:(7,1-,„ • ir STATE Government I. LIBRARY of South Australia
STATE LIBRARY OF SOUTH AUSTRALIA J. D. SOMERVILLE ORAL HISTORY COLLECTION
OH 1/26
Full transcript of an interview with
D. MAY SMITH
on 27 February 1986
by Beth Robertson for 'SA SPEAKS': AN ORAL HISTORY OF LIFE IN SOUTH AUSTRALIA BEFORE 1930
Recording available on cassette
Access for research: Unrestricted
Right to photocopy: Copies may be made for research and study
Right to quote or publish: Publication only with written permission from the State Library ATB/13/129-604i Mrs D. May SMITH ii 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Page
Preface iii
Notes to the Transcript iv
Family and Background 1 Scottish father's bullock driving His first marriage Visiting mother's family in Victoria Granny Cameron, Kingston midwife
Childhood 13 Several Kingston homes Taking boarders Backyard produce Class division in Kingston
Schooling 25 Kingston School Leaving school aged twelve
Helping mother run a boarding house for drain labourers ten miles from Robe 28
Domestic Service 38 Return to Kingston Working for the Postmaster and the Crown and Kingston Arms hotels The Bayview Coffee Palace, Robe The New Market and Terminus Hotels, Adelaide
Marriage and Return to Kingston 47 Life on the Murrabinna Station Childbirth and babies
Collateral Material in File 8604 includes: -Ftivo Photographs P8604A,B and photocopies of scvcral newspaper articles and cxccrpts of publications featuring the Cameron family.
Cover Illustration Malcolm Cameron's bullock team in 1903 and May Cameron, inset, aged sixteen in 1916. ATB/13/129-604i Mrs D. May SMITH ii 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Page
Preface 111
Notes to the Transcript iv
Family and Background 1 Scottish father's bullock driving His first marriage Visiting mother's family in Victoria Granny Cameron, Kingston midwife
Childhood 13 Several Kingston homes Taking boarders Backy441 produce Class division in Kingston
Schooling 25 Kingston School Leaving school aged twelve
Helping mother run a boarding house for drain labourers ten miles from Robe 28
Domestic Service 38 Return to Kingston Working for the Postmaster and the Crown and Kingston Arms hotels The Bayview Coffee Palace, Robe The New Market and Terminus Hotels, Adelaide
Marriage and Return to Kingston 47 Life on the Murrabinna Station Childbirth and babies
Collateral Material in File 8604 includes: Photographs P8604A,B and photocopies of several newspaper articles and excerpts of publications featuring the Cameron family.
Cover Illustration Malcolm Cameron's bullock team in 1903 and May Cameron, inset, aged sixteen in 1916. ATB/13/129-604i Mrs D. May SMITH iii 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
PREFACE
Dorothy May Smith (nee Cameron) was born in 1900 and brought up in and around Kingston SE, where her father, who worked a team of fourteen bullocks all over the South East, made his home base. The family sometimes left the town to be near him on long-term jobs, and May describes in detail how she left school age twelve to help her mother run a boarding house (for meals, not accommodation) for two years ten miles from Robe for the Drain L labourers while her father carted machinery for the works. On her return to Kingston, May began about five years as a housemaid and waitress, first in the Crown and Kingston Arms hotels in Kingston, then in the Bayview Coffee Palace in Robe and finally at the New Market and Terminus hotels in Adelaide. When her boyfriend, a Victorian labourer she had met at the boarding house, returned from the war, they decided to marry and she returned to Kingston to live. During the 1920s Mrs Smith had five of her nine children and for two and a half years in the mid 1920s she and her husband, working as a farm labourer, lived in isolation on out-paddocks of the Murrabinna Station.
Mrs Smith was 85 years of age at the time of the interview.
The sound levels of the tape recordings are good, overcoming a good deal of extraneous noise including voices in the building and traffic outside.
'S.A. Speaks: An Oral History of Life in South Australia before 1930' was a Jubilee 150 project conducted under the auspices of the History Trust of South Australia for two years and two months ending December 1986. The Interviewees are broadly representative of the population of South Australia as it was in the first three decades of the twentieth century. Selection of Interviewees was guided by a Sex and Occupation Sample calculated from the 1921 Census and Inter- viewees were suggested, in the main, by people who responded to 'S.A. Speaks' publicity. Each interview was preceded by an unrecorded preliminary interview during which details about the Interviewee's family history and life story were sought to help develop a framework for the interview.
As stated in the Conditions of Use for Tape Recordings and Transcripts adopted for the 'S.A. Speaks' project: 'The copyright in the item(s) [viz, the tapes and transcripts of Interview 8604] and all the rights which normally accompany copyright including the right to grant or withhold access to them, conditionally or unconditionally, to publish, reproduce or broadcast them, belongs in the first instance to the History Trust of South Australia for the purposes of the 'S.A. Speaks' project and after the cessation of that project to the Libraries Board of South Australia for the purposes of the Mortlock Library of South Australiana.' ATB/13/129-604i Mrs D. May SMITH iv 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
NOTES TO THE TRANSCRIPT
Readers of this oral history transcript should bear in mind that it is a record of the spoken word. It was the policy of the Transcriptionist, Chris Gradolf, and the Interviewer, as editor, to produce a transcript that is, so far as possible, a verbatim transcript that preserves the Interviewee's manner of speaking and the informal, conversational style of the interview. Certain conventions of trans- cription have been applied (i.e. the omission of meaningless noises, redundant false starts and a percentage of the Interviewee's crutch words). Also, each Interviewee was given the opportunity to read the transcript of their interview after it had been proofread by the Interviewer. The Interviewee's suggested alterations have been incorporated in the text (see below). On the whole, however, the document can be regarded as a raw transcript.
Researchers using the original tape recording of this interview are cautioned to check this transcript for corrections, additions or deletions which have been made by the Interviewer or the Interviewee but which will not occur on the tapes. Minor discrepancies of grammar and sentence structure made in the interest of readability can be ignored but significant changes such as deletions of information or correction of fact should be, respectively, duplicated or acknowledged when the tape recorded version of this interview is used for broadcast or publication on cassettes.
Abbreviations
The Interviewee, D. May Smith, is referred to by the initials MS in all editorial insertions in the transcript.
Punctuation
Square brackets [I indicate material in the transcript that does not occur on the original tape recording.
The Interviewee's initials after a word, phrase or sentence in square brackets, i.e. [word or phrase MS] indicates that the Interviewee made this par- ticular insertion or correction. All uninitialled parentheses were made by the Interviewer.
An series of dots, indicates an untranscribable word or phrase.
Sentences that were left unfinished in the normal manner of conversation are shown ending in three dashes, - -
Spelling
Wherever possible the spelling of proper names and unusual ter ms has been verified. