Through the persistent and insistent demands of my family, over years, I have come at last, to make a few recordings of events from 1850. Of course what I set down, and opinions or points of view I might offer, are my own. Another member of the family would possibly tell a different story--although I think most of the historical points can be substantiated. Although I have been pressured to write these notes, I have always contended that our family history has very little, if any, distinctive quality above the average happy unit. Being a large family means that the piece of canvas on which events are drawn is much larger than normal. At my age, I have the advantage of hindsight, and in reviewing past years I am very grateful for the character and principles upon which our home was established. To those of this generation, it will be hard to imagine "the sterner stuff' which was freely accepted and acted upon two or three generations ago. Some attitudes and actions will seem totally unacceptable today, but in those days they were generally approved and rarely questioned. So you will need to read these notes with this in mind. Bits and pieces of the early history have come from various sources, but much of it was impressed on my mind by my mother, who over the years, when I was a boy, talked of some family happenings, and family members. Some older members of the family I never met.

      On my father's side--his parents emigrated to Adelaide by sailing boat in 1850.Mr & Mrs William Jones, were evidently a newly married couple when they set out from Thornbury, Gloucestershire. Embarking at nearby Bristol, they took six months travelling to reach their destination. In our home there hung a picture of 3 or 4 sailing boats, moving up the River Torrens in Port Adelaide and underneath was the inscription "The arrival of Mr & Mrs Wm. Jones in Adelaide in 1850". That picture always fascinated me. It is now in the hands of Warwick Jones of Floreat Park WA who is the eldest son of Dad's eldest son, Hartley.

      When I was in England in 1955, and staying in Cheltenham in the Cotswolds, I took a one day trip by the red double-decker bus to Thornbury about 50 miles distant. It is was a glorious day and the picturesque villages en route a rare delight. Thornbury itself is a fairly normal English village with a winding main street--and as far as I know hasn't any distinctive features apart from the large mansion belonging to the Dukes of Buckingham. Many years ago they sold their modest "town house", Buckingham Palace, to become the Royal Residence in London. I fossicked around the village and tried to imagine life as it was 100 years before and sat beside the old village pump and well which served the village before reticulated water. I also rummaged through marriage registers in the Local Court office but failed to find any record of the marriage of Mr & Mrs Wm. Jones. If the name had been a bit more distinctive it would have been a simpler task. In any case, they

were probably married in a nearby village, whilst Thornbury was the nearest commercial town. Before marriage, Grandma was a Miss White.

      Adelaide, of course, was a very small community in 1850, and apparently they settled at Virginia, which was then a small farming area about 18 miles north of the city. Dad was born at Virginia in January, 1856. It was in this town where Dad learned his trade as a blacksmith. The old 'smithy' where he worked was still in existence beside the main north road when we went by car to WA in 1957 and we stopped and had a look at the historic building and took a photograph of it. Virginia is now an extension of Adelaide suburbs.

      I think the family must have later moved about 20 miles further north to farm at Wild Horse Plains. From there, their family spread to various areas to pursue farming etc. Grandpa and Grandma spent their later years in Unley where they died about 1912-14. They were members of Park St. Unley Church of Christ and when living in Maylands I occasionally preached at Unley and some older members would tell me they were friends of my grandparents.

      The family consisted of

      WILLIAM HENRY, known as Harry--my Dad.

      ALFRED, who farmed throughout life at Wild Horse Plains.

      WILLIAM, farmed at Brim, near Warracknabeal, Victoria, became wealthy and moved to a mansion and property in Geelong, then later to Adelaide. His mostly "never-do-well" family of 4 had bled him financially before he died in early 1940. ALLEN, farmed at Brim. Did well and then retired to Geelong and later to Adelaide.

      FRED, also farmed at Brim, and in poor health, retired to Belair and later Torrens Park. A successful farmer.

      LEWIS, died in young manhood.

      HANNAH, died in young womanhood.

      ANNIE, married Mum's brother Clarence, moved to Kerang, Vic. and died early in life.

      I think there was a history of TB in the family--a common, and most fatal disease then--and accounted for the deaths in the family. Fred, throughout life had a chest weakness.

      In the last 10 or so years of their lives Dad, Uncle Bill, Uncle Allen and Uncle Fred lived within a few hundred yards of each other in Torrens Park, Adelaide.

      I don't know very much about Mum's parents and I think they must have died much earlier in life than Grandparents Jones. The latter lived till over 80. Mum never referred to her parents as still alive, at any time I can remember. They emigrated from Redruth, Cornwall, from which area in England large numbers of people came to staff the copper and tin mines in the Moonta, Wallaroo, Burra etc in the 1850-1890 era. Redruth, from which they came had similar mining pursuits. I don't know that Grandpa was a miner or when they came to SA. Mum was born in Stockport, a small place between Kapunda

and Hamley Bridge in October 1864. As she was the eldest in the family it seems likely that they came out to SA a short time before Mum's birth.

      Grandpa Manuel had a butcher's business and I think later moved to Dublin, not far from Wild Horse Plains. As I said, I know very little about these grandparents, but they must have been a couple of real quality for their large family certainly were people of very fine quality. As some-one once remarked to me, "they had that something a bit extra", and all those that I met were people of grace and dignity. But, like all of us, being human, these grandparents had a few weaker spots. I once complimented Mum on how patient she was in difficult situations. She replied, "I don't think I am at all--I'm sure I inherited some of my mother's fire. My father sometimes drank too much and became difficult, and mother in a flash of spirit, picked up the butcher's knife and gave him a crack on the head with it. But as Mum added, her mother with a large family to care for had been tried beyond endurance by her father's irresponsibility.

      The family were:

      HELENA LAVINIA, called Lena--our Mum.

      WILLIAM, killed in action in the first World War.

      CLARENCE, married my Dad's sister, Annie. Had an adjoining farm in Kerang to my parents. Both died early in life leaving 2 young boys. Arnold, brought up by Auntie Edie, was killed in the first World War and Robey, one of Australia's notable flying aces in the first World War. A fine citizen throughout life in Kerang. Died in 1976.

      EDITH, married Jack Jones (no relation) a school master and lived in Perth.

      ETHEL, married Edward Denyer, a farmer of Kerang.

      HORACE, farmed at Sealake, Vic.

      CLARA, didn't marry. Lived with her sister Laura, and helped bring up her family.

      PERCY, had a farm at Kerang. Last surviving member of family, died about 1968.

      LAURA, married Dad's brother Fred. Lived Brim, Vic then Belair and Torrens Park, SA.

      AMY, married Roy Fretwell a bank manager and lived in WA and Vic.

      KEN, a farmer in Kerang.

      Dad was a biggish man, almost 6ft and weighed about 14 stone for most of his life. He, of course, was brought up in the old school and I always regarded him as a stern man who believed ardently the maxim "If you spare the rod, you'll spoil the child". And I want to assert, none of our family was spoiled! He was mostly a quiet man and not very communicative, which characteristic he seemed to pass on to his sons, and maybe to some of his daughters, as well. He believed firmly in the work ethic and from an early age we were all put into the work force of the world and I think he somewhat enjoyed being in the drivers seat. It must be realised that life in those days was governed by stem realities, economically there wasn't much of a "controlled economy" as now with its tariffs, trade treaties, and trade unions were not in existence to protect workers. If a man did not work hard and long hours he was in a hopeless situation--and of course, Dad was a creature of his time, he himself having been brought up the hard way. So our family was brought to work and how!! Whilst I appreciate the improved conditions of work in these later years, I still think a lot of people regard work as a necessary evil and have determined to do as little of it as possible. "An honest day's work for an honest day's pay" seems to me a good principle still. Maybe I'm a "square", but I've always loved work--not because Dad made me do it when I was a little boy (I hated it then!) but because work, as I've known it for most of my life, has been a creative thing and has always kept me on the stretch with goals ahead. Regrettably, many of those I've never reached.

      Dad was a man of integrity, upright and generous to causes he chose to sponsor. He lived very sparingly and I think the only luxury he allowed himself as a pipe smoker, was three pipefuls of tobacco a day--one after each meal. Politically, he was an admirer of Lloyd George and as far as I can remember was a Liberal all his life (he gave the name of "Lloyd George" to his youngest son! Was that a tribute to "L. G." or was he running out of boys' names for his large family by this time? For other than political reasons, his older members of the family totally rejected the name from the start and called him "Jack" and that name has stuck. At school Jack had to be registered by his true name, and one day one of his boy friends at school came to our house enquiring for Lloyd Jones and Mum replied "There's no one here by that name!").

      Dad in his later years was quite a reader--but his favourite author was Shakespeare. On the mantelpiece just above his lounge chair, "The Works of William Shakespeare" had a permanent place and was much used. If he had run short of reading matter, down came Shakespeare to be read and re-read again and again.

      Physically, Mum was only about 5ft 2in in height and of medium build. In her later years she was only a tiny dot. In her early girlhood, through a cause unknown to me, one of her eyes turned inwards, but this did not seem to impair her vision. She had black hair and an olive skin, but only three of her children, Bert, Connie and Laura took after her in this colouring. Sweet faced and gentle in manner, she possessed the highest qualities in motherhood and was regarded with deep affection by all her children. She was a quiet, reticent lady, but nevertheless very friendly to her neighbours and associates. She was essentially a home-maker and moved very little outside her home. Indeed, in her earlier

married life with a large family, and in any case being located on farms with little available transport, the home-circle was the centre and almost the whole of life for her and her kind. She was a most efficient person in management of her home doing all the cooking, which in those days included bread-baking several times each week. All the clothes for the family were made by her, and of course, for the first half of her life, on a hand-operated machine. I was over 14 years when I had my first bought garments and those I bought with my own money--although Mum chose them. I guess this was the same for the rest of the family. I doubt if she ever bought a cake in her life, except perhaps, at a sale of work. She was a great lover of flowers and always had a garden which she tended with care, even carrying buckets of water, in Adelaide's hot summer, in her old age, so that her "rosies", as she called them, would not perish.

      She was a very devoted wife and there was a strong bond between her and Dad--in fact we sometimes thought she spoilt him with her attention. As I see it, it was as mother that she excelled. She was the centre of the family's love and unity both in giving and receiving. All her children were "wanted" and she had no complaints when children continued to arrive--but some of the older members of the family, then in their early 20's, thought it was "too much" and didn't shriek with delight! In those days, of course, large families were no novelty, at all. When Mum married, Dad was a widower with 4 children and she had the care of the three eldest thereon. These three were then about 9, 7 and 5 years of age, but such was Mum's mothering quality that they became very much her own and when later, children were born to her there was never the slightest difference made between the two groups, her love and care was over them equally. She welded the whole family together and never did I hear any mention of children and step-children. And the older ones have said themselves that Mum never at any time gave them any feeling other than that they were her very own. (In view of all the sad stories one hears of step-parents and step-children, Mum's quality of an all-embracing mother love was superlative. It was not until about 12 that I got a jolt when a school-mate of mine said: "Anyway Frank and Hartley are not your brothers, they are your step-brothers!" I'd never heard of such a thing and I remember to this day how resentful I was and protested that they were my real brothers.)

      As the family grew up Mum's family care duties were lessened by the girls, who in succession, were her right hand helpers. At this time there was very little opportunity for a girl to find an occupation apart from house duties, particularly for those who were living on farms.

      This took place on the 7th of August, 1882 to a Miss Chapman in the Wild Horse Plains district. I don't know how long they continued in this area, but later they moved to Kangaroo Island when Dad took up farming in virgin country. How long they remained there is unknown to me, but I gather it was a big struggle, as the soil was not very good for wheat-growing and fertilisers were unknown then. Furthermore, Kangaroo Is. is about 80 miles from Adelaide and everything had to be shipped hither and thither by a very inadequate service. Four children were born of this union--Olive, Hartley, Frank and Louie. What caused the mother's death and when it occurred, or where, I do not know, but I think Louie was only a babe at the time. The mother's parents took over the

care of Louie and I'm not sure who took responsibility for the three older ones--possibly Dad's parents.

      By this time Dad was back at Wild Horse Plains and had returned to his trade as a blacksmith. In her days of young womanhood Mum had taken various jobs, for sometime as a local school-teacher, for a person I met in Adelaide when at Maylands told me he was taught at school by Mum. But I believe the greater part of her young womanhood was spent as a helper in the home of a Dr. Fry in North Adelaide. Mum sometimes referred to this and it seemed the children of the household were her special responsibility, for she told us of summer holidays at Port Wakefield and Port Germain. Her service with the Fry's must have covered quite a few years. She was baptised at the Kermode St. Church of Christ and was married to Dad at this Church on October 1, 1890. So, I think she was most likely with the Fry's up till that time. (When I visited Mum in the Narrogin Hospital in 1943 just before she died, I mentioned how nice the Narrogin Hospital was, and her mind being a bit wavery, she surprised me by replying quite naturally, "This is not Narrogin Hospital it's at North Adelaide!" As so often happens in old age the mind slips back to scenes of the early years of life).

      It seems that soon after marriage they must have decided to seek new pastures in another State and their eyes looked across to northern Victoria, not far from the Murray at Kerang.

      When Dad selected his virgin block of land on the shores of Lake Bael Bael it was thought that this area of mallee country was rather useless for wheat production. The surrounding area is of rather sticky black soil and there are scores of fairly shallow lakes and many marshes. However, history has revealed that the district has some of the finest records in farm production in Victoria. Kerang is a thriving and prosperous district with a substantial township in those days.

      Dad's selection was a bare block and had not been developed in any way. When Mum, Dad, Olive, Hartley and Frank arrived their first night's shelter was a few sheets of galvanised iron propped up against a tree. Something a little better was organised for the following days and nights as a temporary shelter. Dad set to work as quickly as possible to make mud bricks and shortly after, several small rooms were built which served until a later time when added provision could be made. Clearing of the land for sowing a wheat crop was a primary issue, and this began in earnest. I visited Kerang in May 1926--the year I came to College--and was taken out to see the old farm. Some of Dad's early buildings had been replaced. A few hundred yards away from the old house was a large heap of mud bricks and old timber where the house of Uncle Clarrie and Auntie Annie once stood.

      Life in this new district in its early development was tough. Tracks which lead to the small township were often not negotiable because of the sticky nature of the black soil. In the hot summers, water for domestic purposes was limited to rainwater from the

roof and this was often quite insufficient. There was a soak (or spring) almost a mile from the house and Mum used to carry her babies and the washing to the soak in the summer heat, do the washing there, hang it out to dry and that accomplished gather up her babies and track back to the house. How's that for mod cons?

