the irrigation of the improved pasture on the river flats. The boys drove the tractor down and hooked the power take-off to the pump. We set up the sprays to water the paddock, then, an hour later shifted them to the next area. In the meantime we spent the time swimming in the river. Later on we had a canoe, on the river. Mum suggested the canoe. She had enjoyed having one on the Condamine when she was a girl. Dad was against it. Two of his siblings had died of drowning. At last it arrived. Made to Dad’s design it had two floats (torpedos, we called them) one on each side, so that even full of water it would float. (the floats were made of down pipe, but were not as fat as Dad had asked for). No one was allowed in the canoe unless they could swim all the way across the river. I was not a good swimmer, I never did learn how to breathe when doing free style, but Ian had taught me to breast stroke, and I could do that forever, but not fast. Lex had to learn to swim, so that he could go in the canoe. I learned very quickly!

We had lots of fun with the canoe. Ian and I paddled upstream on day for quite a long way until we came to shallows where we would have had to carry it for a while. We decided it was time to come home. Once when the river was in flood, we took the canoe to get Mum some lemons from a tree that grew on the creek bank. We paddled right across to the other side of the river being carried down stream by the current. On the other side we dragged it upstream well passed the farm before paddling madly to get home again. We never told the family about this adventure.

Eventually the canoe was lost. Jacko was visiting (the young brother of one of Jean’s boyfriends). When Mum saw the boys coming home looking dejected she feared the worst, and was quite relieved to know it was the canoe, and not Jacko who had been lost to the river. It had gone down, and one of the floats had come loose and risen to the surface. The boys dived and dived but were not able to find it. If the floats had been as big as Dad wanted, one would have been enough to hold it up.

Mr Nelleman who owned the farm before us had two daughters who were born deaf. They had been away to deaf school and could sign and lip read. We knew one of them as Mrs Gee.

This family had no car or tractor. Mr Nelleman’s father before him had supplied horses for Cobb and Co when they ran stage coaches bringing gold and passengers from Gympie to Maryborough. They always changed to fresh horses at Tiaro. Mr Nelleman had two huge draught horses for ploughing. They were brother and sister and were called Bill and Rose. After we bought the tractor they were sold to the forestry people for hauling timber. A big white cart horse called Noble pulled the spring cart to take the Nellemans to Maryborough for shopping. We rode Noble between the house and the yards and back until he got tired of the game and just refused to budge if we climbed aboard.

Mr Nelleman’s dog Bluey (a blue cattle dog) stayed on the farm with us, but was not included in the sale. He probably wanted to know if we would treat the dog well before he left him with us. Bluey did not work as well for us as he did for Mr Nelleman, but the cows always knew that the dog was there and behaved themselves well. Years later Bluey was succeeded by Nipper. Jim’s parent’s dog, Bonnie Jean had pups and Jim and I gave one to Lex for his birthday. This border collie went will Lex to take the cows out to a paddock on the other side of town after the morning milking. Then Lex went on to school, gave the pony a drink and let him go into the school horse paddock. (He was the only one riding to school at this time). He sent Nipper home, down the hill and across the railway line. In the afternoon Mum called Nipper and said, “Go and find Lex!” and the dog trotted off back up the hill. Lex rode the pony with the dog trotting along and collected the cows for the afternoon milking. Nipper never had to be told again. He was there waiting for Lex every afternoon after school.  We milked fifty cows and sent away the cream to the Gympie butter factory. These days milking herds are from about 600 to 2,000!

Dad bought a pony for the boys to ride. Paddy was a good cow pony and would give a cow a little nip if she refused to move. I was the only member of the family who didn’t really learn to ride. In Mundubbera I was told that Tot was too old, and at Tiaro I was too big for Paddy. Later on Paddy fell when Bob was riding him and it was decided that Ian and Bob had outgrown him. I remember Bob saying much later that the horse they had call Joe was a good horse because he would really go. Bob was sorry when Dad sold him after he, Dad, had a fall off him.

After Jean became a teacher she was assigned to teach at Tiaro school. At this time she was instrumental in starting a PFA (Presbyterian Fellowship Association) group at Tiaro. The church was at the top of the hill next to the farm gate. Young people drove in from farms all round the district. I got the job of looking after the younger ones while the older ones did bible study. (When we first went to Tiaro the minister was Mr Currell. . Mrs Currell had had Gwenda Garett and I teaching Sunday School.) By the time of the PFA it would have been Mr James McNicoll. We sometimes travelled to Maryborough or Gympie to meet up with PFA groups there. Also about this time we started going to PFA camps. It was after a PFA camp at Alexandra Headlands I asked to join the church. We went several times to Easter camp at Magnetic Island. The four of us Marion, Jean, Ian and I were the famous firm of Burgess, Burgess, Burgess and Burgess. The second year we went, Bruce Paterson (we had met him through visits to the Bundaberg PFA) met us at the Bundaberg station. He came aboard and after a while Jean said,

“You had better get off now, the train will be leaving.”

This was met with a big grin. Bruce didn’t get off, he came to camp with us that year.

Jean was transferred to Glen Rae school where we had started. I remember her saying that she had seen our old farm and those high posts we climbed on (there is a photo somewhere of Jean on a high one and me on a smaller one) had shrunk! After she resigned from there she got a job cooking at St Stephen’s hospital, where Marion had done her training.

Marion went to Tasmania to do her midwifery at the hospital in Hobart. When she came home she and Mum were so busy talking that they washed the lunch dishes twice!

