I attended school from the age of three until I was about 12. I asked my brother Edmund to take me with him at age 3 which seems so very young now as I look back on it. We of course, would walk to school. My brother would take me by the hand.
My grades at school were always good, and I always passed my yearly exams. Apparently my health was poor, because I remember having to miss some time at school, because of attending a clinic (many years later my brother told me that it was a Tuberculosis clinic). The fact that it was a Tuberculosis clinic must have truly worried my parents, my mother had died when I was very young of tuberculosis, Father and my new mother (Aunt Essie) must have thought they were going to loose me as well.
I was always scared on the days I attended the clinic. I would naturally be late for school, the other children would whisper "you're going to get it" (back in those days it would not have been unusual to really 'get it' as corporal punishment was handed out as the teacher deemed needed. I was very embarrassed attending school, because I had to wear heavy red flannel under my chin and around the top of my head. I had an operation when I was 8 years old, to have a gland removed from under my chin. This left me with a bright red scar as long as a middle finger and just as wide. I had this disfigurement for 2 years. My parents visited me while I was in hospital, and brought me greengages and sweets.
I guess my little sister thought I was getting treated very well (getting those sweets and greengages ) because she said "I go into hospital, and I'll get sweets too" .
Mother and Father said that they would have to watch her closely, in case she might run into traffic and get run down (to get into hospital).
The gland in my neck grew again, and I had a second operation when I was 10 years old. The new doctor, Dr. Fulton, removed the gland and also the awful scar. I never looked back from that day.
When I was 9 years old I loved to attend religious meetings, especially the ones for children. The preacher would get up and call for a show of hands of those who wanted to be "saved". Those who raised their hands were asked to meet in the Vestry after the meeting. I was very enthusiastic and was "saved" many times. Then I thought it was time that my little sister of 3 years old was "saved". I took her to one of the meetings, and told her to raise her hand up. After the meeting we went into the vestry to meet with the Pastor. While we were praying, Amy called out in a loud voice, "I WANT TO GO TO THE TOILET". I was too embarrassed at having to leave the meeting and bring her home. I thought I would never go to another meeting... but of course I did! (They say that what goes around comes around. I had embarrassed my brother when he took me on my first day of school at age 3 and so now I was in the position of being embarrassed by my little 3 year old sister. )
Teacher’s I remember in school were Miss Cooksey (2nd class). She was very beautiful, wore lovely clothes and had a sweet disposition. Miss Curry (3rd class) was quick tempered, and we were a little afraid of her. She would slap the cane on your desk when asking a question – which put the answer right out of my head. My friend Myra and I used to walk home with her. Along the way she would point to a poster and teach us to pronounce difficult words, for this I am very grateful today. Miss Gardner (4th class) took us for singing as well as our other subjects. I loved this time as singing came easy to me. Miss Gardner used the cane quite a lot. The boys used to pull their hand away just as she was about to slap them, and the full force of the cane came down on her skirt. Women wore skirts to the ground in those days (around 1924). Mr W.W. Whiteside was our head master. We used to call him weary Willie Whiteside. He and Miss Gardner would send notes to each other. I never heard if they got married.
My best subjects in school were singing, geography and reading. During the Great War 1914 - 1918 I was attending school. One day there was a terrible darkness about 1 pm. The children were frightened, and the teachers tried to cheer us up by telling us that the KAISER (King of Germany) was dead. Of course we were so excited and gave up a big shout HOORAY. We thought that it meant that the war was over. The news wasn't true, and the war went on .
Me and my brother used to play a game at this time. "THE GERMANS ARE COMING. THEY ARE UPON US" We would sing this song...
HARK, HARK, HARK, THE BOYS ARE MARCHING. THREE BIG GERMANS AT THE DOOR. IF YOU DON'T LET ME IN, I'LL GIVE YOU A PUNCH IN THE CHIN. AND YOU'LL NEVER SEE YOU'RE MAMMY ANY MORE.
My brother Edmund would stand on a chair behind the door, holding a bat, I was to knock on the door (pretending to be a German.) when I would walk in, Edmund was standing ready to club me.