      Farm machinery in the early days was not labour-saving, either. Much was done by hand. Harvesters were not then known. The crop was taken off by a stripper, horse drawn. This merely gathered the heads of wheat, chaff and a. When the stripper was full, the door was opened at the back and the lot dumped in heaps throughout the paddock (if rain came, it was disastrous). Later these great heaps were put through a winnower, hand-operated, which was hard work. The chaff was blown away and the grain put in bags.

      The heaps of grain, open in the paddocks were a menace to stock, for a feed from these heaps would soon end in death for the animal through compaction. This did occur, not infrequently, for in early development of a farm, fences were delayed till time and cost were available. On at least one occasion, Hart and Frank, as little boys, were told by Dad to mind the milking cows in the paddock and see that they didn't go near the stripped heaps. Now it just happened that both these boys were very sports-minded (they were all their lives) and happily whiled away their time without a thought about the cows. The inevitable happened. There was no place in the paddock as attractive to the cows as the heaps of gathered grain. The cows died, which was a substantial loss to a struggling farmer, to say nothing of losing the only supply line of milk for the home. Dad, of course, was furious and took it out on hides of the little boys with such severity that when Mum, later was bathing them, she wept at the scars and bruises on their bodies. As I said before--Dad could be very harsh and cruel! I believe there were more incidents of this kind through Hart and Frank pursuing their games regardless of what they had been asked to do.

      The years at Kerang produced a good farm but also half of Mum's family, for the following were born in Kerang: Clara, Victor, Bert, Fred and Connie.

      Regarding the Manuel family--I mentioned that Clarrie came at about the same time as Mum and Dad and a next-door farmer. At what time other members arrived, I do not know, but Auntie Ettie (Denyer), Uncle Perc. and Uncle Ken engaged in farming in Kerang for the remainder of their lives. The descendants of these Manuels are well regarded citizens of that district still. It is worth noting that it is only twelve short of a century since Mum and Dad first settled there.

      After ten years in opening up and establishing himself on his farm Dad was well pleased with his venture and had done very well in a district which was earlier declared to be "useless mallee". The reputation of success of farming there must have spread and someone came to Dad and flattered him with a good price for his farm. He hadn't thought of selling till then--but the offer must have seemed so good and he sold. I heard him say many years later that he did the wrong thing and wished he'd stayed.

      I don't know what influenced Dad's mind towards WA for further farming pursuits. It may have been the vast areas ready for development or the fact that he had five young sons who would want a future. WA at this time in it's history--"the turn of the century"--was being widely publicised because of the discovery of gold, particularly in the Coolgardie/Kalgoorlie region and Easterners were flocking to WA in their thousands.

      It was about this time that the good gold bearing areas in Victoria were giving out and WA looked like a "second life" for them so off they went.

      So the Jones family joined the good ship "Buninyong" and set off for Fremantle on 20th of January, 1902.

      What plans were in Dad's mind for the immediate future is not clear, for it seems several years passed before he finally selected farming land at Brookton, a bit over a hundred miles from Perth on the Albany line. The undeveloped land, partly good rich soil and also partly sand-plain, was situated about 7 miles from the small Brookton township. I think the farming blocks (I don't know the acreage of ours) were surveyed to include so much rich land and so much sand-plain--of which there's a lot of the latter in WA farming areas. At this time it was almost useless for farming purposes. Not so now, for with the additives to lean soils and also with certain clovers which are grown on the sand-plains, have greatly enriched the soil and good wheat crops result and for pastures, it's first rate. These discoveries have been only made in comparatively recent times, and the original farmers who slogged away with this sand-plain without any good result would not be able to believe the change science has brought to the problem.

      So as to provide some income to provide for the family Dad purchased several houses and the rents provided some income. Apparently Dad wanted to have an investment with the money from the sale of the Lake Bael Bael farm rather than leaving it in the bank--until he needed it for developing his farm at Brookton later. What Dad did with his time for the first few years at Fremantle, I don't know. I believe he had a block of land a few miles out in the bush near Bulls Creek and he possibly used this for growing vegetables--it's a market growing area--but I doubt if he grew them for other than family needs. He also spent some time scouring the State for a suitable farming block. There was one big advantage for Clara, Vic., Bert and Fred--they were able to attend nearby--about a quarter of a mile--a sizeable school at White Gum Valley, just over the hill from our home in Swanbourne St. Olive, of course was a great help to Mum in these years with all the duties of a large family. Hart and Frank at 16-18 years of age would be employed in something but what, I don't know. It was whilst in Fremantle that Dad first became associated with the Church of Christ as a member and the family attended High St. Church and Sunday School. Some links of friendship made there lasted throughout their lives. The old church there has had a very honourable period of service in the old port town.

      After 2 or 3 years, Dad selected a farm block at Brookton and began plans for its development. The good land had to be cleared for wheat crops and in those days everything had to be done by hand (no machines then for bull-dozing trees and scrub etc.) so the job was slow moving when hundreds of acres had to be cleared. In addition, a house had to built and materials weren't easily available. So Dad decided to build with mud bricks which he could make on the spot, and this alone was a big task--making and drying thousands of large bricks. Dad must have possessed--as most farmers did then--a Jack-of-all trades capacity, for with the help of the boys he built the house of six rooms. It was basically a square four rooms of mud-bricks with a wide veranda all around. The back veranda was enclosed at two points--one for the kitchen and one for a large boy's

bedroom. It took about 18 months or more before it was completed--but then, of course, the builders also had to attend to the demands of a developing young farm, as well as batching for themselves.

      During this long period whilst Dad was away, life couldn't have been too easy for Mum. One duty which was difficult for a woman of her nature, was the collection each week, of the rents from the tenants in Dad's houses, which of course Dad attended to when at home. Tenants can be tough (and Mum wasn't) and sometimes they couldn't or wouldn't pay their rent, and Mum found her-self in tears after trying to perform this rather irksome (for her) chore. What she received in rent was her house-keeping money and when it didn't come in regularly, it made problems for her with Dad away for long periods. During all her life she was a most economical person and how she managed to provide adequately for her large family on the amount she did, was amazing. In various ways she inspired her children never to be wasteful and to do the very best with what was available, and as far as possible, to be independent. Improvidence had no part in her thinking.

      Toward the end of the time in Fremantle, Olive went to Adelaide to care for Grandpa and Grandma Jones who were then in advanced years. She had become friendly with a young man ere she left by the name of Sam Taylor and this attachment continued for the 5 or 6 years she was in Adelaide.

      During the Fremantle years, three more children were born--Annie, Keith and Lewis. I think I was three years old when the house had been finally built and was ready for occupation--so the family uprooted itself once again and entrained for Brockton.

      I have no recollection of any events during the time in Fremantle--nor can I remember any particular happenings in the early days at Brookton, so nothing is set down here in sequence. One of the very great losses in moving to Brookton was the fact that we were 7 miles from a school. We were about mid-way between two schools, one in Brockton and the other at Mt. Kokeby. Travel in those days was all by horse-drawn vehicles and 7 miles was thought of as a long distance. So the family for 5 years or so had no schooling. This greatly disadvantaged several of the family, particularly Bert, Fred, Connie and Annie. I've always felt that Dad was not as concerned as he should have been about schooling for his family. I hope I am not misjudging him here. Of course, it must be conceded that education then, was not the absolute necessity as now. Very few went on to higher education for there were extremely few opportunities career wise then. In a farming community the young people were expected to settle "on the land". Dad seemed to think that if one could read and write, that was about a that was needed. A rather inadequate view of education! I can remember a lady teacher visiting our home--from Mt. Kokeby school--and trying to persuade Mum and Dad to send the youngsters there. Nothing came of it. I've always had: a feeling--but it may be only imagination--that Mum was not "struck" on living at Brookton and I've often wondered if it was because her children were being deprived of one of their essential rights. It could be so, for it must have troubled her a lot.

      The farm was situated east of Brookton on slightly undulating country. Dad had chosen a very good site for the location of the house. About 1.5 miles in from the road, the house nicely situated among trees, with a small hill at the back and a creek

nearby. The creek only ran in the winter months. Around the house was an outcropping of low granite rocks and because of the presence of the many she-oak trees on the slope at the back the farm was named "Oakbank". From the front of the house there was a pleasant view across the farm lands. About 100 metres from the front of the house there was a "soak" or spring which gave water for most of the year. Otherwise the water supply was from roof catchment--at least in the early years. Dad built a large underground tank to catch and conserve water from the roof During the winter months particularly, Mum had a vegetable garden near the soak and a few fruit trees were planted there also. Nearby stables and feed shed for the care of the horses were built and Dad also had a "smithy" for making or mending machinery and also for shoeing a horse if needed. Of course, the horses used solely on the farm didn't need to be shod. I liked to be around when Dad was working in the blacksmith shop--what with the box of heated charcoal and the huge bellows to bring the coals to red heat for making iron bars red hot so as to be shaped on the anvils, with myriads of sparks flying everywhere.

      More and more land was cleared over the years and I often used to go with the "big boys" when they were not too far from home, to watch them burning down the big trees--mostly white gums--and then gathering the logs and branches and making huge fires. I recall, on one occasion, when the logs had burnt down and there was a massive heap of red coals radiating such heat that I had to stand right back. One of them said to me--let him be nameless--"Keith, how would you like to be thrown into that?" I drew back at the very thought. "Well," he said "that's what hell is like!!" Appropriately horrified for a little boy, I vowed to avoid that! (it should be said here that most of the boys--including Dad--had a strong teasing streak in them and practised on the younger ones. I wonder how far that streak has gone??).

      In our new setting, there was little or no social life. What fun we had was home-made. Anyway, there was little time for leisure. It was a six day week of work from about 5 a.m. rise to feed and groom the horses, so that they would have sufficient stamina till lunchtime (12 noon) when they would be re-powered by a nose-bag of chaff, wherever they happened to be working. If a fair distance from home-base, the boys would take a cut lunch and then after an hour's break work on till sun-down. This routine in work hours went on all the year round. Sunday was a no work day and a no play day as well. I can remember the boys being upbraided for playing around a bit on Sunday. In those days Sunday was kept strictly in most homes--certainly in ours. Some years later, at Armadale, Fred and I were having a game of marbles at the back of our house when Dad came on to the scene and rebuked us severely.

      When we first went to Brookton there was a small Baptist Church in the town, with Mr. Trenter as minister and I can recall him visiting "Oakbank". Mum and Dad, and I expect, Hart and Frank attended the services on occasions. A short time after, as most of the attendants at services were Church of Christ members, the Baptists sold the property to our Church. For sometime, there was no resident minister and "supplies" came up from Northam and the city to aid the local laymen. I remember Mr. W. L. Ewers, minister of Northam church, visiting our home on several occasions. He was a young man lately returned from training in the USA and was a very bright fellow. He joined the boys in their impromptu, homemade sport of vaulting, with the aid of strong pole, over a high hurdle, which climbed up and up as they cleared it. Looking on, at about 6 years of age I found it

very exciting as the competition was making great gaiety among those participating. Mr. Ewers had a good singing voice, and in our lounge room in the evening he conducted a family service--singing being the thing which remains in my mind--not the sermon! (Hart and Frank had good singing voices--Hart, bass and Frank, tenor. Let it be said here, they were the only boys in the family who possessed this art!). Shortly after this time, Mr. Harry Manning, also recently returned from USA training College, became our first resident minister at Brookton--serving a circuit with four or five preaching points. He was an extremely exuberant man, with a spontaneous loud laugh--in fact the boys nicknamed him "Mr Ha! Ha!" He was a very popular man with everyone because of his geniality and friendliness. After one of his periodic visits to our home, I said, much to the amusement and derision of my big brothers, "When I grow up to be a man I'm going to be a minister like Mr Manning" (How's that for prophetic insight from a six year old?). My brothers never let me forget that declaration.

      It was about this time a new element entered our lives which created quite a stir, because of its novelty--to us youngsters at least. A young man began paying ardent attention to Clara who was then about 18. They had first met at Brookton Church and fell heavily for each other, and it continued that way for the next 50 years or more. George Fitzgerald was a young farmer from Beverley a nearby town, and entered the College of the Bible (Melbourne, Victoria) in 1909. With quite a streak of Irish in him he was unpredictable, warm-hearted and out-going. He didn't strike instant favour with Mum and Dad, but with Mum, I doubt if she looked with eagerness, at first, on any of the young men who came to make their early calls on her daughters. Mum needed, with her reserved nature, a bit of time to adjust to "the inevitable". Dad, on the other hand--or so it seemed to me--had hopes that his daughters would match up with men on the land--and only one did! I doubted whether he thought non-farmers were real workers or worth their salt in the economy. I'm sure he never thought parsons, as he called them, were of much use at all. So Clara and George's early courtship, in the early stages wasn't warmly approved.

      For myself, I think I was a bit jealous of this interloper who came to absorb the rapt attention of Clara, who to us young ones was a second mother and much loved. When they went off for a walk I decided to follow them. However, George didn't want a little pest around and paid me sixpence to go home, the first money I'd earned--or was given. So began the basis of my personal fortune!

      A very sad experience was the lot of our family at this time when Lew took ill and this caused great concern, naturally. Mum was the "doctor" of the household and most of her skill came through a careful reading of a big book called "The Family Doctor". When anyone got sick Mum read it for symptoms and what to do. I doubt whether it was discovered what was wrong with Lew and he became seriously ill. There were no telephones or cars then and the nearest Doctor was at Beverley about 18 miles away. So Frank saddled a horse and galloped off into the night to call the Doctor who drove out with his buggy and pair in the early morning. But Lew died to the great grief of all--and I lost my little playmate, two years younger than I was.

      Our nearest neighbours were approximately 1.5 miles distant, the Langley family up near our turn-in off the main road, and an old bachelor, Sam Whittington lived east across the paddocks. He was a friendly fellow and seemed to endure us youngsters happily. One thing that interested me at his house, was that he had a lot more fowls than

we did--and also much more varied. Among them, he had developed quite a few guinea fowl--which seemed funny little birds with a very queer sounding cluck. Big turkey gobblers were also a fascination. Sam tried to get Clara to take an interest in him but she was not so inclined. However he did marry quite a few years later--and even had a family.

      In management of the farm, I'm sure Dad was glad he had no shortage of workers. In fact there were duties for all of us. Clara, was Mum's chief assistant and Connie was old enough to lend a hand. The boys, mostly seemed to break up into two teams for various jobs. We referred to them as the "Big Boys" and the "Little Boys". Hart and Frank in the former, Vic, Bert and Fred in the latter. Annie and I were marshalled to take out morning and afternoon teas, to wherever they happened to be working in the paddocks. It was always billy-tea and cake or biscuits. Sometimes the boys would be half a mile or more distant. On occasions, after taking the afternoon tea out we would stay till the boys came home at sundown with their teams of horses. We occupied ourselves playing around, sometimes going for walks in nearby bush, picking flowers and watching birds. I remember being enthralled with the willy-wag tails, such friendly and entertaining birds. It was quite a high moment when we found our very first birds nest with eggs and mother willy-wag tail intact. The nest was on a limb of a fallen tree and only about 3 ft. from the ground--eye-height to us then. As we did our daily chore, the exercise was enlivened by the thrill of visiting the nest and observing daily progress. Only a simple matter I suppose, but to me, one of the loveliest memories of childhood.