In the mean time I was enjoying life at school. In our sub-senior year we had an English teacher called Margaret Harvey. She loved the subject and had all of us loving it also. We put on a play for the school and the parents called “School for Scandal.” I played the part of the old uncle. Miss Harvey brought the costumes up from Brisbane. I think it was a huge success.

There were fourteen of us in the English class when we sat for Senior, an exam set by the University of Queensland. Seven out of the fourteen gained an A for the subject. (the top mark)

After senior I went to Brisbane for one year’s training, and was then a teacher. That will be in my next blog!

Picnic at Munna Creek:

When the Queen came to Queensland in March 1954 she visited Gympie and Bundaberg but not Maryborough, We were granted a public holiday to go and see the Queen, but the Burgess family took advantage of the holiday for a picnic to Munna Creek instead, We travelled in the utility, Mum Dad and Neil in the front – everyone else in the back. Dad had chosen the spot which was on a stock route. There was a big stump, blackened by many campfires, and we picked up sticks – including stringy-bark – and boiled the kettle there. It was a lovely spot, and the creek crossed a concrete ford and fell across the other side in a little water fall. The water was clear there and ran over stones. Dad took me fishing in a big deep shady waterhole and I hooked an eel. Dad landed it and Mum cooked it for tea that night. A day I remember as one of the happiest of my childhood.

Living in Maryborough

Living in Maryborough

 We children travelled in the back of the utility when we moved to Maryborough. Two wire mattresses formed a tent above us(I suppose they were covered with something water proof) and the mattresses were in the back for us to sit on. Marion, Jean, Ian and I were in the back, and Bob in the front with Mum and Dad. Our new home was a lovely big house on five acres of fertile ground at the Island Plantation in Maryborough. There was a creek that ran in a U shape all round the paddock. Water hyacinths grew in the water hole at one end of it and we found that the solid looking mass of green sank into the water when we tried to pick the flowers.

My parents bought a house cow, a very quiet jersey. She was an embarrassment to me though because I was sent to bring her home. She saw me come and headed straight for me. I turned tail and ran, with the cow serenely following me home to be milked. (I would have been about six then).

St Helen’s school had been closed because it was too close to the airport to be safe if the Japs decided to bomb us, and school was held in the local church hall. Again it was a one teacher school all classes in one room. Most of the children were called Baumgart. There were several families of them and when they discussed who would be a girl or boy friend, the criterion was that you could marry a second cousin, but not a first cousin. John Baumgart was a down syndrome boy and I was afraid of him. Neil Baumgart was in my class and I got on well with him. I don’t remember any of the girls. Sunday school was held in the same hall, and the couple who ran it also ran a lolly shop. At the end of the year they held a break up affair when the parents all came. I had to act the part of a poor man, and was asked to bring an old coat to wear. The one my mother supplied was not ragged enough so I had to wear it inside out. Of course there were lollies for us kids then.

Later the St Helen’s school was opened and Mr Crampton was the teacher. He was very strict. We had to march into school after a parade in which we always recited,

“I honour my God,

I serve the king,

I salute the flag” with a military style salute. Every one had to get the right foot on the bottom step as we marched into school. We had little cowrie shells for counters as we learned our tables and did our sums. We had plasticine for one lesson a week. It was brown and hard. My mother brought a stick of green plasticine and I asked to take it to school. I was allowed to take half. Mr Crampton thought that was a great idea, and encouraged the other children to bring their own. The result was that they all had a full stick, while I still had a half.

The Island Plantation was a lovely spot for us children, but it was no good for Dad’s asthma. He was working for Mr Gillham building houses at Granville, and was okay at work, but got sick when he came home. So we moved to Granville and lived in a rented house. Mum hated it. To get in to the house we had to go under the house to the kitchen which was at the back, then go upstairs to the bedrooms and living room. With five children running in and out over the dirt all day the house was never clean! Dad rigged a swing from the rafters so that we could swing in that under the house part.

It meant another change of school, to the Granville school. It was while we were living at Granville that I learned to ride a bike. Marion was the one who taught me, running along holding the back of the seat until I mastered the balance of it. I was immensely proud of the achievement when I could ride to school. One of by brothers (I think it was Ian) was getting doubles when he got his foot caught between the chain and the back sprocket, causing serious damage to his foot. Mum was cleaning the wounds to loud weeping, not from the patient, but from his brother (that would be Bob, if I’m right about Ian)

Dad bought a house at Arrammara and took it down and put it up again in Sussex Street. He preferred not to move the house intact, because he liked to have all the walls straight and square. He chose Sussex Street because it was close to the hospital and his asthma had cleared up when he went to the hospital. Mum said we would move in as soon as it had a roof and a stove. She was very keen to leave the Granville house. So we did move in and Dad finished building the house around us. I remember seeing him fix the weights to the windows in the breakfast room before lining it with boards which had once been floor board but which he had made tongue and grooved. The kitchen and breakfast room made an L shape - part of what had once been a verandah all round the house.

From here we went to the Maryborough West School. I started here in Prep 4, which was the second year of school. I didn’t settle in well. I had had so many changes of school that I was just waiting for the next one, so it took a while to register that this was more permanent.

The following year when I was in Grade 1 I had a traumatic experience. Miss Oliver was very strict about neat work, but my hand/eye coordination was very poor and my work was not up to standard. We were on my least favourite lesson – copybooks – when she said, “you’ll have to do better work than that or I’ll take you round to the headmaster.”

I panicked.

“no, no, no no!” I screamed, hanging on with both hands to the desk in front of me, “I won’t go!”

