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I was born in 1883 in Hartley Vale, N.S.W. , the second youngest of a family of eight. Our father was killed taking food to Little Hartley in 1886 to help the miners there after the mine had closed down. We have a letter from Lord Carrington expressing sorrow over the sad accident.
My mother was left with an insurance of only £200. - all she had to raise her family.
My first memory was of a small pub in Hobby's Yards, where we lively happily. One of my sisters played the piano and a brother the violin. There was always music and singing and open house for the neighbours. We were a musical family.
When we bathed in the river old Tom, the rouseabout, was always around to count heads.
Our next move was to Dubbo, for education I suppose, as we had to go to boarding school from Hobby's Yards, and there was not sufficient money for that. With the exception of my two brothers we all attended the Convent school. I do not remember much about it except a beating I got from my brother for refusing to take my lunch to school in a serviette, whilst the other youngers were taking theirs in paper. I threw the lunch at my brother and rushed off to school. There was a terrible fuss when my mother returned from her pub minding, and I was still well marked on my bottom.
Another thing I remember - someone told me a man was kicking the bucket. I was curious as to why and although I peeped through the window I could not see a bucket. I told mother and she said not to talk about it. It was years later I under stood what it was all about.
We then moved to Mendoran. - Five adults and three children with the driver in a large dray piled high with luggage. We lost my brother Fred on the way - he had slipped unnoticed off the luggage. The driver had to go back and we found him, very disturbed, walking towards us. I think the inhabitants of the town thought a circus had arrived. . As I remember we were happy there until an outbreak of dyptheria. There were no doctors nearby and as we children were curious enough to visit the contacts, my mother packed us all in a room and fumigated us with burning sulphur. We coughed so much that Fred, our youngest brother, almost choked and in his alarm broke a window. Mother, seeing the bloody hand was terrified, she stopped the fumigation but we were made to remain in the room.