      Winter and spring brought an abundance of wild flowers on the hill behind us and flannel flowers along the course of the creek and the nearby sand plain and bush provided a wide variety. We all must have Mum's innate love of flowers--for we are all garden lovers. When the season of wild-flowers came we thoroughly enjoyed going for walks and gathering the kinds we liked best. We'd bring them home--lots of them--and Mum would always find a vase or jar for them. This must have been a bit of a nuisance to her, but even when we were older and did the same thing, Mum always found containers for the flowers no matter what.

      One of my joys, when we had been out in the paddocks with the boys, was to be allowed to go a round or two, sitting on the plough. There was always a thrill sitting behind a team of horses, lively and throbbing, and occasionally to look back and see the plough shares rolling back the fragrant earth--especially after recent rain. We youngsters had a great interest in the farm horses and had our favourites. When the day's work was finished, the boys would unhook the horses and let them walk home singly which they were happy to do after a long day hitched together hauling a plough--or whatever. One of the boys would hoist me on the back of one of the quietest horses and I had my first lessons in riding bare back. This was great fun until a hundred or two yards from home the horses would smell the water in their trough and they'd always set off at a trot with me hanging on to their mane, unceremoniously bumping up and down. It was very uncomfortable, this end of the ride, and the fact that the sudden jerky bumping rubbed off the skin on each side of the buttocks and left a scar there, didn't put me off having that ride home.

      Mum was a healthy person and throughout her long life had very little ill-health. However there was a serious crisis at "Oakbank". One night in bed, she felt something touch her face and thinking, in her half-sleep that it was some wandering insect

she just brushed it aside. Later, she became very ill, and in searching for the cause, discovered a red-back spider among the bed clothes. The bite induced great pain and she became desperately ill and it looked as if the bite would be fatal. She said many years later that she was sure she was at the end--all pain had gone, and she felt marvellously at peace. Her pulse had almost gone and Dad in one desperate moment tipped the bottle of brandy, neat, into her mouth and forced some of the fluid down. This drastic treatment revived her and she began to make a slow recovery. I can recall her being very ill in bed, but didn't know the cause or drama of it till many years after. Since I knew of the power of the bite of the red-back spider (much more common in WA than in the East) I've had a horror of them. The streak of red on the black velvet of the spider's back marks it out as one of the most attractive to look at, but it's a deadly thing.

      Our family continued to grow and Laura was added and 2.5 years later, Jack came to complete the family. They were born on the farm. For many years Mum had the same mid-wife (Mrs Brown) and she arrived for a "visit" a couple of weeks before the babe was due. Of course, the younger members of the family thought she was a normal welcome visitor, until a little later we got a big surprise. When Laura was born I was awakened at night by noises and in the morning I asked my brothers, who shared the same room, "Why were the chooks making all that noise in the night?" The reply was obvious to them--"You've got a new sister." As is the usual run with children, Annie and I plagued Mum and Dad with the old question, "Where did you get her from?". As becometh that age of modesty they were not very forthcoming but put us off with the reply, "Oh, we found her under one of those big cabbages in the garden." With total faith in the veracity of our parents we were satisfied--up to a point. Thereafter, every morning for a week or two Annie and I tore down to the garden by the soak and searched under the big leaves of every cabbage in the garden. We did not find it a very productive exercise.

      When later Laura had started walking she was a most active little miss, always on the go and took some watching. Poor Mum one day had a terrible fright when someone told her that Laura was running around on the top of the blacksmith's shop. (Dad, on the previous day had been fixing a roof on the Smithy and had left the ladder leaning against the wall because the job was incomplete). Much to Mum's panic, the little mite was tearing around on the roof to her great delight. Mum scaled up the ladder and Laura scampered away as far as possible and Mum feared that if she went after she'd run over the edge--and in addition some of the sheets of iron had not been nailed down. So Mum offered her a bribe of going with them in the buggy and pair and eventually after the tenseness, Laura thought that was a fair bargain. The incident undid Mum for that day and after.

      Despite the growth of our family I don't think the house was enlarged at any time. The only addition I can remember was the construction of a brick bakery at the back of the house. Each year Dad took quite a few bags of his best wheat to the flour mill and had it gristed into flour. There was always a stack of flour in bags on the side veranda near the kitchen (Clara and George found the flour stack a convenient place for smoodging when they needed to be near the house--which wasn't all that often!). The bakery was a boon to Mum after having to provide lots of bread for the big family, in the oven in the kitchen hitherto--particularly in the long hot months.

      An incident which caused a brief upheaval was when Dad went out to a paddock where the "little boys" were on some project and instead of working, nothing had

taken place and they were having a great time playing some kind of game. Dad got mad, of course, and seeing they were too big at this stage to get a whacking, Dad told Vic and Bert to get out, which they did! Mum, predictably, was terribly distressed and was much in tears for that day, night and next day. I guess Dad was sorry by this time for his impetuous action especially when he knew how deeply Mum was upset. Of course she didn't know where they'd gone. However they returned home before nightfall the second day much to our joy. No doubt there was a cool, wordless few days so far as the boys and Dad were concerned.

      After searching for water for years within reasonable reach of the home, Dad was successful in locating a spring or some such and water was laid on to the house to supplement the rain tanks and also supply some for Mum's garden.

      Toward the end of our period in Brookton, the older part of the family--now into young adulthood attended the Church in Brookton. I can only remember one occasion when I was allowed to go. On that Sunday afternoon there happened to be three young men being baptised by Mr. Manning (Don's father) and the service was in the small Avon Creek, a tributary of the larger Avon River. The congregation was seated on the banks of the stream. At that time I had no knowledge of what this event meant and sitting beside Lottie Bennett (Frank's sweetheart and later, wife) I couldn't understand why everyone looked so terribly serious. To my young uninitiated eyes and understanding it was quite an entertaining event.

      Because we couldn't attend Sunday School, Mum and then later Clara, used to gather us younger ones for a short while on Sunday afternoons and tell us a Bible story. I can still see the blue-covered book from which Mum used to read these stories--and how we loved them! The singing of a few simple hymns completed the session.

      No doubt, somewhat influenced by George Fitzgerald's decision to train for the ministry, Frank entered the College of the Bible in 1911, but he must have decided that this was not his "line" and only remained for the one year. Some, naturally enough said that he and his sweetheart, Lottie, found the long separation a bit too much.

      Toward the end of 1911 some new family decisions were being made. Hartley was engaged to be married to Lily Leach and would soon be making a new home. So the decision was made to leave Brookton and Hartley would rent the farm. Apparently, before Mum and Dad left they'd made tentative plans to buy a property at Armadale, in the Darling Ranges, 19 miles from Perth. I guess, at first, they thought of semi-retirement there. So the die was cast and in May 1912 the move was to be made. Hartley, Frank, Vic and Bert were to remain and find farm work in the district and the rest of us leaving. Most of the furniture was left in the house for Hartley and Lily--nevertheless for a family of our size there was plenty of packing to be done. At the final leave-taking the horses and buggy were ready at the gate and Mum was the last to leave the house, all flustered, of course, by so many things to attend to. She seated herself in the buggy and then with a jerk, she realised she hadn't picked up her baby, Jack, then just over a year old. A devoted mother, she was never allowed to forget that remiss action--the family teased her over it for the rest of her life.

      The train journey was a great event for us younger ones for we'd not left the farm to go any distance since the day we arrived there 5 or 6 years before. The train trip was made vivid for me by one unexpected happening when we were going through the

hills nearing Perth. I had gone to the toilet at the end of the carriage and the train plunged through a tunnel in the hills. You can imagine my panic in the complete blackness and I knew nothing of tunnels or what had happened. After a minute or two (it seemed hours to me) we emerged into light and a frightened and sheepish boy scurried back to our compartment, asking what the abysmal blackness was all about.

      We arrived in due course at Fremantle and arrangements had been made for us to occupy our house in Swanbourne St., from which we went to Brookton. As it was night when we arrived I think we were kindly accommodated for the night by our former neighbours on either side--the Excells and the Ralstons, as there was no furniture in our place. Next day Mum went down to the shopping centre to attend furniture auction sales to get us some bits and pieces to put in the house. I can recall the day vividly as Dad was left with the family and Jack cried for the whole day and refused to be comforted by any of his overtures, for Dad was like a fish out of water in baby-care. The neighbours were very kind to us and did their best to meet the situation.

      We were in Fremantle about 3 months as plans for our Armidale move had not been finalised. The big new experience for us, living in a city, was a bit overwhelming for us country bumpkins. The first big hurdle was lining up for school at White Gum Valley. We were all scared the first few days and I had a real fear of school, because my big brothers had told me the big boys would belt me up the first few days. I remember tearing home after the first day and saying to Mum, "the boys didn't belt me up at all." Fred and Connie, about 12 and 14 at the time, were very self-conscious because they were big, but were 5 or more years behind and had to be put back with the little ones. For some reason or another, merit awards were given to youngsters in the school and on several occasions these came our way. Awards were in the form of tickets to the pictures-matinees on Saturday afternoons, so we had a new, exciting experience--motion pictures-silent of course. One Saturday it was mostly a fight between two boxers, Johnson and someone else, for films were not graded by censors then. When telling all about the pictures at the tea-table, Dad commented, "If we'd known a picture like that was on, you wouldn't have gone!"

      After the simple life on the farm we quite enjoyed our short stay in the "flesh-pots" of Fremantle with all its wide variety, as the main port for WA. I have a vivid memory of gazing longingly at what seemed to me fabulous lolly shops and a few doors down the street was a backyard full of vines, with the most luscious looking bunches of grapes--and just out of reach! I spent quite a time drooling at the back gate but never a grape came my way. I'd never seen grapes growing before.

      The biggest event for the family in Fremantle was the marriage of Hartley and Lily. The first wedding in the family and we all thoroughly enjoyed all the frills. Lily was such a pretty, dainty little bride and her smallness was accentuated by Hart's 6ft 2in.

      Whilst at Fremantle I had a minor accident. I had been accustomed to chopping wood on the farm, but what we had delivered in town was sawn into blocks ready for splitting. The wood too was different--this was banksia and when it is split, it often has a sharp edge. A piece flew up and struck me on the upper lip and cut like a knife and blood was everywhere. Mum got a big fright and as usual, acted as doctor. I guess it should have had stitches, but somehow it mended, but the scar has remained.

      The property Dad bought was on the Albany Road about one mile from the town. Armidale township is situated at the foot of the Darling Ranges and was in olden times before railways were built, the changing place for coaches which ran between Perth and Albany (250 miles south) and Perth and Bunbury (112 miles s.w.). At the junction of these roads there is a very old building, most of it now re-modelled, called "Ye old Narrogin Inn". Our place was on the top of the hill overlooking the lowlands and away to the sea coast. As the house on the property had been burnt down sometime before Dad bought it, the first project was to build a new house. Meantime we lived on a property next door, which was untenanted at the time, belonging to Uncle Ted Hart, as we knew him, a cousin of Dad's. He was a photographer--and also a land speculator and the family had lived at this house called "Mt Myrniong" for several years. The orchard surrounding the house had been neglected and the house itself--timber built--was not too solidly based and was known to move noticeably and frighteningly when high winds blew. We didn't have any trouble in the couple of months we were in it, but subsequent tenants had some merry moments there! (Last time I went by that way, the house had gone, so whether it collapsed or was demolished by man, I don't know.)

      Dad did quite a bit of the building of our house, but also had tradesmen to assist. It was basically the same as our Brookton house--4 rooms with veranda all around and the kitchen enclosed on the back veranda. There was also a new mod. Con. on the veranda--a bathroom no less. This house was constructed of jarrah weatherboard. I can remember Mum lending a hand in nailing down floor boards on the big veranda. There were sheds and a two-room galvanised iron cottage nearby the new house. The cottage was used by us as a shed.

      The property was 66 acres--a narrow block facing Albany Rd and then running back toward Bunbury Rd. for almost half a mile. Inside our place skirting the road ran Nerrigan Brook, lovely fresh water all the year round. Dad put an automatic pump on this stream to supplement our rain water tank supply. Between the road and our house there was an orchid of about 4 acres, mostly apples and pears. The orchard was not in good shape and many of the trees on "the way out" through neglect, and of course, fruit-fly in soft fruits particularly, was a menace. The healthy trees were an asset to us--but not much good commercially so Dad didn't make much money out of the property, but by this time of his life I don't think he wanted much work, and anyway he still had a few youngsters about to do the various odd jobs about the place. I know I always had my quota each day after school and at holiday times. The place became a mixed farm, with a few cows, a horse or two, fowls, vegetables, and of course fruit of various kinds--and of course, it was a pleasant place to live. Our house was on high ground, with rising ground behind, and then it levelled out on the top of the hill, which was mostly cleared pasture land, then running down a fairly steep hill was a sizeable scrub paddock in which the animals found a good picking.

      The Albany Rd., from where we lived, followed Nerrigan Brook for about 5 miles, and all this distance, there were orchards, market gardens and small farms every three or four hundred yards. Beyond that, civilisation ran out and the forest country took over. It was a very pretty valley and a little further on from us, were places with names

such as "Paradise", "Mt Paradise", "Eden" and so forth, so we were set about by some suitable reminders! Our place bore the name of "Clifford" before we came and we continued it. Across the road opposite us was a mostly wooded range, which in my boyhood I thought was a steep mountain, but I've since realised, when looking at it, that it's only a modest hill. Nowadays, the environs of "Clifford" are vastly different--as is all the area along the Nerrigan Brook, for with the growth of the city of Perth, 18 miles away, this district is now regarded as outer suburban. Many folk have bought farmlets or allotments and built new houses. In fact our original 66 acres has recently been sold for "development" into 6 acre lots and will be altogether different in no time.