It had probably been an empty threat, but she could not allow open defiance, so she grabbed my arm and marched me to the headmaster, who was in front of Grade five, the highest grade in the school, and my sister Marion’s class. I was putting out my hand for the cuts, but Mr Fletcher asked why I wasn’t doing neater work.

I replied that I was bumped by my seat mate, an outright lie, the truth was that I was doing the best I could, which wasn’t very good. Marion reported the story at home, and said they were all laughing at me for putting out my hand.

Miss Oliver never forgot me. She taught both Ian and Bob, but whenever she saw Mum down the street she always asked about me, never about the boys.

Another embarrassment in Grade 1 was a lesson in the reading book about a baby koala whose mother had been killed by hunters. The little koala cried just like a baby. I cried too, much to the scorn of the boys in the class.

When I was in Grade 4 I joined the fife band. Mum was reluctant to let me join but Aunty Agnes was visiting and encouraged the idea. I had a red dress at last, the band uniform. I had pleaded for a red dress earlier in my life, but after Mum bought the material she decided the colour didn’t suit me, and I ended up with a navy blue, and Marion had the red as a skirt with straps, as there was not enough material for a full dress for her. However the uniform was a darker red and suited me quite well.

One Easter the band came to Brisbane, and we played at various venues, including a children's home. It was my first experience of a big city, and we had a trip to Lone Pine, playing for the customers on the boat, and seeing koalas. The roses in New Farm Park impressed me too, and I had my first taste of coca cola. When we came home we all had to write an account of the trip. I think that only two of us, myself and the teacher’s son actually completed the task. We were declared joint winners.

By this time I was an avid reader, and one afternoon Mr Fletcher found me in the school library deep in a book at five O’clock in the afternoon. He sent me off home of course, but the following year when the School of Arts library offered the school two bursaries, Mr Fletcher awarded one to me. “Because I know you will use it.” I was able to ride my bike to the library in town and borrow one book at a time for free. My mother limited me to one book a week, because she thought I was cross when I came out of my book back into the real world.

I was still going to this school when Bob got sick. The doctor said, “Polio,” so he was admitted to the isolation ward at the Maryborough Base Hospital. The doctor there disagreed and told my mother he thought it was tetanus. “We can treat him for tetanus, but not for polio.” Mum asked us all to pray for Bob, as he was critically ill. He recovered but was in hospital with no visitors for quite some time. He asked for “pineapple drink” so Mum boiled up pineapple skins with sugar and took it up to him. I had the job of buying an ice-cream at Meridith’s shop across the street from the hospital and handing it to the nurse at the isolation ward each morning on my way to school.

It was while we lived in Maryborough that Lex was born, and six moths before we left, when I was thirteen, Neil came along. I really enjoyed looking after these little ones, and taking them for rides in the pram.

I was not a particularly nice child at this time of my life. I often teased my sister Jean, using my knife to reflect sun into her eyes by “accident”, among other things. When it was time for washing up I usually managed to be nowhere to be found. I didn’t do my set homework of learning spelling and tables, so often got my sums wrong, (how I hated long division, and long multiplication) and I misspelled words in my compositions, although they were quite good in other respects. These faults were not really overcome until I started teaching spelling and tables. It was then that my handwriting also came up to scratch when I had to write in big letters on the black board for the children to copy.

In Mundubbera we had correspondence Sunday School lessons from the Presbyterian Church, taught by Mum. I vaguely remember doing some colouring while she talked to Marion and Jean. When we were going to Sunday School at the Island Plantation and also at Granville Mum was disappointed that we were not learning scripture by heart. She rode a bike to St Stephen’s Presbyterian Church and got some little books of memory work. When we had learned to say all the verses in the book she gave us each a King James Bible. When we moved to Sussex Street we rode the length of the street on our push bikes to Sunday School. 
Each year we had a Sunday school picnic at Pialba. We went there on a special train and everyone wanted Mr McPhail to sit in their carriage. He was great fun and would have us singing choruses all the way there.
It was at a Sunday School picnic that I won the one and only race I ever won in my life. Every other race I ever went in, running or swimming, I came in last. We had a three legged race, and the teacher partnered me with a lass who really could run. So my left ankle was tied to her right one and she put her arm around my waist and pulled me along the race track. I had never run so fast in all my life. Our prize was a covered coat hanger each.
The Sunday School gave marks for attendance, memory work, church attendance, (we had a ‘Young Worshipper’s League’ booklet, and were given a sticker as we went into church. We stayed for the first part of the service, then went home before the sermon), and for an annual exam. I usually managed to score at least one book prize at the end of the year. However none of this really impacted much on my life.
The change came when I was about twelve years old and someone told me scornfully, “you’re not a Christian, you tell lies.”

I realised that this was true on both counts, and went off by myself and really prayed for the first time in my life. The prayer went something like, “God I want to be a Christian, if you will have me!” I was certain that His answer was “Yes!” Some time later we had a visiting evangelist come to preach in our church. At the end of his sermon he invited anyone who wished to give his/her life to Jesus to come to the front. Much to the horror of my mother, who did not approve of this style of teaching, I got up and walked to the front. Later my sister Marion gave me a book of daily Bible readings saying, “I found this helpful for me.” So began my walk with the Lord.

One of the changes I noticed was that I stopped telling deliberate lies. One afternoon I came home to find an oven tray full of Anzac biscuits on the kitchen table. I helped myself to two biscuits and a cup of milk. When Mum came home there were no biscuits left.
"Who ate all the biscuits?"
Instead of saying "Not me!" I said, "I had two." 
Then the other children all piped up. "I had two." "I had three"
"Oh, well," said Mum, "If you all had some, that is okay. That's what they were for."
 Also I discovered that if I picked up a tea towel when Mum was washing up I got her all to myself and we could have a good chat. My life definitely improved for the better.

When I finished Grade 5 I left Maryborough West and went to the Maryborough Girls State High School. Apart from the Domestic Science school in Brisbane, I think this was the only Girl’s State High School in Queensland. There had been two private schools the Girls’ Grammar on one side of Kent Street and the Boys’ grammar on the other side. When the state government took over the schools the lady teachers at the girl’s school did not want to teach boys, so it was left as a girl’s school until they had retired. We had very good teachers at that school. My teacher for the next two years was Miss St Ledger, and I was in a class of 48 girls. On the first day when I had finished the set sums, I took my book out to her at the front of the class. We were seated in order of ability, best marks at the back, lowest marks at the front of the room. I said, “I have finished,”

She said, “are they all right?”

“I don’t know”

“Well go and ask your mates at the back of the room. Compare your answers and see where you have made mistakes. I have to get all these girls through the scholarship exam.” She gestured at the two front seats.

It was the best lesson anyone ever taught me at school. We formed a study group and helped each other all the way through high school, not only improving our school work but building strong friendships at well. The scholarship was an external exam and passing it entitled us to two more years of schooling. Then the next hurdle was Junior, if we passed that we could go on to Senior. I really enjoyed going to this school and formed some great friendships there.

In our free time in Maryborough we were really free. We made cubbies in the nearby “bush” – vacant allotments which had been cleared but regrown with lots of young saplings. One type (box, I later learned) was easily broken and made great huts. We rode our bikes all over the place and when a fire had gone through the bush we boiled a billy over a burning log and roasted potatoes in the ashes. One day we rode our bikes as far as Torbanlea. Marion and Jean and I, and probably Ian and Bob too I think. We counted it a great achievement.

Dad was building at his time, first in partnership and later on his own. We had some great holidays. One was at Urraween, part way to the Bay (I think the house belonged to Dad’s partner). There were lots of lane ways lined with bushes in which we found nests of double-bars (finches with two stripes under the chin). There was an abandoned quarry which made a great play ground and was full of wild raspberries.

Another year we rented a house at Point Vernon, while the owners were away. We found oysters on the rocks – I would have one or two then feed the rest to my brothers. I thought they tasted like snot, and still don’t enjoy them.

After that Dad was building a ‘spec’ house on land he had bought at Pialba. We camped in the garage on bunks which Dad made along the walls, and Mum and Dad were in the caravan next door. On Christmas Eve we hung up our stockings (old ones of Mum’s with ladders in them) and put our presents for Mum and Dad in a small port with a message. ”Dear Santa, please leave these at the caravan next door”

 The following year this house had been finished, but the one next to it was in progress and we slept there on mattresses on the floor. That year we brought home a sapling for a Christmas tree. Dad and Mr Christian (who was living across the road) went off and found a better one -  a she oak that looked like a Christmas tree. We decorated it with paper streamers and plums which looked like the decorations we had seen in shops. We all brought presents for each other and put them on the tree. The next morning we waited until after breakfast then all sat round and opened presents one by one. Dad said he liked it this way, because he got to see us all opening our presents. So from then on it was a Christmas tree in our family, rather than hanging up stockings. So now you will realise that this is a custom that I borrowed from my parents!

Again we roamed freely. Ian and Bob and I rode bikes up to Urraween to revisit our old haunts. We had half a pineapple each, and bread and butter and treacle for lunch. By the time we had eaten the pineapples, we found that the treacle stung our tongues, so finished with just bread and butter. Another time we followed a dirt road through the bush and ended up at Eli Creek. We came back by the beach, but when I was running through long grass I stood on a broken bottle and cut my foot badly – I still have the scar. Dad took me to the doctor who stitched and dressed the cut. He asked Dad if he wanted me to have a tetanus injection. Dad said, “Yes please, we nearly lost one child with tetanus.”

Soon after this we left Maryborough for Tiaro. Mum said that either her yard was full of all the neighbourhood children, or else she didn’t know where her kids were. Dad said he was raising a lot of townies. His boys didn’t know how to ride a horse or milk a cow. Mum and Dad started looking for a farm and found it at Tiaro. But that is another story.

Early Years, Mundubbera.

Early years

I was born at the hospital in Mundubbera in Queensland. My parents wanted a boy, but I was the third girl, and that was a disappointment. The doctor couldn’t see that it should be, he had boys and no girls! I think my mother may have prayed for a boy, because after me there were four boys, the youngest one, Neil, born when I was thirteen years old.

I don’t remember it, but when I was two my mother, my two sisters and I had a holiday at Scarness. Marion and Jean built sandcastles and I knocked them down, so I was not very popular. On the way home to the farm at Mundubbera my mother heard that the second world war had begun. 

As a child I had no memory of “before the war”, and thought of it like the dream time, and “after the war” was even more fanciful. To me there had always been a war, and so there always would be.

My father was an asthmatic, so was not even eligible for the home guard. The war did not impinge very much on our lives on the farm except that some things were hard to come by. Toys, for example, were not commercially manufactured. A lady called Janet Arthy made toys for all the children at the one teacher school and these were presented on breaking up day, when the school closed for the Christmas holidays. I remember Marion getting a set of doll’s table and chairs, and I was given a soft toy cat which I called Felix. I also had a wooden wheelbarrow which my father made and a soft toy elephant which my mother made from scraps left over from an overcoat which she made for me.