      Our first venture at Armadale was getting used to a new school. Mum and Dad decided it was best for us to go to Bedfordale School which was almost 2 miles further on from our home. It was a one-teacher school of about 30 scholars in charge of a Miss Parker. A little later she took ill and had to be replaced by emergency teachers and changes were made frequently. Our parents decided the quick changes in teachers was not satisfactory so we only stayed there 6 months or so and we transferred to Armadale which was only about 1 mile distant if we walked through a big paddock and down the hill to the school. At that time, if we walked by road (Albany Rd) it was 2 miles. The big paddock was used for grazing cattle by the Saw family, early settlers in the district who owned a large area of land hereabout. We didn't much like the bull and cows, which at times glared at us and roared. In fact, on one occasion when Annie had gone down alone on Saturday morning to Armadale to do some shopping (she was then about 11 years) she came home with the tale that the cows had chased her and she had to run for her life to reach a fence. I'm sure it was only her rich imagination! (At another time she was walking through bush near home when a snake chased her--again, a highly coloured story.)

      But there was a real incident later which caused considerable fright and anxiety. We were using the foot-track through the paddock (which was uncleared) and after leaving the school we had walked up the hill almost to the top (about 0.25 of a mile) and we noticed a man following behind us, but took no notice as the track was often used by people who lived up our way. So near the top we sat down on a big rock to have a rest and make way for the man to pass. When he got level with us he grabbed Connie (about 14) and swung her around several times. Naturally, we all screamed with fear and shock. I can still see his wild face and flashing eyes. He then turned and ran down the hill again. As can be understood, our shaking legs carried us very swiftly for the rest of the way home where we poured out our story. Of course Mum and Dad were terribly upset and Dad immediately harnessed our horse in the sulky (gig), and Connie, having changed her clothing, and Dad went back to Armadale in the hope of spotting the offender. However, their search was fruitless. About this time a road was built from nearby our place down this same hill by a slightly different route, and from then on we always used the road in going to Armadale and school.

      Our life, apart from school and shopping, seemed to be linked with the Bedfordale community, which embraced the area from our place for about the next 5 or 6 miles along the Albany Rd till settlement ran out. There was a small public hall near the school and here all social events were centred and also the Congregationalists conducted a Sunday School and church services there. We attended the S. S superintended by Mr B. V. Cross, a well-meaning but not a very gifted man. With five sons of his own, he did his best

for the little school. We always walked the 2 miles to and fro, and even at night after a concert or social, we youngsters would walk home alone. Mum and Dad never attended any of these functions, as far as I can recall. All transport was horse-drawn. Nobody owned a car--the nearest one we knew of was 33 miles away at Kelmscott, owned by a Mr Bamblett who ran a service for urgent cases like taking a mother-to-be to a small maternity hospital in Kelmscott. The nearest doctor was 15 miles distant. Nobody, of course, had electricity then, and telephones were few and far between.

      Soon after we settled at "Clifford", Mr Hart sold "Mt Myrniong", next door to a Mr Uren who had a family of 4 boys and one girl about the same ages as we youngsters were so our lives became pretty much involved in our growing years with this family.

      We had hardly got things in order in our new home before another wedding took place. Olive, having re-joined the family after her years in Adelaide, was married to Sam Taylor in our home, and the small family reception followed there, too. Only a few months later in February 1913 Clara and George Fitzgerald climaxed their courtship with marriage, and reception, again in our home, with Mr Harry Manning officiating. These events of course, were full of interest and fun for us wide-eyed youngsters. I remember, after the reception when the couple were getting ready to leave, I wasn't very happy at Clara going from the home and apparently I also looked rather glum about it all, and George threw me sixpence to cheer me up. (I'm not sure whether he thought that that's what Clara was worth--anyway I felt a bit better with this second contribution from him to my capital!) George had not long returned from College and was with the church at Bunbury--and their first home was there. Only a few months later than this Frank was married to Lottie Bennett but we didn't attend as it was at Brookton, I think. So within about 12 months, the four eldest of the family were married. Frank and Lottie made their home in Brookton, where Frank had a job with Westralian Farmers' Co-operative.

      Fred, Connie, Annie and I settled into the routine of school life at Armadale, after our first few months at Bedfordale. Lessons, at first were pretty tough--especially for Fred and Connie who were so far behind. Our teachers at first were not very expert, as I remember, but improved later. Mr J. R. Richards, a Cornishman became the Headmaster of the four teacher school and he was a demanding type and a disciplinarian. He was mad on a few subjects like English and Grammar--and also singing, and he didn't mind using his cane. I had a sample of it once or twice. Once for telling a lie. Don't think it cured me! Meantime, Laura and Jack were at home. Laura, dark hair, brown eyed and very lively was every body's favourite. She could sing very sweetly and folk would egg her on to perform which she did at Sunday School and elsewhere, and standing up on a chair or table, looking charming in her silk crocheted bonnet and pretty frock she'd sing, "I am Jesus' little lamb, Happy all day long I am"--hardly Miltonic lines, but the exercise used to get everybody in. Jack, on the other hand was snowy-haired and much more reserved.

      Within two years of our moving to Armadale war clouds were gathering and actual hostilities with Germany broke out in August 1914 and for everybody in our small community the shadows seemed to fall thick and fast. It was a terrible time for families as their fathers and sons enlisted and then embarked for theatres of war in Gallipoli, France, Middle East etc. So many were killed, seriously wounded, gassed or lost at sea early in the war that the horror of total war sat like an awful pall over our land and even as youngsters we couldn't escape it, for so many around us were suffering the results of war, our own

parents included. A young teacher at school had left to join the forces, Charlie Lockhart, who was engaged to the pretty infants teacher, Amy Richards, and as soon as he landed he was killed. That fact made us realise early, the awfulness of war. And then, one by one, our neighbours and friends lost a father or son--sometimes two and even three in a family. Of course the inevitable time came for us in 1915 when Vic and Bert came down from Brookton to say they were "joining up". They chose together, to enter the Australian Light Horse Brigade and after training were designated to the Middle East. That was slightly better for us than being sent to France, the main theatre of war, although the losses were bad enough in the Middle East. I well recall the night they came to say "farewell" ere they embarked--and how dark that night was! I remember how I shuddered when Dad gave to each of them a small protective bullet-proof shield to slip into their left hand pocket over their heart, which he had purchased in the city. The stark suggestion that anything could happen so drastically to my brothers seemed impossible to my young mind. Later that year, Hartley, who then had two little boys, decided to enlist. Mum and Dad thought he wouldn't pass the medical as he had a bit of a weak chest--but he did, and was later drafted to England. This was very hard for Lily who wasn't used to "roughing it" alone.

      During the war years everyone at home were goaded into "doing their bit" by way of sending regularly, food parcels to the troops and supporting Red Cross, Salvation Amy Corps etc. Mum and Dad were strong supporters of Red Cross and Connie, and then later Annie, were marshalled to collect weekly donations from all the homes in our district and how they hated doing it! Partly because some folk were miserable about giving. Dad gave ten shillings per week which then was a princely sum and a lot more than anyone else gave. And us young fry were gathered together to assist in giving concerts, singing, plays and flag drill etc. So we were introduced early to theatrics, waving flags and singing "When Johnnie Comes Marching Home Again" and many other patriotic songs. We were mostly tutored for our parts by our neighbours, Mr and Mrs Uren who were a bit musical--in fact a very self-possessed couple who made authoritative declarations on almost everything under the sun, as I remember. They never mixed with other people much, in fact, I doubt whether Mrs Uren left her own threshold more than half a dozen times in the years she lived there. One thing of great interest to me, in my tender years--and always intrigued me, was that although she possessed a full false set of teeth, she never wore them! And I'd never encountered anyone like that before! It didn't improve her looks, but seemed to fit in with her sharp and critical nature. However, she had a good side, of course, and spent a lot of time tutoring us for our patriotic concerts and sometimes after rehearsals would give us supper, which appealed to me more than our theatrics. The actual result in the concert hall I can't remember much--but I do recall a play in which Annie and I had the leading roles and standing among a bushland setting on the platform, Annie, to her embarrassment, forgot her lines and stood there for quite a time, wiggling one big toe up and down--for inspiration, I suppose, which didn't come! No doubt she remembers this venture in repertory theatre.

      After a couple of years at school Fred left and went back to Brookton and worked on our old farm with Hartley for a time and then at other places. It always seemed to be a pity that Fred had not been given a special opportunity to prepare for some type of work which did not impose heavy physical demands. I do not know the cause of his

physical handicap, but it seems he must have been afflicted with infantile paralysis or some such as he has one affected leg and arm and hand. I know Mum always grieved over his handicap and would have liked to do something, to help him to a useful occupation which wasn't too strenuous physically. Sixty years ago it was not easy to find such an opening especially when Fred's early education was suspended when the family moved to Brookton. After working on farms for a few years Fred did come down to Perth to try himself out in a prescribed course but was unable to continue so returned to farm work. Even though the going has been a long and hard battle, as events have turned out he has done very well indeed as a farmer and he can look back with justifiable pride on his achievements.

      Soon after Fred finished at school, Connie left too and spent several years before her marriage in working in the city--mostly in peoples homes. The war dragged on and Hartley on arrival in England was soon hit by the extremely cold climate and his chest weakness showed up and he spent quite a time in military hospitals. He was classified as "unfit for service" and sent home without having served at all. He was discharged with a small war pension. For a year or so he managed a farm at Doodlakine and then returned to Brookton and lived in the house which Frank had for some years until he moved to Gnowangerup. Being an unskilled worker, he just picked up seasonal or odd jobs available there. Some felt he tended to lean too heavily on his small war pension and was not as active as he might have been in order to provide for his family which grew to 5 boys--and 2 girls as later additions. So Lily had a much bigger battle in catering for the daily needs of the family than should have been her lot. But it must be said, despite much personal sacrifice, she did marvellously and saw to it that educationally and health-wise the interests of the children came first. And the children did very well in education, especially Frank the second boy, who all but won a Rhodes Scholarship. Seeing Lily was not the rugged, tough type, but very gentle, she is worthy of much praise!

      I well recall returning from Armadale one Saturday morning with a telegram (military) which the Post Office had handed to me whilst there. When I got home Mum was on the veranda washing and I'll never forget the anguish on her face when I handed over the telegram. "It can't be good news, that's certain" she said as she falteringly tore open the envelope. She was greatly relieved when she read the message, "Slightly wounded right arm. Don't worry." signed Vic. The next day we were officially notified by the Army that Vic had been wounded in a skirmish with the enemy. For a time Vic and Bert were transferred from the Light Horse to the Camel Corps. They hated this because they were used to handling horses, but they loathed the vicious and stubborn camels whose habits they knew little of and had no desire to learn. However, they returned to the Light Horse later on. Apart from the minor wound Vic received, neither of them were hurt physically in the war, but Bert did contract malaria and for years after his return he suffered severe bouts, even though he was able to control it somewhat by strong doses of quinine. I doubt whether he ever completely threw off malaria. I'm not sure if he received a war pension for his disability, as when he got a bad attack he'd be down for a week or more with it. If he didn't get a pension he should have done.

      For Mum and Dad the grandchildren seemed to increase steadily and of course, visits to our farm for Lin and Doug Fitzgerald, especially, were full of interest as they were very lively and inquisitive little boys and wanted to know all the "whys" and

"wherefores" of everything that happened around the place. Mum had her ingenuity severely stretched in trying to satisfy them. Geoff and Cliff Taylor (about the same age) were not so interested in farm affairs. The other grandchildren were located in the country so we didn't see much of them.

      Health wise, one very bad patch came when Laura managed to combine whooping cough and measles together and was very ill (no anti-biotics in those days and Mum relied on homoeopathic remedies mostly). Mum nursed her through the crisis not going to bed for 3 days but sitting in a chair beside her bed all the time. The rest of us had the usual children's complaints but were fortunate enough to get them singly. 1 quite enjoyed the mumps which came in my last year at school and 1 was glad enough to escape school and the work jobs 1 always had after school and at week-ends. I found a way of prolonging mumps. When the swelling recedes you're OK. I discovered that by vigorous chewing, the glands would swell again quite a bit, so before the family was up in the morning, I'd duck down to the apple trees and munch vigorously an apple or two and when Mum examined "the patient" she pronounced, "You can't get up yet". Unfortunately the ruse would only work for another day--and so back to the grind!

      About this same year, 1917 I think it was, Mum and Dad did something we'd never known them to do before. They went for a week's holiday--to Yallingup Caves and we four youngsters were left at home to hold the fort. Everything went OK till one day we had a violent thunderstorm and a green gum tree on the hill behind the house was struck by lightning and split from top to bottom. That event shook us a bit, and Mum, when she returned, wondered whether she'd done the right thing in leaving us alone.

      At the end of 1917--seeing I was 14 in January 1918--Dad thought it was time I left school and went to work--which meant of course, taking a job on a nearby orchard or garden. This I did and took a job with a Mr Ottaway whose place was about 3 miles further up Albany Rd. His orchard was not a very productive one and actually he wasn't much adept in this field. I really think he hated the occupation--and for some unknown reason thought he was a "cut above" the type who occupied themselves thus. He wasn't. I didn't enjoy myself in this, my first job, which rewarded me ten shillings a week and keep. But I did learn a few things. Because his orchard wasn't producing well he decided to fence his orchard and buy piglets just weaned, feed them for a few weeks and then kill them and send them dressed as porkers (about 70-80 lbs.) to Perth market. Each week we'd kill a few and I learned how to prepare them for market. Mr Ottaway had a big tub, hewn out of a large jarrah log in which we plunged the pig (after it was dead, of course) in boiling water and then we dragged it out on to a table (a flattened part of the same log) where the pig was scraped--the outer skin and hair came away easily. Then it was swung up by pulley ready for disembowelling and trimming. After a while I could, alone, clean and dress a pig in less than 1/2 an hour. I was only 14 then. The boss found a by-product in running the little pigs in his orchard. They rooted with their snouts continuously thus cultivating the ground and got out all the couch-grass and ate it (it was such a pest in all gardens) and then of course they fertilised the soil as a bonus! The fruit trees flourished as never before.

      After about a year there, much to our joy the war came to an end in November 1918 and everyone went wild with relief after years of pent-up emotions. Almost every home in the district had some members at the war. A few months after this I

left Ottoways and went home to work for awhile. At this time we had the wonderful news that Vic and Bert were to be demobilised and soon would be home. The great day came and Annie and I caught the first train to Fremantle to watch for the boat as it came on the horizon. We, in our excitement, walked out the end of the rocks on South Gage Heads and waited for the ship as it slowly--very slowly for us--made its way into the harbour, which is the mouth of the Swan River. Of course we waved and coo-eed frantically but couldn't distinguish any particular person in the barrage of khaki-coloured uniformed men lining the decks and they probably wondered who the lunatics were on the rocks. When the ship berthed at last and the troops came down the gangways we spotted "our boys" who had been away four years. They were lean and very brown. When we all got back to home, Mum and Dad prepared for the festive occasion with a fine spread and even Dad had painted a streamer of "Welcome". As we sat at our meal I remember Mum saying, "I can't understand how we are so fortunate to have all our boys home safe and some of our near neighbours and friends have suffered such awful losses". It was like Mum, in her moment of thanksgiving and joy to think of so many mothers for whom there was no homecoming for their boys. It was a most traumatic experience for those mothers when the boys began to arrive home.

      Bert was in military hospital for treatment of malaria for quite a time and then he joined Vic again and started working on farms and waiting the opportunity for Soldier Settlement Grants so that they could take up land of their own.

      I went to another job--working in a market garden for Ern Emmett about 5 miles from home along the Albany Rd. It was a place in the early stages of development with some of the block cleared and planted with young fruit trees, but the growing of vegetables for market was a means of livelihood till the trees were in full bearing. Ern was only a few years older than 1 and was a good boss and I learnt quite a bit there about growing vegetables. We worked hard and for long hours--and the hardest part was that we had to batch. Worked a full 6 day week, then I'd walk the five miles home on Saturday night. After Sunday dinner we'd go to Sunday School at Bedfordale and after that I'd continue on back to Emmetts and so to another week. It was whilst at Emmetts that I saw my first aeroplane. One flew over the property fairly low (no great heights for aeroplanes then) and it was, for us, moments of thrill and wonder. But the birds went crazy with fright and went shrieking and screaming in to the trees as if their end had surely come. They'd never seen a bird of such monstrous size before!

      Ere I leave this section of the story I must make a comment about the school friends who walked daily down to Armadale to school and then up the hill again after school--the Urens. Roy and Cooper were about my age and Grace was somewhere akin to Laura's and Les about Jack's. We had a lot of fun together and almost ceaseless arguments--about what I don't know--but how we argued! Roy and Cooper paired up as my verbal sparring partners and Grace and Laura were not one bit behind us, and then, though quite young, Les and Jack felt they had to honourably bring up the rear. So the relative values of this and that were thrashed through and through and I'm sure it wasn't a good day for any of us unless, in our groupings, we didn't have a ding-dong argument. But we still remained good friends. Of course we just dawdled home--to do the one mile distance in one hour would be a record, as we stood still every now and again to give emphasis to a point in our argument. Tension reached a high point between little Les and

Jack on one occasion when Les threatened "I'll go straight home and tell my Mum on you." Jack coolly replied, "Well, mind that you don't go bent!"

      A year or two after the war, with soldiers now home and looking for a place of their own, many of the properties along Albany Rd were sold. In fact few of the originals were there after a few years. The soldiers were aided by the government financially and many of the old owners were glad to sell out to the new blood as they had struggled to make a living for years. Markets weren't controlled then at all and often an orchardist or gardener would send a large consignment of fruit or vegetables to the Perth Produce Market and instead of getting a good cheque from the agent he would get an account for commission, handling etc! The market was over-supplied and the consignment had gone to the tip. I have no doubt the new owners didn't fare any better either. Properties changed frequently. Urens sold out before most others--they didn't depend on the orchard as Mr Uren travelled to Perth each day where he worked as a cabinet maker. Roy and Cooper took positions with department stores and Cooper remained with the one firm for his working life. I called on him not long before he died--about 10 years ago (1968). After leaving Armadale, the children became prominently associated with the Salvation Army in Perth and were highly esteemed. One Sunday morning, whilst on a visit to Perth, I was waiting for a bus at Maylands. A car went by and a hundred yards or so turned and circled back and drew up alongside of me. The chap in the car said, "I wonder if you happen to be Keith Jones." I made the obvious reply. It was Cooper Uren! I was amazed he recognised me as he drove past--it was well over 30 years since we'd seen each other and then we were only boys! He was a beaut fellow. Grace and Laura met up again through some function in Perth and kept in touch occasionally.

      About 1920 our near neighbours, Mr and Mrs Marsh, who had owned "Paradise" for many years bought a wheat and sheep farm at Brockton--17 miles out--and as Mr Marsh wanted a junior farm hand he asked if I'd like a job. Dad thought this was a better line for me than market gardening and suggested I accept. So I left Emmetts, and for the first time moved away from home.

      Just before I left Emmetts our family was to be spread out a bit, for George and Clara and their children, Lin and Doug, Jean and Gwen moved off to New Zealand where George had accepted a church there. Some of us went down to the boat to see them off and didn't mind the exercise until the boat began to move away from the pier, and NZ seemed a long way off from WA in those days, and I wondered if we'd ever see them again and I felt very disconsolate to say the least. As we walked back from the wharf to the business part of the city, Sam Taylor said, "How about going into this theatre nearby and seeing a picture"--it was an afternoon show. So we did. But one of the main features of the film was a ship taking people across the billowing ocean! However, seeing it was dark in the theatre, I was able to have release from my pent up feelings and had a good cry--and I was a big boy at the time!

      In 1918 a very pleasing event for us was a visit from Louie, whom we younger ones had never met. As a high school teacher, she had recently married a fellow teacher, Frank Thomas. He had gone to war service, so Louie came to WA to visit the family members for some months. She was very lonely for her recently-wed husband, as I remember, but everyone was glad to have her among us for quite a time. She and Olive

were particularly close in relationship because they had not only their childhood memories, but also the years that Olive was in Adelaide to strengthen family ties. Louie did not have long to await Frank's homecoming for the war was over at the end of 1918.

      I think it was early in 1920 when I took the train and alighted at Brookton in the early afternoon and there was no one on the station to meet me. I felt a bit deserted as I didn't know anyone in the town. I decided to go over to the main street to await the coming of the Marsh's. I went into a small shop to buy something and the lady owner asked me at once "You don't happen to be a brother of Clara Jones do you?" I could scarcely believe my ears, but owned up. She said, "You look so much like Clara--I thought you must belong to the same family." The lady was Mrs Rowl. Mott who became a good friend. (Her husband belonged to the Swan Hill Motts whom we stayed with on one occasion many years later.)

      The Marsh's arrived and we journeyed out to their farm per buggy and pair. I had the advantage of knowing them well before I went and of course their young people were our associates for years. The property they had bought had been rather run down and used mostly for grazing and a lot of the area had not been cleared. Mr Marsh wanted to grow wheat as well as run sheep, so land clearing used up much of my time, whilst he pursued the farming part. I resented this arrangement a bit because I had hoped to get practical farming experience with teams of horses and machinery etc. But this kind of farming was something new to Mr Marsh and naturally enough he wanted to do the main jobs. Another thing I didn't like much was the isolation of the farm--17 miles from a township, and the year or so I was with them I don't think I went to the town more than three times. Life became work through long hours, go to bed and get up again, off to work again, and so the record ran week after week. There was practically no social life outside the farm. About once a month there was a Methodist Church service in a hall about 8 miles away and we attended that when it came around. Whilst the Marsh family were nice people, I can't say I enjoyed my time with them much. Farm life seemed too isolated from people for me and I think I registered then that this was not the kind of life I wanted to pursue.

      I had an offer of another job four miles from the town with a Mr Wm. Ford, for whom Vic. had once worked and made a good name--an asset to his young brother. Mr Ford was mostly a wheat farmer and in fact was well known in WA for producing new strains of wheat to suit certain dry areas. Though more than middle age he had a family of 6. He was a good boss and I learned a lot from him, such as caring for a team of horses, ploughing, cultivating etc. As his wheat was carefully selected and propagated seed, he did the harvesting and quite often I walked ahead of the machine to spot any "foreign" heads of wheat and flick them off so as not to spoil his pure strain. During the months I was with him, Sundays being free, I walked the 4 miles into town each week and had good times at the church there, especially among the small group of young people. Hartley and Lily and family were in the town and I saw quite a bit of them. For a time Vic and Bert were also there, but they soon left to take up land of their own. Whilst there, I made friends with a Don Robinson whose parents had a farm some miles out of Brookton and we decided to

pair up and go on a project of clearing land for wheat-farming. This was a common activity, particularly after the war as vast areas of uncultivated land were being allotted to soldier settlers--and of course others. So I left Ford's. About this time, 1922, I think, the family sold the Armadale home and moved to Cottesloe, a lovely suburb between the sea and the Swan River about 8 miles from Perth on the Fremantle line. They chose a house one day, and when later in the day went back to finalise finance, the agent asked Dad if they really wanted that house because someone else had arrived who was keen about it. So Dad agreed to sell it and made several hundred pounds on it on the spot. They later bought a house in Keane St with a long backyard where Dad had some opportunity for exercise in growing vegetables and lucerne. Water was drawn by a windmill--a common thing in Perth. Of course there was water through the Water Board too.

      Even though right in the town, Mum had a cow in a yard behind the house, because after her long years of farm life she felt she couldn't possibly live life without her beloved cow and what it supplied. Her daughters didn't take after her and when Annie referred to them as "those wretches" Mum was quite upset. But the flies became such a nuisance for the poor cow in a confined space, that Mum couldn't see it suffer like that, so sold the last cow she ever owned.

      After walking a mile or more to school Laura and Jack were very pleased to have the school right across the street from our house. Another advantage was the proximity to the beach and river--both good places for swimming. This was a new experience to have the pleasure of a beautiful surf beach. When we lived at Armadale an annual event was the Sunday School picnic at South Fremantle beach. In fact, for us, it was THE day of the year, when we took the early morning train from Armadale via Jandakot for a full day at the beach. Annie was about 20 at the time when the move was made to Cottesloe and this provided a bit more variety, and there was also a church there to give opportunity for friendship and service. But I am not sure that Mum and Dad really liked suburban living after the wide open spaces which was their natural habitat.

      Soon after the move was made from Armadale various members of the family seemed to shift to new localities. Frank, Lottie and family had taken up residence at Gnowangerup (where Lottie's people lived). Frank, like the rest of the family, not having the opportunity for any special training, engaged in whatever manual work was available. Vic and Bert had been scouting around for suitable land for farming. Fred took up a block of virgin land at Miling, about 30 miles s.w. of Pithara. About this time also, Connie was married at our home in Cottesloe to John Tubby, an Englishman, who had a farm at Gutha, near Morawa, almost 300 miles north of Perth and this was her home for the rest of her life. She found life rather lonely in a sparsely settled area, and long and very hot summers were very tiring.

      With Don Robinson, plus a tent and a few axes, I left Brockton and took the train to Corrigin, a new developing area, 60 miles from Brockton. We did not have a job to go to, but went "on spec" believing there would be clearing work available. The first night we sought accommodation at the only hotel in the small new town--the hotel was one of the very few State-owned hotels in WA. The place was fully booked but the

manager offered us "a doss on the carpet" in the lounge room which we accepted and we were OK. Next day we made enquiries re the work we sought and got a contract to clear 100 acres about 10 miles out of town. So equipped with our tent, axes, some food and a camp oven we mounted our bikes and pushed our way out the 10 miles over mostly unmade roads and sandy tracks. We set up camp and slept on the ground the first night. I found Mother Earth hadn't much "give" in it. By the second night we got a couple of chaff bags from the farmer, threaded two poles through the bags lengthwise and sat these on four forked sticks set in the ground and we were set up for sleeping. I used this kind of bed many times in the years following--and I think it was standard gear for bushmen in those days and quite comfortable.

      In those days there were no mechanical machines to aid land clearing. The forest had to be ring-barked and when the trees had died they were burned down and later, if there was sufficient undergrowth (quite often there wasn't) a fire was set off in the fallen timber and much of it would be burnt. But generally the large logs and limbs would not take fire, so all this had to be heaped together by hand and set on fire. It would take days for big logs to bum up. Tree stumps had to be burned about 4 inches below the surface, so that when the ploughing took place, the stumps would not foul the plough-shares. The day was a ceaseless round of piling up the unburnt wood and then going around all the fires every hour or two to keep the fires stoked up and throw in the ends. Last thing at night before going to bed we'd make the final round and attend to all the lighted heaps and I always enjoyed seeing the scores and scores of bright fires on dark nights, out in the isolated bush. It's quite a nice feeling when you see large cleared areas where a few weeks before there was a tangle of fallen trees. So gradually the contract was completed--we got paid and took ourselves and gear to a neighbouring farmer where we took a larger contract.

      Don and I thought we'd get a man to help us and as local "hands" were scarce we went to Perth to the Immigration Dept. to see if we could get a migrant. They advised they were sending one on to us. Poor fellow! Straight from London--into the primitive bush to "rough it" in a tent with two bachelors doing the cooking in a camp oven. I recall meeting this "peaches and cream" complexioned young fellow in Corrigin and taking him out the 10 miles through scrub country with hardly a house in sight. He asked me if we were on the telephone! And a few other questions of that level. I often wondered what he thought when he saw our camp--one tent, with a large canopy out front made of wheat bags which served as our "dining and sitting room". Anyway, despite his deficiencies in practical experience he wasn't all that bad. After we'd finished our contract, the farmer asked us if we would put a rabbit-proof fence around one of his large paddocks. (Rabbits at this time were a great pest and with the area being mostly bushland any cultivated parts were swooped on by the rabbits--and also kangaroos, as prime feeding places.) We'd never done rabbit-proof fencing before, but it wasn't very different from other types except that we had to dig a trench about 5 inches deep all around the paddock and sink the lower part of the netting in the trench. When we finished this job we left Corrigin and the Pom who worked for us continued on the same farm as a workman. Don and I returned to Brookton where we did another clearing job and then we decided to go our separate ways as we'd both been offered other jobs. I've never caught up with Don since, but when I was visiting

for the College at Wubin (near Morawa) I unexpectedly met two of his sons (in their 20's) who were working there and attended the church in that little centre.

      Frank Hail offered me a job with him at Gnowangerup during the wheat harvest. Frank had a contract at several sidings in the district on the wheat stacks. In those days there were no silos for the farmers to shoot their grain into at sidings, but all the wheat was bagged and carted by wagon and teams to the siding where it was then put into big stacks. So our job was handling each bag, weighing 200 lbs. plus, from the wagon and carrying it up the stack till there was a huge stack about 20 feet high. That was hard work and we always hoped the arrival of wagons wouldn't be too close together. When there were sufficient railway trucks after the harvest ended, it was reverse action and the bags carried on ones back, and put in the trucks. Elevators were not in then, and of course, the stack was sometimes exposed to all weathers. Sometimes roofs were put on if trucking was likely to be delayed, which it often was.