We had a trike from “before the war”, but it had lost it’s rubber tyres and was almost impossible to ride on the dirt or gravel. (There was no concrete area available).

I remember watching Nonnie arrive in his utility. His real name was Mr Norman, and he collected the cans of cream and also brought mail. He always had lollies for us children.

My sisters rode a pony to school. Her name was Tot. I pleaded to have a ride and was helped aboard. No one told me what to do when I got up there, and Tot wandered off to eat some grass. I seem to remember my sister laughing at my uselessness. I am the only one in the family who didn’t learn to ride a horse. Tot was too old, we were told, and by the time I went to school we all walked. After we left the farm she had a foal called Tiny, so she really couldn’t have been all that old.

          We had a dog called Woolly, an English sheep dog, who was a real child’s pet. Dad had a cattle dog called Barney and wouldn’t let us play with him. He was a working dog, and definitely Dad’s. Dad often brought in the cows in the dark in winter time, so as to get and early start on the day. One night he had occasion to go to the outback toilet during the night. In the morning he found all the cows in the yard and Barney sitting in the gateway waiting for Dad to put up the rails.

          We used to play in the horse paddock which was full of milk thistles. One day we dared to creep through the fence into the bull paddock. We sat there in the long grass trembling until we heard a noise then raced back under the fence again. The bull was a big black Jersey called Peter, and we were right to be scared of him. When Jean left her coat on the fence another time Peter tossed it in the air with his horns, stamped on it and gored it. Just as well there was no child inside it!

          Marion and Jean found some jelly crystals on top of a high cupboard and we took them up to the horse paddock and had a picnic on them. I got upset over something and ran crying to Mum, jelly crystals from ear to ear. Jean and Marion were in trouble but not me, much to Jean’s disgust. Mum reckoned I was too small to get the jelly crystals from the high cupboard, so I was not at fault.

          Dad had built a herring bone type dairy. The cows were on a higher level to the workers, and the one set of cups reached four cows, two on each side. It meant that a whole shed full of cows were milked then the big doors opened and they all came out at once. One day I was in front of the doors when that happened and was terrified when they all headed out towards me.

          Dad had decided to build a house on the back of the farm and then sell off the front paddock and existing house. We went out there a few times and played hide and seek in the bush while the men worked on the house. We walked up a bottle tree which had been cut down. It was possible to climb up on the top end and walk up to the cut end. It seemed very high when we looked over the edge.

          One Saturday when the men were not around and the car was missing, Jean, Ian and I set out to walk out to where the new house was being built and get a ride home in the back of the utility. We got there only to find the place deserted and had to walk all that long way back. It was dark before we got home and Dad met us with a push bike. The men had been in to town to vote. Jean had been carrying Ian, and Dad put him on the bike to wheel him home. I remember being very, very tired as I trailed along behind everyone else.

          We had a cat called Slippers because of her white feet. This became Sippy to the children. Sippy was a great cat. Jean had climbed onto a fence post and was afraid to come down, but was too far away for Mum to hear her crying. Sippy went to get Mum. She just meowed until Mum followed her.

          The teacher at the school was pregnant and got leave. There was no one to take her place and the school would have closed down, but Mum took on the job for a while. So when I started school Mum was my teacher. I think there were six children in my class. Some were McDonalds from the next farm to ours, some were Mallets, and there was a Jimmy Christian. Christians had the farm on the other side from McDonalds. I got teased for walking home from school hand in hand with Jimmy Christian.

          Dad had a fall while working on the new house, and ended up in hospital. Because of his asthma, the doctor recommended that he give farming away. The farm was sold to the McDonalds on terms, so that we got payment in dribs and drabs.

          The years in Maryborough will be a separate blog.