      That seasonal work over, Frank had a job as Overseer for the local Road Board for the construction of quite a few road construction jobs-particularly building fords over creeks, of which there were many in the district. When near town I lived with Frank and family and joined Frank in jobs, with other workman, of course. I often wondered how those fords have stood up to the years of water wear! Much of the time we were many miles from the town, so it was back to tent life and the old camp oven again. After some months in this type of work I was offered a job in a large general store in Gnowangerup and this pleased me as I was keen to get into a position with some future in it, and I had always been attracted to business life. Mr Lee, my boss was good to work for and he was a keen and discerning business man and I soon picked up points of profit and loss, merchandising etc from him. Whilst he was smart in buying and selling he was not so good morally, his home life was very shaky, and sometime later, much to the consternation of the town, after all hands had left the shop in the evening, the place was seen to be ablaze. Being an old building it took no time to be levelled to the ground. There was no fire brigade in the town. When the place was all aflame, Mr Lee dramatically made a dash to get to his office to retrieve his books and another fellow and I grabbed him for if he'd gone in at that time he would have surely perished. As events turned out, most people believed it was just putting on a show, and actually his financial affairs were in a mess. Not many doubted that he had set alight to the premises after we left work and before he finally locked up for the night. He still made out that he'd start afresh and indeed, we set up in a small shop next door and got in fresh supplies. We traded thus for a few weeks and then he told me he'd have to get new finance to re-build, and as he was an Englishman he was going by the next boat to London to get money from his family to re-establish himself. So off he and his wife went and he asked me to manage the business till his return in 3 or 4 months. This I agreed to do and a few weeks went by and the bills from the warehouses began to pour in. I had never had anything to do with keeping his books, so I didn't know how his accounts with the Perth suppliers were. A very short time after, seeing outstanding accounts remained unpaid, the warehouses in Perth said, "No money--we will cease supplying you." We had no alternative but to shut up shop. I consulted a solicitor and he said the man would be declared a bankrupt which indeed he was. Through the weeks of turmoil 1 didn't receive my wages, so the solicitor told me to file my account as in final settlement of a bankrupts affairs, salaries are always paid in full and others get just

what is left--if anything. Sometime later, the Bankruptcy Court paid my account in full. Apart from this payment, I don't know how other creditors fared, for shortly after the store was forced to close, I left Gnowangerup as I wanted to continue in this type of employment and there weren't any openings in Gnowangerup. I believe Mr Lee did ultimately return to the town and engaged in some kind of business.

      For some months before I came to Gnowangerup my mind had been in rather a state of turmoil as the conviction had come home to me that life could be spent in its highest form in service to God and man. Some may say this strong feeling is a definite "call". I find it hard to say--that this was so in my case--but I can assert with honesty that the issue kept on coming back to me again and again at unwanted moments. I was very happy in the kind of work I was now engaged and had no desire to leave it. I didn't at any time think I had any particular gifts or potential that qualified me for the ministry--yet the disturbing thought kept recurring. I'd forced it to the back of my mind on numerous occasions and said "This is not for me." I can say firmly this was no shadow boxing--it was a most difficult and disturbing struggle. Though I can't remember discussing the matter with Frank and Lottie with whom I was boarding, but the very atmosphere of their home did help me at the time. They were a fine couple, highly esteemed in the community because of their kindly interest in people and their readiness to help anyone in need. They stood for what they believed right and Christian, and did it with joy and no display of "holier than thou" attitude. Their standards helped me in the critical years around 20. I will always be grateful for what they did for me, without knowing they were doing it.

      I wrote to George Fitzgerald who was then in Invercargill, NZ, about my turmoil of mind and sought his thinking on the issue. He said, among other things, "Don't go in for the ministry if you can possibly keep out of it." As time went on I found it very hard to say, "No" and by the time I left Gnowangerup, I felt I'd have to give in and say "Yes".

      In a small country town as Gnowangerup was, it was not always easy to stand up and show one's colours against a background of fairly poor quality living, generally. I was thankful for my early home training. There were some fine folk in the little Baptist Church in the town--and I attended there and also taught a class in the Sunday School. I think I was about the only young man in the town that did. Consider my surprise when a fellow came into the shop one day "slightly under the influence" and he was very chummy and wanting to be confidential and he said to me, "Keith, do you know what the chaps in the town call you?" "No, I don't," I replied. "Well" said he "they call you "The Bishop"!! One person who stood out--at least for the youth group in this small church was a Mrs Rowe. She was really a Methodist, but couldn't get on with the local Methodists and she became the Secretary of the Baptist Church--but she wasn't a Baptist! She was a strong minded woman but kindly and s he did a lot to cultivate this youth group and keep them together and she won the esteem and appreciation of all for going out of her way to be a friend.

      There was a fairly large group of aborigines who lived on the fringe of the town--poor degraded things mostly--brought low, of course, by white people and their

shabby habits. Occasionally, on Sunday afternoon's we'd go up to their camp and have a meeting with them. Some professed to be Christian. Lottie was a friend and confidante of quite a few of these people and they often came to her home to confide their woes and troubles and she always tried to help them in any ways she could. One day Lottie got quite a surprise and some amusement. There had been a few noticeable earth tremors in the town and some of the aborigines had been terrified. An old gin who was looked on as the Queen of the local group, and allegedly very religious--on occasions--came to tell Lottie about their fright the night before when there was a tremor. Most of the older ones were huddled in their mias, but a group of young fellows were sitting around the fire outside gambling--not very worried. Suddenly there was a bad tremor, and the old gin said, "Mrs Lottie, I yelled at them young'uns--"God damn yers, can't you hear the Lord Jesus knocking at you. Listen!!"

      So very regretfully I left Gnowangerup and the happy associations. It was a pleasant place in which to live, with the backdrop of lovely blue Stirling Ranges standing up like huge sentinels above the surrounding fairly flat country. They were about 40 miles from Gnowangerup. I went home to Cottesloe to have a break and also assisted the Bankruptcy Court for a week or two with Mr Lee's affairs. Then I secured a new job in a store at Kellerberrin about 125 miles from Perth on the Eastern line. My new boss, Mr Rock, was a Pom and a fairly strict type. I found board with a Mrs Cosh who was a member of our church. On the first day I found that Tom Marsden was also in the town at the Bank of NSW. I had known him in Perth. So bit by bit our group widened. A brother of Arthur Stephenson was also a jeweller in the town. On Sunday afternoon we used to meet in Mrs Cosh's lounge room for fellowship and communion and attended the Methodist Church at night. After a time in Kellerberrin I'd made a firm decision to write to the Principal of the College of the Bible (Glen Iris, Melbourne) with a view to studying there. I got a reply from Principal Main and I was aghast when I looked at the hand written letter and I remember saying, "The man has written to me in shorthand and I can't decipher shorthand." The writing looked as if a spider had fallen in the ink bottle and crawled across the page. I looked hard and after a while I was able to make out some words and finally got most of the message--I would be admitted. I didn't like giving up my good job and leaving pleasant associations.

      Dad was obviously unenthusiastic about what I was doing, though he never voiced opposition. Mum didn't say much, but I knew I had her blessing as I said "good-bye" to her, and she simply said, "I know you will do well"--dear Mum, she always expected the best of all her children. Six of us entrained in Feb. 1926 to make our first trip to Glen Iris--Viv. Stafford, Vic Whelan, Ern Miles, Cec Robinson, Tom Bamford and me. That first night on the train in a second class carriage to Kalgoorlie! Each compartment had six sleepers--narrow shelves on each side wall and our cases, all in the one room. There was only space enough for one of us to undress and get to bed whilst the others

stood outside in the passage. When we boarded the Overland at Kalgoorlie accommodation was better--4 to a compartment. When we got to Pt. Augusta it was terribly hot, dusty and smoky. We learned that there had been shocking bush-fires in Victoria--and all the way from then on the train journey was the worst--by far--that I've ever experienced.

      In Melbourne we were met by Les Peacock, a WA man who'd just completed his course at the College. I was overwhelmed at the size of the station and the endless number of railway tracks and trains darting hither and thither. I asked Les how many years it would take to find one's way about in such a city! Les said, "Anyway", with his dry wit, "you'll find it easy to remember the train you take to get to Glen Iris, it bears the name of 'DARLING'. "He was having a dig at Viv. and Cec. who'd left tearful sweethearts at Perth station.

      With an inadequate education and having been away from school for 8 years, a life of study was anything but easy at first, but living in College with over 50 men from all parts of Australia and New Zealand was a great experience.

      In my first year--3 months after arrival--news came that George, Clara and family were returning from NZ and locating at Ballarat, which gave me a family member within easy reach. I went to stay with them in Ballarat for a College vacation and froze--I'd never struck anything as cold as that city.

      I think it was in 1927 that Mum and Dad came over to Adelaide to visit their brothers and sisters and later came on to Ballarat to stay with the Fitzgeralds whom they had not seen for about 6 years. I joined them there for a few days and when I was about to return to Melbourne Dad pressed a one pound note in my hand, much to my surprise. As far as I can remember, that was the only money he gave me in his life-time. However, it just about paid for my ticket to Ballarat! During that visit to Adelaide, I think Mum and Dad must have scouted the idea of returning to live in that city, for it was 1928, I think that they sold the Cottesloe home and came to live in Torrens Park, SA. I think this was mainly Dad's idea, for Mum hated leaving most of her family in WA. After sometime in Adelaide, I'm sure Dad realised he had made a mistake and suggested a return to WA but by that time of life Mum felt it was too difficult to make another new home. So they stayed, but until Laura came to live with them they were very lonely at times. I used to get across to see them once a year and then in about 1933 the Fitzgerald's moved to Maylands which helped.

      After 4 years at College, at the end of 1929, I decided to go home for the first time since leaving for College. It was great to see family, friends and familiar places again. At the time I had been student-minister at Hampton for 18 months and they paid me my salary all the time I was away--for 3 months. My salary was, two pounds and ten shillings, which was the highest paid student then. I've often thought how generous they were. In the three previous Christmas vacations I worked full-time in putting and keeping the College garden in order--a job I enjoyed as it was good to do manual labour again and fall into bed at night physically tired rather than the usual run of the College year, going to bed mentally weary. The College paid the handsome sum of one shilling and sixpence an hour, so for a six day week the pay was about 3 pounds ten shillings. This money served to set me up in clothes, pay fees, buy books and odds and ends. I paid my board out of my money from the church and was able this way to scrape through 5 years of College

without going into debt. When I left College at the end of 1930 I had the magnificent sum of fifteen shillings as my financial asset. In my first year, when I didn't have any income I got to "the bottom of the barrel" in the last term of the year and I hadn't any money to pay my board for the week--and it had to be paid. There was a Student Loan Fund for extreme cases and as much as I loathed the thought, I'd made up my mind to go up the next day to Mr Main and request a loan of ten pounds to carry me on till I could work in the vacation and repay it. Then when I collected my mail in the afternoon, there was a letter from Uncle Allen enclosing a ten pound note. Bless him! How about that now?

      College life for me was terribly demanding as I wasn't a quick student and had to slog all the way. I suppose my marks were average--or just a bit above--and the course was full enough just with study alone. But in order to pay our way--and also to get practical experience--we had to have a student church. For 18 months I was assistant to Mr Scambler, one of our lecturers, at Hawthorn for which I received one pound per week and paid my fares to and from. Then I was appointed to Hampton, a church of about 100 members then, at two pound ten shillings per week. Duties were all day Sunday, Monday night Boys' Club, Wednesday night take the prayer meeting and study, and on each of the afternoons do visiting if able. That was without any extras, which often occurred. Then of course, there was the time taken for sermon preparation, talks etc. Domestic chores at College also made inroads, for I was Students' Secretary for one year--keeping students domestic accounts, collecting board each week etc, and then the following 2 years I was Student President, which didn't involve so much detailed work as Secretary, but general supervision of student affairs and liaison with the Principal re those--and odds and ends innumerable. One certainly had to learn the discipline of time, every minute of it, and every serious student who also shared fully College responsibilities, was in the same boat. It was a rewarding life though, even if demanding.

      I concluded my College course in 1930 and gained the College Diploma which involved a 60% grade--at least--in all subjects of the course. Then came the wrench of leaving College and all the strength and richness of a very close fellowship. 14 others finished the same year, and we were all going out into a fairly bleak world for the Great Depression was just beginning. Choosing where to go for ministry is always a teasing question at the end of College. I had 4 offers from churches--including Hampton, where I had served as student for 2 and a half years, and I was happy there and decided to continue. Then it was a matter of finding a suitable place to board. An elderly lady member commended me to a Mrs Wright--an elderly widow who lived alone in a sizeable house. This is where I first went. The place was very clean and meals quite good, but she was stone-deaf so it was more than difficult to make her understand, although she could lip read a bit. She was a very excitable person and come a thunder and lightning storm, she'd shut herself in the linen press! Poor soul, she'd had a sad life. Her husband had died many years before leaving her with one girl. This girl, Rosalie, married a soldier in the first World War and toward the end of the war she had notice that her husband was coming home and then a couple days later she got word that he'd been killed. She lost her mental balance in her grief and was in Sunbury Asylum with no hope of recovery. Mrs Wright lost her hearing with the shock and lived from then on an almost hermit life. She had no other relatives and no close friends. After I'd been boarding there for a year or more I noticed that she'd have periods of excitability and she must have been taking some strong sedative

when she went to bed, because she wouldn't appear till mid-morning and looked very doped. There was another boarder in the house and he and I thought we'd persuade her to see a doctor, which she did. He reported to me that he thought she would lose her reason. So I made other arrangements for board as it was clear she couldn't cope. (However, she didn't go dotty, but improved a bit and moved to another district. The boarder continued with her and quite a while after, I learned that she had become physically very ill, and as she had no one to care for her, this boarder was wonderful in doing all he could for her until she passed away.)

      I took up board with a Miss Hunter who conducted a guest house, "White Lodge", a fine, large building. She was a large lady with a self-opinion to match. An ex-nurse she was a dominating old character and had very few friends because of this--and also very few guests because they couldn't put up with her. I think I made a record in staying 2 and a half years--until I left Hampton. She belonged to the "New Thought" Sect--a kind of pseudo-psychology mixed with a bit of Christianity and other odd bits. From what I could gather it was a matter of "thought control" of everything--transmission of thoughts, here, there and everywhere. Some years after I left she developed a growth in the breast, and didn't seek medical aid, because she could cure herself with holding and cultivating the right "thoughts". But things didn't turn out that way and when nearing her end, I heard about her and visited her in hospital. She glared at me as I entered the ward and said bitterly "Mr Jones, life has cheated me." Poor lonely soul, she appreciated my call.

      My years at Hampton were shadowed by the terrible depression--about half of the working people of the church lost their jobs, particularly those linked in some way with the building trade, for building work came to a full stop for a couple of years. Some fine people who'd not been out of work ever before, even for a day, were thrown on the scrap heap and the dole. These years gave me a deep insight into their suffering--and their faith and courage in adversity. We did all we could to help them and also the masses in the community who were workless and in need. The dole then was only a pittance and people to-day (1978) when there's much unemployment, have no conception of real hardship, with the social provisions which are now available.