My Father's Diary 1929

ON THE WALLABY TRACK
A notebook kept by
Norman Burgess
September – December 1929


Wednesday September 11th
Arrived in Gympie yesterday with the intention of looking at some dairy farms. Saw a few land agents, & got particulars. Would have inspected some but last night turned out cold & windy & today is likewise; had a rather bad attack of asthma so have now made up my mind to go still further North, as I understand that the climate here is generally cooler than in Brisbane. I tried all the land agents also builders here for work in order to pay my fare to the next place but to no avail.
Friday 13th
Arrived in Mackay last night. Saw manager PP Bank who promised to cash cheques etc. Also interviewed some agents this morning. Find there is a butter factory here in course of erection. Sugar cane growing is the chief industry. There is not much dairying done at present. Have got Mr. Arbuthnot’s address and will probably go out to see him this afternoon. 
Saturday 14th
Went out to Arbuthnot’s place yesterday afternoon, had intended to stay at General Gordon Hotel, which I had been informed was “a bit rough”. On seeing it I hoped I would never see a really rough place. However I left my pack there and went on to the house, getting a lift from a fruit vendor. Mr Arbuthnot was at home on his own and after I made myself known to him he told me that Mrs A and Isabelle were visiting and would not be home till sundown. He made me afternoon tea and then showed me about the place until the others came along. He then brought Isabelle round to see me without telling her who I was, and she got a great surprise. Young Mrs. Arbuthnot was there too and I met Alex A also. They insisted on my staying the night with them and young Mrs A drove me down to the hotel and back with my port. They have a new Ford. The bus back passes their place at about 8 am but Isabelle said that was too early and got Alex to speak to a neighbour who was coming in at about 1 O’clock and I got a ride with him.
After tea Isabelle played the piano and sang some songs and we talked a good deal about old times.
This morning Alex lent me a pony and took me to look at some land which he considered the best for dairying in that locality. Altogether they were most kind and hospitable and I was very pleased to have met them. Isabelle also gave me a letter of introduction to a local builder.
Monday 16th
Went out yesterday to see a district about 40 miles from here called Silent Grove with Mr. Story or Storie of I J Leonard & Co. Besides the car driver we were accompanied by a Mr. Kearney, a CIB man. We left here about 7 am and travelled along the North Coast Line as far as Mt Ossa. From there we turned to the left and were then in Silent Grove. This country is more suitable for dairying than any I have seen so far in the Mackay district. We inspected one place before lunch and then travelled a few miles before stopping for lunch. After lunch we went on to a selector’s place.  His name is Collins. The property has been occupied for about 5 years and is now a fairly good dairy farm. I am going to stay  a few days with him in order to get a better  insight into local conditions. After seeing this place we went on to Kungurrie and then back to Mackay doing a round trip of  95 miles.
Wednesday 18th September
I called on Mrs. Gibson on Monday afternoon. Mr. Gibson was away further North. I came out to Silent Grove yesterday morning to stay with Mr. Collins here to get a better knowledge of farming conditions. This is one of the few districts around Mackay where dairyfarming is carried on. It seems to me that the price asked for land around here is much too high considering the undeveloped state that it is in. The people around here are living in conditions of pioneering which I hardly expected to find in a district so well populated and so prosperous generally. To get here, I had to catch a train which left Mackay at 2.15 am on Tuesday night. It arrived at Kungurrie at about 8 O’clock having travelled a distance of 34 miles. The last 4½ miles were travelled in a motor truck which was being used to cart cane to and from the station and I got here around 9 am after a very slow trip. I got some new experience today, having used the brush hook for the first time.
Thursday 19th September
Mrs. Collins left early this morning for Mackay where she intends staying a few days. She took the twin boys with her. They are somewhere about four years old and as wild as dingoes. I did not get a close look at either of them until last night and then they kept their faces hidden. Mr. Collins went with them to Kungurrie leaving young Dennis and me to milk the cows. There was one aged cow down and unable to get up that had to be killed and Dennis went to get a neighbour to help him kill it while I went on with the milking.  While they were proceeding with their job the neighbour’s dog was bitten by a black snake. Then there was great excitement. They came to me and asked if I had any Condy’s crystals. Luckily I had and I got on a horse and galloped up to the house for them. They lanced the bite and rubbed some of the crystals on. The dog is still very sick and it is doubtful if he will pull through.
There seems to be a good deal of trouble with the cattle here owing to them eating coarse dry grass and failing to properly digest it. The result is a disorder known as “dry bible”. Cattle in fair condition die of it.
The district is suffering quite a drought. People’s house tanks are empty and they have to cart water from the creeks. These people are lucky in that the creek water is almost as soft and clear as rain water.
Saturday 21st September
On Thursday night I went down to Mr. Smith’s place to help some cane cutters to burn cane.  We got the patch burned all right and young Dennis and  I came home leaving the others to look after the fire. I think they had some rum and were drinking, anyway the fire got away and burned some more cane, also some grass country. Yesterday it broke out again and burned fiercely in the forest country. Mr. Nilson’s cane across the creek got on fire somehow and was all burned. I ran down as soon as I knew it was on fire in case there was someone there trying to save any of it,  but there was no one about and the only good I could do was to chase a cow out of the field.
I borrowed a horse from Mr. Collins to come down to see Mr. Dimmock’s place. I left at about 12 O’clock. It was the worst horse I ever rode and had to be flogged pretty well all the way. I called at a camp to ask the way and stumbled onto a job. It is heaping logs in burned scrub and is known as logging up. The wages are a little over 18/- per day. I intend to start on Tuesday and I left some of my luggage at the camp. Coming on, I heard a dog yelping and went to investigate. He was caught in a wallaby snare. I released him and continued the terrible journey. I arrived at Dimmocks place at about 4.30 pm, and found no one in so came on to Wilsons place where I am now, to ask for lodgings for the night.
I went up and saw Mr. Dimmock this morning, and then I had asked a Mr. Martin who was going to Mackay today to pick me up, but he did not put in an appearance so I am stranded, perhaps until Monday. I want to get to Mackay as most of my luggage is there and I wish to buy some blankets and clothes etc. The whole family has gone to a surprise party and I am left here with an old one-armed chap. Nothing to do except write a letter. 
Wednesday September 25
Did not get to Mackay until Monday morning. Bought some blankets, working clothes and an axe. These were to be delivered at the railway station but were not there when the train left so I left the ticket with the porter who promised to send them on to Mt Ossa. I arrived at Mt Ossa too late to catch the loco up here and had to leave my ports there and walk up as far as Dimmocks where I camped the night. I came on yesterday morning and started work yesterday afternoon, logging up. I went over to Martins place last night to see if my luggage had come but it had not. When the moon rose at midnight I got up and walked down to the tramway terminus, a distance of 4½ miles.The two ports were there so I carried them back, arriving here at about 4 O’clock. 
I did another half day’s logging up, and then at Mr Martin’s request went on to cane planting with a mattock at 4/6 per hundred. I got 200 this afternoon.
Sunday 29th
Have continued cane planting all week. There was another man named Leslie on the job with me. I have improved at the game and can now make good wages provided the supply of plants is kept up. We were short a couple of times last week.
There are five other men in the camp. These are on the logging job and will probably be finished next week. We live a very simple life. Rising early in the morning we have breakfast and get to work by sunrise. Then in a couple of hours’ time we have “smoko” or morning tea. At twelve we have dinner and a good spell. During the afternoon another “smoko” and cease work just after sunset. Then we all go to the creek and have a bath. The loggers-up get especially black. Stripped and lined up in the creek they look like a lot of niggers.
The fare is fairly simple. Coffee and bacon for breakfast with bread and jam or golden syrup. For dinner and tea just bread and meat and potatoes with a stew occasionally and sometimes a damper when we run out of bread. We lately discovered some prickly cucumbers growing wild and these are good eating. One of the men, Long Harry, is a professional cook, but does not get much time to use his talents in this direction.
The parcel of goods from Mackay has not yet turned up so I am going to look for it in the morning. I am now at Mt Ossa, having walked down from the camp. I brought a rug and overcoat also some beef and damper and will camp here tonight.
Thursday October 3rd
I did not have to camp out on Sunday night. A bachelor who lives nearby came for water and on learning that I intended to camp, invited me to occupy a spare bunk in his hut. I went to Mackay and found that the parcel had been sent to Mt Ossa all right and has probably been stolen. I therefore placed the facts in the possession of Mr Kearney who said he would do his best but held out little hope of recovering it. While there I made a statement to the police proving that I was not Walter James Burgess of Queensland who is wanted for not registering his motorcycle.
The loggers finished their contract today. They allowed me for my day’s work. My share of the tucker bill to date is £2/2/6. They are at  the present moment away collecting their cheques. In the morning one of them will be cane planting with us. Our job will probably be cut out by the end of next week if the weather keeps fine.
Wednesday October 9th
 I am still on the cane planting job but will probably be leaving here on Tuesday morning. I got a letter from Joe Sandilands yesterday saying that he was in Mackay and hoped to see me, so I went down to the telephone and rang him up. I could not get a letter to him until Monday. He has been down Mundubbera way, has a pretty poor opinion of the country down there. I am glad he came for it is pretty stale having no mate in one of these camps or travelling about.
Thursday October 17th
Am now in Mackay. I came in on Tuesday and joined Joe. We have decided to go to the Atherton Tableland and have a look around there. We leave by the Townsville Mail late this afternoon.
Sunday October 20th
Arrived in Cairns on Friday evening. Saw Bob Stewart from Warwick who is teaching in a school here. Joe and I went to a lodge meeting on Saturday night and were given a royal time.
Cairns is a pretty town and seems prosperous. The climate is good. We spent about an hour in Townsville on Friday morning. It is also very pretty, and is about as big as Toowoomba.
Tuesday October 22nd
We arrived in Atherton yesterday. On the way we saw the famous Barron Falls. Owing to the dry weather there is not as much water flowing over them as usual.After arriving we went to a hotel for dinner and got into a conversation with a man who said he was going to Millaa Millaa and offered us a lift to there, a distance of about 30 miles. We took advantage of the offer and got here last about 6 O’clock. We next interviewed Mr. West with a view of leasing a dairy farm as a going concern. He has nothing he can offer just at present but took us with him on some of his trips on other business through the country. The country here is well grassed and beautifully green.  Contrary to my previous conceptions, the place is fairly hilly to steep in places. There is a butter factory in course of construction at Millaa Millaa.
We are staying at the local hotel. The show is to be held here next Friday and Saturday. We will most likely stay for that and are trying to get some work.
Wednesday October 23rd
Saw Mr. Mears who is building the local butter factory and was engaged to start tomorrow morning as a carpenter. As my tools were in Atherton I went in for them this morning by rail motor. It was my first ride in one of these. It is cleaner and allows a better view than the ordinary carriage. I could not send the tools on the rail motor so sent them on by goods train ahead. They got here all right.
Sunday 27th October
Started work on Thursday. The job may last for some time. The show was a great success. Particularly the cattle sections. The ball last night was good too. We both went and enjoyed it fairly well though we only knew two girls besides the maids from the hotel. The girls we knew were the Misses Wolley, daughters of a local dairyman. We met them earlier in the week. Today we spent quietly reading and sleeping. We have joined a local library.
Pictures are being shown in the theatre tonight.
Sunday November 3rd
I have been working at the factory all the week. Mr. Mears seems all right to work for. He leaves me pretty well to myself and has put me in charge of another man, an old Russian. He is a good worker but is a bit hard to understand and sometimes misunderstands what I say. 
I suffered from blistered hands for a few days, having eight of them on one hand. The local ambulance man gave me a remedy.
Joe has not been doing any work but has been having a good look around. He will be working all next week probably, having a pig yard to build and some road work for the council. We are also giving a price for adding to a cottage and I will leave most of that to him if out price is accepted. We spent all of today being driven about by Mr. West and saw some good properties. Today is the 28th anniversary of my birthday.
Sunday 10th
Have been working at the factory all the week. Today we inspected a property at Peeramon or rather 7 miles out. It seems a good proposition so I secured an option on it. Will probably take it unless something better turns up. The price I gave for the additions to the house on Mr. McHugh’s farm has been accepted and I think I will give the factory job up and get straight on with it.
Wednesday 13th November
I have made an offer to the Eacham Pastoral Company as agents for Mr. Druce, owner of the farm near Peeramon as per option already given but subject to an alteration to the effect that the interest on the remaining £1,200 shall be 6% insterad of 7%. I made out a cheque for £100 which is to be part of the deposit should Druce agree to the alteration, but to be returned to me if he refuses to do so. I got a receipt signed by Mr. Johnson stating these conditions for it.
Sunday 17th
We went to a lodge meeting last night. Lodge Millaa had its annual Installation meeting and banquet. It is a good lodge considering the size of the place and the banquet would have done justice to any gathering. There were about sixty present.
Mr. Johnson informed me last night that Mr. Druce has changed his mind about selling his place and in order to defeat the option already given has increased his overdraft at the bank by drawing a cheque for £400.
Joe and I started adding to the cottage on Mr. McHugh’s farm on Friday. We are to receive £20 from Mr. McHugh and £5 from Mr. West as agent for the tenant.
Monday 18th
We went out with Mr. West last night and saw a Mr. Gray about sub leasing a property from him. His terms briefly are £860 for pick of 60 cows from herd of 71, pigs, plant etc. We instructed Mr. West to proceed with the deal without further delay. I went to Mr. Johnson tonight and got my cheque back and destroyed same.
Sunday 29th
We went out to Gray’s place on Friday night and signed up a Sale Note thus clinching the deal. I paid in a cheque for £100 to Hardings Ltd. Have agreed to pay a further £200 on Decemder 23rd. Joe puts in his £300 in January thus making £600. The remaining £250 is being advanced by Hardings Ltd at 8% interest.
We have got on fairly well with the addition job though I was a bit off colour for a couple of days owing to the heat on the day I put the iron on the roof. We take over Gray’s lease on the first of December. I will be leaving for Brisbane probably on Tuesday next week.
Saturday 14th December
I left Millaa Millaa on Tuesday Dec 3rd as I expected. Went to Yungaburra by rail motor and from there to Cairns by service car which traversed the beautiful scenic range road and Mulgrave Valley. Also we stopped for morning tea at Lake Barrine. Caught the Townsville train at 8.45 on Wednesday morning and arrived in Brisbane on Friday about noon. I stayed in Brisbane until the following Tuesday when I went home to see my people. I also called on Mr. Sandilands on Wednesday morning and came back to Brisbane the same day. 
While in Brisbane I have been enjoying myself very much. Yesterday was spent at Wellington Point, a place I had not been to before.
Note: In the end it was only Joe who settled in Millaa Millaa. Norman bought a farm in the Mundubbera area. He and Mary Sandilands became engaged after this trip, and were married in 1932.