      I found lots to encourage in my years at Hampton, but it was not an easy field. In fact seaside places, I think, usually are, but there were many fine people in the membership who strengthened the hands of the minister. Some progress was made, especially in work among young people.

      On two occasions I had been invited to lead the Young People's Dept. in Victoria (now Christian Education Dept.) but I refused as I didn't want to leave Hampton and I wasn't at all sure that I could cope with Department work as I'd only been in the full time ministry for a few years and was short on experience. However, the Dept. pressed me for a third time and I succumbed to their invitation. I knew I was taking on something in faith--as they were in me, of course--but it was very soon after the depression in 1934 and added to that the Dept. had been without a full time leader for several years, and there was very little in finance available. In fact, the Annual Offering for

the Dept. (the main source of finance) in that year was a mere 126 pounds. I asked the Dept. for six months before taking up the appointment as I wanted to get a bit more experience in this type of work--so I made arrangements to travel to Great Britain to learn and observe. I left on the "Moreton Bay" on May 19th, 1934 and after arriving in London I spent a week with friends and then enrolled at Westhill Training College, Selly Oak, Birmingham for a post-graduate course. After this I visited various areas to observe different types of youth work and attended several camps, Between sightseeing I wedged in as much time as possible in "taking in" all aspects of Christian work, some of this included listening to the greatest preachers of the world, at that time. After having a brief glance at a bit of the Continent, I left for home on the "Varkunda" from Marseilles. I stopped off for 2 weeks in India--for the Mission staff had urged me to make a call on my way home. It was a most fascinating and rewarding two weeks. Then back to Melbourne and to work! Arrived home on Nov. 8th. I might add, for the six months I had no pay and all my travelling costs, accommodation etc were off my own bat. Of course, I was "flat broke" on return, but it didn't matter much to me as I was single.

      I shared an office with Conference Executive in the T & G Building, Melbourne for the 7 years I was with the Dept. and this helped me a lot as it was the meeting place of the various church leaders, as well as others who made calls there. It was a massive job initially getting to know "my parish" which instead of being a local area, it now encompassed the whole of Victoria with 125 churches. For the first year or two I travelled widely by train to familiarise myself with the churches, youth leaders, church boards etc and in between I was trying to get a grip of what organisations were in existence, how effective they were, and what else needed to be innovated to cater for obvious needs. I didn't have any office assistance and had to attend personally to all inward and outward correspondence of which there was plenty. I started "2 finger exercise" on the typewriter--a slow job, at first. To really do the job a car became a necessity, so after a couple of years, having saved a bit out of my five pounds per week, I bought a new "Wolseley"--a small car--and went deeply into debt for over 2 years repaying the loan to the I.A.C. All my salary each week apart from modest living costs went into the car. The Dept. didn't offer a penny nor did they pay travelling costs, at first (very different from these days in 1978, when there are now conditions of comparative affluence for preachers--with reasonable salaries and car costs, plus manses etc.). But I'm not complaining, it was the same for most other ministers then, and I didn't want anything different from them.

      Young peoples' camps were just beginning to "take on" at this time--although quite a few people were scandalised at the thought of young people, male and female-going off for a week or so camping together! Hitherto, such camps as were conducted, were strictly male or female. Once they got going the camps took off in a big way and now-a-days are an important feature for all levels of young people--and in recent times adult and family camps, with a particular purpose, are popular features. In my day the camps were all training camps with a fairly solid programme and the age group was mostly 16-24 years. We got to know hundreds of young people in camps over the 7 years and it is always a pleasure after all the intervening years, to meet these folk in the churches. Most of them are grandparents and more now. It was at my first camp in Daylesford in Dec. 1934 that I first met a lass from Yarrawonga, Alma Cowper. For some

reason--training I suppose--she attended subsequent camps and we commenced looking at each other, and later I was a visitor to a farm in Lake Rowan.

      The Young People's Dept. was an absorbing task 7 days a week for there were so many auxiliaries to head up and requests for help or attendance at endless young people's meetings and functions up and down Victoria. I came to know all Victorian roads very well. In addition, office work had to be attended to. I think one of the good fruits of those years was the commencement of Explorer and Good Companion Clubs. This movement was a new concept for junior boys and girls and we had to fashion the whole structure and programme as it was a movement of our own devising and something new and put into action by Churches of Christ. It was encouraging to note the growth of the movement and its value to the churches over the past 40 years. In 1941, with the Dept. strongly established in the Churches--and also financial for the first time in its history, I decided the time had come to resign. Another reason was that I was now a family man and could not be constantly away from home as I had been in earlier years.

      Whilst on my way to Hall's Gap to conduct the Camp for the Western District, Alma accompanying me, in February 1940, I was intercepted at Ararat by the minister there to say that a telegram had been received to say that Dad had died that morning. I had to hand over the leadership of the camp to others and caught the Adelaide train about mid-night at Ararat. On arriving home I found Mum very calm, and self-possessed. Annie and Wilk, who were then in Murray Bridge, arrived soon after me. Dad's body was laid to rest in the Mitcham, SA, Cemetery which is only about half a mile from where they lived. Annie and I were the only direct family members present, as the Fitzgeralds had returned to NZ a few months before.

      Just one year earlier, Laura and Don had been married in Mile End Church, by Don's father, during a heat-wave--it was 105 degrees Fahrenheit on the wedding day, and humid at that. As Dad at the time was not up to it, I gave the bride away. After a brief honeymoon the couple left to make their home in Narrogin, WA. So Mum and Dad were on their own again for a year. When Dad died Mum was very sensible about thinking of her future. She said "I know I've got to re-adjust to a new life" and at 75 it wasn't easy for her. I suggested that, perhaps she could have a companion to live with her in her own home. This she said she could not do, as she'd never, in 50 years of married life, had anyone to live in the home apart from family members. However, later, whilst Connie was spending a few weeks with her, a letter came from Laura and Don asking Mum to join them for awhile at Narrogin. This she did and the house was let, although Mum stored most of her things in Adelaide.

      In October 1939 Alma and I had become engaged and fixed our marriage date for June 8 the next year. This took place on the due date in the College of the Bible Chapel, on a grey, cold and showery day. Mr T. H. Scambler, a close friend of mine, married us. From the time I took up work with the Young Peoples' Dept. I had been living at the College. For the first year, as Principal and Mrs Main were going overseas for most of that year, I had been invited by the College Board to be Housemaster during their absence. This task fulfilled, the Board said I could continue to live at the College if it

suited me and as this was a good arrangement for me I lived here several years until I was married. So for me it was almost like being married at home, for, altogether, by this time, as a student earlier, and then boarding, I'd been at the College for over 11 years. I might comment that the College Chapel had only just been completed and opened the Saturday before our wedding. As can be imagined I was holding my breath, as with a war on, building materials were not easily available and the builder was behind schedule! However he made it--just. Naturally we were the first couple married there. Reception was at East Malvern and we went for a week to Mornington. For the first six months we lived in the home of Alma's Uncle Rowl. at Brighton as he and his wife had temporarily gone to Millicent SA where Uncle was setting up a cellulose plant to process the trimmings of the large re-afforestation pine plantations in the area. The plant at Snuggery is still in production. It did not belong to Uncle Rowl.--but that was "his line". When they returned, we rented a house in Howard St., Glen Iris. On 2nd July 1941, to our great joy, Llynne was born. And just about this time, I decided to close my work with the Young People's Dept. and accepted an invitation to go to Maylands Church, SA and we left for Adelaide in mid-September.

      Just before Mum went to Narrogin in 1940 Laura and Don had made fabulous family history--by becoming parents of twin girls--Patricia and Pamela. So Mum had an added good reason to go to Laura until her affairs settled down. She soon found herself encircled by love and the presence of two little babies also helped to fill Mum's life. Moreover, she found that she was able to take a bit of the load of baby care off Laura and one self-appointed task was the daily babies washing. She just worshipped those little girls. She said she'd never had time to enjoy her own babes, with her big family and many duties, as she did with Patsy and Pamela. So, in a very pleasant and fulfilling way, Mum found a problem solved, about where to live and what to do. And added to all that, she was back to where most of her family lived and though they were scattered, she was able to see them sometimes.

      In Sept., 1941, Alma, Llynne (3 months) and I got in our little Prefect and headed for Adelaide--and a new world, both in location and work. In the end, it was very hard to leave Victoria and the work among thousands of young people and others. For the first few months at Maylands it seemed quite odd to have my activities restricted to a local area--about a one mile circumference around the church building, after roving constantly over the State of Victoria. And, of course, the type of work was also very different. The first house we had was not at all convenient--a rented place. We lived in it for just over one year, and with the war on, housing was very difficult. Whilst we were in this house, soldiers from the Middle East were suddenly brought home and dumped in their thousands in Adelaide. As all military camp sites were already filled with Australian and American troops, the "Powers" decreed that the returning soldiers were to be domiciled in our district (3 miles from the city) in private homes. We weren't asked--we were all told how many soldiers we were to accommodate. We were all allocated 3 men. Our house wasn't large, so we arranged their sleeping on a large front veranda and they mealed with us--and otherwise shared our home. They were with us 3 months and in that time they never missed one meal! They were often in the city and could have eaten there, but they'd come home on the tram, have their meal and return to the city till the next meal! It was a bit tough on Alma with her babe to care for--especially when the military just conscripted us.

      However, we got through--and we quite liked the fellows who came to us. Some householders nearby had some unhappy experiences (Jack was among those who returned from the Middle East and he was housed a few streets away from us--if we'd been able to choose we would have liked to have him as one of our number). Our fellows, after military camp fare, just loved having salads dished up to them. In fact one man, "Chilla"--would eat a whole head of Adelaide celery at one sitting!

      After about a year, we went deeply into debt and put a deposit on a suitable house, not far from the Church and lived there for 2-3 years. As we had to spend quite a bit on repairs, the financial strain was a bit too much and as a much nicer home was offered to us for rent, we sold our house, repaid our debt and moved for a third time (at this time, very few churches provided manses). Despite this inconvenience we loved living in Adelaide, and soon realised we were serving amongst people whom it was easy to love. No minister and his wife could wish for more kindly and co-operative people. With a membership of over 300 and more than 350 in the Sunday School there was always plenty to do--but the work was a pleasure. It was, of course, during the war for most of our period there, and great strains were on many families as we had almost 50 lads and lasses in one or other branch of military service. Another factor which could have made for real difficulty was that I was a pacifist and didn't hide my colours--though I didn't use the pulpit to continuously press my point. But I did uphold what I considered to be the Christian point of view on this whole vexed question. Quite a few strong minded folk held the opposite view, and although the subject came up quite a few times, there were no fights and no rifts. Such was the spirit of these beloved people.

      In the very week that war was ended in 1945, a devastating sorrow fell on us, when Llynne, after a brief illness, passed away with leukaemia. She had been the joy of our lives for just four years, and a more loving and loved child could hardly be imagined. Always very sensitive and shy she had played a large part in our hopes and dreams. Ian, was only two and a quarter years at her going, and in his own way felt deeply the mystery of her death and even at that early age, searched for the "whys and the wherefores" by his ceaseless questions.

      Whilst the war was in progress in early 1944 we got word that Mum was ill in Narrogin Hospital. Naturally, this brought concern to the whole family. I enquired of her Dr. concerning her and he doubted that she would recover. As travel by civilians was almost impossible to secure--the forces had commandeered all transport, I got a statement from Mum's Dr. and this was sufficient to get a train ticket to Narrogin. Annie was able to get permission to travel over about a week after me and on the return trip to Adelaide we were booked on the same train, with other passengers almost all on war service.

      Don met me about mid-night at Narrogin and next morning I went to the hospital to see Mum and she seemed her usual sweet self. Just a little more frail looking and when she saw me she expressed that it was a pity I should come all that way to see her. For a few days, I went to see her a couple of times each day and most of the time she seemed about the same--just a bit wandery on one or two occasions. Then I had to leave for Perth and for the trip back to Adelaide. Mum was under good medical care and to make her comfortable was about all anyone could do. It was a great comfort to me--and to all the family, I'm sure--that for the 4 years since Dad's death, she had been so happy in the home of Laura and Don. I think about the best that one could say about his

mother-in-law was voiced at that time by Don when he commented, "We've been very happy in our married life and its been all the happier because of Mum being with us." When Mum went to hospital Judy and Jill were 4 months old. About 2 weeks after I got home to Adelaide, word came that Mum had suddenly and quietly passed on. All the family in WA who could attend gathered for the service in Narrogin. On the head-stone Laura and Don arranged for a very suitable scriptural quotation, "Her children rise up and call her blessed."

      The next few years we continued our work at Maylands and during 1947 I was invited by the College Board to become Secretary and Housemaster at the College of the Bible and this task I accepted to begin in January 1948. There was the usual sadness in leaving a wonderful church family at Maylands, and a few of our dear friends made us feel positively wicked about breaking our links with them. Alma hated leaving Adelaide, she'd felt so much at home there and the uprooting was not what she would have chosen for herself

      Loading up the faithful little Prefect we pulled ourselves up the Adelaide Hills, took a last affectionate look at the city on the plain, and sped on our way--a foursome: Ian, four and a half years; Meredith one and a half years; and their Mum and Dad.

      Housing was impossible in Melbourne in those after war years, and after an improvised flat at the College for 12 months, we moved into our house at 3 Elm Rd, which took over one year to build, and many more years to pay for! Much could be written about our experiences at Glen Iris but will finish our rather long family ramble here. Twenty-one years of work with the College was enjoyable and working in close co-operation with Principal Lyall Williams and other staff members was an all-stops-out experience but happy. Bruce joined our family in 1949. I'm glad I followed the urge to serve Christ and the Church over 50 years ago--and given the chance again, I'd choose the same course.

      OLIVE EMILY CHAPMAN, born 1881. Married Samuel Taylor, Grocer, at Armadale 1912. Children: Geoffrey, Clifford, Betty, Lawrence (died in Changi Prison, Singapore, 1945), Kathleen, Leonard. Olive was a quiet person with a strong will. Fine appreciation of literature and a gifted writer, although the demands of family and business did not provide her with much time to enjoy these gifts. She was a great help to Mum in the early years of her married life and all their lives there was a strong bond between them. From Olive's marriage till her death she lived in Fremantle, mostly behind the several grocery shops which Sam had at different times in that city, and on occasions she assisted in the shops. Her fife for the first few years after marriage was made extremely difficult by her mother-in-law who shared the home. Sam was the only child and being widowed she was jealous of another woman coming into Sam's life and affairs, and she didn't mind taking her spite out on Olive. As Sam commented later: "My mother was Irish and a spitfire." Of course it was hard for him to be a loyal son and a devoted husband in the situation, but he was the latter anyway. Olive's life, when the family was young was complicated by Sam's poor health and indifferent custom in the business. Fremantle at that time was not a prospering area. They had their times of struggle for years but came through them creditably and had a happy old age, both of them travelling into their 80's. Sam was a lay preacher all his adult life and Olive supported him wholeheartedly in this and all his endeavours.