Recipe for Sunbeams.

Margaret asked the recipe for Sunbeams, I had to ask but my sister Marion supplied it.
Sunbeams:
One tablespoon butter,
two tablespoons sugar,
1 cup flour,
1 egg,
1 teaspoon baking powder.
Mix sugar with flour, rub in butter, add egg, roll out, spread with apricot jam, roll up, cut into slices, and bake in moderate oven.

My Mother

A Mother’s Wisdom

I have been reading the biography of a father and the wisdom he passed on to his son[1]. It got me thinking, a son learns most from his father, but a daughter learns from her mother. This prompts me to write of the things my mother taught me.

When I was a toddler I helped make the beds. We played lumps. Mother would throw the sheet over me and feel me through it, rubbing her hands over the sheet. “What’s this lump?” her hands explored my shape as I collapsed in a giggling heap on the bed. Later I helped smooth the sheets and blankets and turn down the top.
Mother taught all seven of her children cooking. We began by making “sunbeams”. We mixed together the sugar butter and eggs, then we rolled out the dough, spread it with jam and rolled it up into a big sausage shape. Then we cut the whole thing into slices, put the slices onto the greased oven tray and watched while it disappeared into the oven of the wood stove.[2] Yum! How we loved them! We loved to help in the kitchen and progressed to making custard, gravy, milk puddings, boiled fruit cake and pumpkin scones.
We learned not to be afraid of storms. This was a great achievement on my mother’s part, as she herself was terrified of them. Not until we had children of our own did she admit to this. Then she told us how, when she was small, she had been looking from the window when a bolt of lightning had struck the fence where a group of horses was standing. There was a huge clap of thunder and at the same instant all the horses fell down dead.
As a child, knowing nothing of this, I loved storms. “Go and watch the storm from the window,” my mother would say. I realise now that there were no animals in view from that window, and that she wanted to divert our attention from herself. She went on with the chores in seeming calm. I caught the note of excitement in her voice but I never guessed at the effort it took for her to still the trembling in her hands as she peeled those potatoes for tea.
By example Mother taught us love. As the younger children arrived one by one we helped in many small ways with their care and counted it a great privilege to be able to “nurse the baby” as we sat on the floor carefully surrounded with pillows.
At bed-time Mother tucked us in and taught us to pray before we slept. I did the same with my own children asking them, "What is the best thing that happened today?" and then giving thanks for it.
Church attendance was another thing our mother taught us. In the early days on the farm, there was no church near enough so she gathered us around her for “Sunday School” – simple lessons with drawing and scripture verses to learn by heart. Later in town we went to church and Sunday School, and still Mother encouraged us to memorise Scripture, Psalms and poetry. The twenty-third psalm has helped me in many tough places in my life.
One of the best lessons she passed on was one she learned from her own father, a godly man I never met. As a teenager my mother had rebelled against going to church, since the preacher at that time had been discovered in immoral conduct.
“I’m not going to church while he is preaching!” she declared.
“Well,” replied her father, “I don’t go to church to worship the minister!”
Mum went. It is another lesson that has stood me in good stead!
Last of all Mother taught us not to fear old age. She herself, at ninety-three years of age was still visiting and helping the “old folk” in her neighbourhood. Her favourite quote was from Browning:-
“Grow old along with me
The best is yet to be
The last of life for which the first was made.
Youth shows but half, trust God, nor be afraid.”

[1] Big Russ by Timothy Russert
[2] I suspect that this recipe was chosen because there was plenty that small hands could do without help and it kept us happily occupied for some time.