      WILLIAM HARTLEY, married Lily Leach in 1912 at Fremantle. Children: Warwick, Frank, Harold (Hal), Allan, James (Jim), Leila, Marcia (neither of the girls married) Hartley was tall and well built. Possessed a fine bass voice and in his younger days did quite a bit of singing. All his life he was a lover of sport and was quite good at cricket, tennis and golf Also a capable foot runner in his youth. Became a farmer, but did not prosper in that occupation as some who knew him well in the early days said he didn't put his heart into it. Through lack of training in any other field he later became a casual worker in the Brookton district. Later in his life he had a permanent position with the Government Railways as caretaker of the railway engine (steam) sheds at Brookton, then at Beverley and later at Bridgetown in the South West. He died in his early sixties, but his wife lived into her mid-eighties and died in our church home, in Perth. Hal was seriously wounded in the Second World War and in mid-life developed serious trouble from which he died. Frank also died in mid-life in Geneva, Switzerland. After education overseas he'd spent his working life with the I.L.0 (International Labour Organisation) in Geneva mostly but also in India and Nigeria.

      FRANK DAY, married Charlotte Laurie Bennett in 19133. Children: Joy, Harry, Ray (deceased at 1 year old), Daisy, Russell, Beryl. Frank spent his early working life on the Brockton and other farms. After marriage he bought a house in Brookton, naming it "Sassafras" after the lovely Dandenongs area. Whilst he was at the College of the Bible for one year in 1911 he visited Sassafras and loved its beauty. I assure you Brookton was nothing like Sassafras, Victoria! Frank worked for some years at Westralian Farmers Co-op as an agent, mostly for machinery etc, in the Brookton District. Later, the family spent some years in Gnowangerup where Frank was engaged in a number of different occupations. Sometime after this they moved to Narrogin, again following various jobs and often these were hard to come by in country towns when he had not been trained for any specific task. Some years later they moved to the city, where Frank took up a position as agent and collector for the Parkerville Children's Homes and travelled widely in WA seeking financial support for the homes. At quite a few times of need, as the family was growing up and being educated, Lottie, always a practical woman, added to the family income by having several borders. Frank died in his sixties and Lottie passed on when she was about 80 in 1975.

      LOUISA, married Frank Thomas in 1916. Children: Robert, Margaret (Meg), John. Louie was only a babe when her mother died, and her maternal grand-parents took her into their home. However, whilst Louie was still very young her grandmother died and a bit later her grandfather re-married and this did not work out happily for the little girl. In fact she had a very sad time as her step-grandmother made her life a misery. How long this family arrangement lasted I do not know, but I think she must have later gone to live with the grandparents Jones, especially whilst Olive was in Adelaide. She trained as a secondary school teacher and after graduation she was appointed to Jamestown and several other country centres until she met and married Frank Thomas, also a high school teacher. She went with him to Strathalbyn, SA where he was Head of the new school there for quite a few years. Appointments to Boolaroo Centre and Kapunda followed and Louie died following a stroke whilst at Kapunda.

      CLARA BLANCH, born at Kerang, Vic., in 1891. Married George Thomas Fitzgerald at Armadale, WA, in 1912. Children: Lindsay, Douglas, Jeannie, Gwenyth, Enid, Nancy, Keith, Marjorie. Unlike her practical mother, Clara, by nature was much more a "Mary" than a "Martha". I remember as a little boy at Brookton, how cross Dad used to get when she used to be lost in a world of dreaming sweet dreams when Mum was needing busy hands and feet in the many practical duties of the home. Always a gentle and sweet person she lived in her ideal world and found the realities of the daily round and the common task a bit uninspiring at times. Her marriage to George brought much happiness and fulfilment to both. Their first home was in Bunbury and then followed Basendean and Subiaco where George had ministries. Then they moved to Invercargill in New Zealand after which they went to Nelson, NZ. In 1926 they returned to Ballarat where the youngest child, Marjorie, was born. With this birth she almost lost her life and I was summoned from Melbourne where I was in the middle of doing my Leaving Examinations and lost out on a couple or more

subjects and this failed to complete the year's work. After six or seven years in Ballarat they moved to Maylands, SA, and after some years there, returned to Auckland, NZ, for a brief time, before they journeyed back again to Adelaide where George served several churches. Although Clara never sought leadership tasks in the churches, she loyally supported George in a wide-ranging ministry for he was a dynamic man, with a strong social conscience. She had none of her husband's "dash" and thrusting enterprise but they combined to make a great team. In all the places they served she was greatly loved for her understanding friendships and beautiful spirit. When they had both grown old, Olive and Clara were reviewing their married lives and Olive knowing how different Clara and George were by nature, and yet so happily matched, said "Well, it's good that you have been able to manage him." Clara replied, "Manage him! I could just as easily manage a volcano! With a large family and such salaries as churches paid then, life was not easy for most of their married lives. But they had much wealth of a durable kind. Clara died in 1974 aged 83.

      VICTOR HENRY, born at Kerang, Vic., in 1893. Married Gertrude Payne in 1924 in North Perth. Children: Beryl, Pauline, Patricia. Vic was much like Clara in nature, generous and kindly, but he could hardly be classed as a dreamer. Early in life, of course he was drafted into the Jones workforce and before he was 14 he was helping to shape the new farm at Brookton and remained there during the time we lived there. Then he undertook farm work in the Brookton district until enlisting in the First World War in 1915 and subsequently served in the Middle East until the war ended in 1918. He was engaged to marry Rene Reed before enlisting and this lasted through the war years but seemed to fall apart after his return. Vic. worked in Brookton farming and wheat lumping for some time and then followed this occupation in the Pithara district, where he met his future wife. Later he selected land for farming about 7 miles north of Mukinbudin. He married in 1924. Vic was a hard worker and got his land cleared for farming--it was good land too--but he had a run of very bad years, for the rainfall was inadequate. It was really strange how farmers not very far away would get rain, but such were the air currents--or some force--that the showers missed him time and again. Due to this strange misfortune his bank loans were mounting year by year until the Bank said they could give no further help as after about 20 years of hard and disappointing work he had to walk off and leave everything. He deserved much better. He went to Wagin and became a School Bus Driver and remained in this job until he retired to live at Gosnells where he transformed a run down place into a very attractive property. He died there aged 74. Gertie lived to over 80 and died in 1974.

      HERBERT STANLEY, born at Kerang, Vic., in 1895. Married Peta McCahon in 1925. Children: Bertie, Lawrence. Bert was smallest in stature in the family. We've always seemed to group Vic and Bert together throughout their whole lives. They were next to each other in family sequence, but they were also workmates and there was a close bond between them. They did so many things together, and even served in the same unit during the War. They finally

selected land for farming within a few miles of each other at Mukinbudin and shared their machinery and equipment in the difficult early years. Bert was a very active fellow and after years of hard toiling established quite a good farm a few miles distant from the town. When his boys were old enough to look after the farm he bought a house in South Perth with a view to retirement but shortly after had a heart attack and died suddenly at the age of 59. His younger son Laurie has continued to farm his property. Peta is living in Perth and is now in her eighties.

      FREDERICK GORDON, born at Kerang, Vic., in 1897. Married Lily Shadbolt in Mukinbudin. Children: Roy, Ivey (dec.), Stanley, Keith, Joy, Gordon, Alan, Robey. Through his physical handicap, a legacy from childhood, Fred has not always found it easy to cope with some difficult situations in life, although he always has been robust and strong. He was much disadvantaged because of lack of continuous schooling in our move to Brookton when he was 10. From then on it was helping in farm work until we returned to the city in 1912 and he had a year or two further schooling. Then he returned to farm work in various localities until he selected a block for development at Miling. He commenced to clear the land and then realised his choice of locality was not suitable so, soon after Vic and Bert selected their land at Mukinbudin, Fred took up a block there and arrived with a tent and axe and a few personal effects and very little cash. He pitched his tent and set himself the formidable task of preparing his land for its first crop. Not having his own team or machinery for the first season or two Fred got the loan of such from Vic and Bert in order to put in his crop and take it off. As he got a bit of money he gradually built up his own requirements but this was slow work (Vic and Bert, as ex-soldiers had post-war Government assistance to start off their farms--but, of course, Fred had nothing). Later on, when about to marry he built the first section of his present house. Lil was a great help, not only house duties but in all matters on the farm when Fred needed assistance. Then Roy, the eldest, readily became a first-rate Dad's "right hand man" even when small and gradually the farm became well established. It's good to see, after all the almost insuperable hardships of the years, how well the family, as a joint effort, have prospered.

      CONSTANCE EDITH, born at Kerang. Married John Tubby in 1924. Children: Reginald, Stanley, Kenneth (Dec.) Connie was the last child born in Kerang ere the family moved to WA and was about 8 when we moved to Brookton. She had a couple of years at school before we left Fremantle but when we returned to the city, she was the one that felt most of the embarrassment of being a big girl among those much younger in her class. Throughout life she always felt she'd been denied her rights, educationally. After leaving school she helped Mum in the house for a time and then went to assist a mother with a young family in Perth. Later she took up a position with some big people in West Perth and continued here till her marriage. Gutha, where John had his farm, was in the developing stage, and life was a bit primitive and rather lonely. Connie felt this particularly at first as she had taste, and liked nice things. However, when her family came she found she had plenty of new interests. She had an unenviable experience when the second child, Stanley, was coming.

      The nearest hospital was 90 miles away at Geraldton, where Reg was born, but for the next she booked in Perth and Mum was going to care for Reg. But Stan was born a week or two before the due date and much to her consternation, Connie was still on the farm, without any medical help. So John had to be impromptu mid-wife. However, there were no complications and later a lady from a farm some distance away lent a hand. Connie missed the life she'd had in a big family and also church fellowship which had been part of her life earlier on, and she didn't find much in a sparsely populated district to satisfy her social instincts. She died in her sixties. Ken, her youngest son died suddenly a couple of years ago--collapsing when he came to lunch, during the shearing season. Reg in 1976, became a Member of Parliament for the area.

      ANNIE LAVINIA, born at Fremantle in 1902. Married Wilkie Thomson at Fremantle Church in 1927. Children: Lola, Chloris. Annie, after leaving school became Mum's offsider in the home. This gave her a chance to cultivate her natural gifts. From an early age, she was innovative and put her mind and hands to all kinds of activities, particularly when Mum wasn't about. Always clever with her hands, she's good at various handicrafts, clever at sewing, painting, cooking etc. If something was to be made, she'd "have a go" at it, and if she didn't at first succeed she'd still chip away at it till she got something near what she wanted. Before she married, she did quite a bit of dress-making at home for folk and earned a few pennies that way. She'd never taken lessons in dress-making. She and Wilk were married in the old Fremantle Church where both had been associated in earlier days. I believe Dad, in replying to the bride's parents toast, was quite witty in passing the remark about the bride, that she was "animated". As Wilkie was minister of Cottesloe church at the time, they continued living there for a time and then went to Bunbury for six years and then to Maylands, WA. Whilst at Maylands Lola was born. Murray Bridge, SA was their next home, then followed Glenelg; Long Plains-Owen, SA; Wagga, NSW; Malvern and Croydon, Vic. After the latter ministry they retired to Blackburn to their own home, but for both of them its been an active retirement.

      KEITH ALLAN, born at Fremantle in 1904. Married Alma Cowper in June 1940 at College of the Bible Chapel. Children: Llynne (dec. at 4 years), Ian, Meredith, Bruce.

      LEWIS, born at Fremantle in 1906. Died when 3 years.

      LAURA HAZEL GWEN, born at Brookton in 1909. Married Donald Manning at Mile End Church in 1939. Children: Patricia, Pamela (twins); Twins (died in infancy); Judith, Jill (twins); Rosemary. Laura seemed to have, from childhood, more spirit than most of the family. She was like quick-silver as a little thing and she led Mum a merry old dance, even though at that time, Mum was no longer a young mother. The way Laura used to skip and dance and jig--instead of walking normally, everywhere she went, Dad and Mum used to comment,

"that girl will be an actress or ballet dancer one day!" That was probably a horrible thought to them! She spent most of her school years at Armadale and then a few years at Cottesloe and finally at Princess May High School at Fremantle--so she had the advantage of "higher education" which didn't come the way of the rest of the family. After school, instead of proceeding further in education she followed in Connie's footsteps and went to help a mother with a young family in Perth.

      In 1928 Dad and Mum decided to make one more move and they felt that they'd like to go back to the scenes of their early life, so to Adelaide they went. So Laura went to Gutha with Connie for a time and then later she and her friend, Doreen Jeffrey, ventured to Taree, NSW where Doreen had a sister, Muriel Stafford. They remained there for a year or so and then returned to WA. Laura also went to help Louie in Strathalbyn, SA for some months when her youngest child was born. About this time Mum was feeling she wanted Laura to come and live with them in Adelaide and this she did until her marriage to Don (The Manning family had returned some time before to SA). After marriage Don and Laura set up home in Narrogin where Don had a job with "Mannings"--a large clothing store which was run by an Uncle and his family. Here all the family was born and a few years later a move was made to Floreat Park, Perth.

      LLOYD GEORGE (Jack), born at Brookton in 1911. Married Dolly Clamp at Mukinbudin in 1934. Child: Robin Jack had the advantage of being the youngest of the Harry and Lena Jones line--he only had one big brother (me) around to clip and clout him when he was naughty and I had to correct my (alleged?) misdemeanours! As Jack grew up he was rather like Vic, but with a bit more aggression. Like Laura he had a full schooling though he didn't go to High School (I think that is right). In 1926 he joined the work force and as he enjoyed farm life he spent several Christmas holidays at Gutha with Connie--and went in the first instance to assist Fred who was just beginning to develop his block at Mukinbudin. Later he worked for Vic and was with him till marriage, then helped Dolly's parents. Enlisted in the 2nd World War and went briefly to Middle East and came back to Australia when pressure came on the homeland. Spent some time at Nungarin Camp and took the opportunity there to gain engineering and oxy welding skills. Those were useful later on the farm which he took over one and a half miles out of Muka. To get capital he went to a small mining area up north and he and Dolly worked very hard there doing all sorts of jobs. Returned to develop his farm and here again they both worked solidly to build up a fine property for 30 years. Sold out in 1972 and bought a small farm at Pinjarra and sold after 3 years. Retired then to Safety Bay in 1977.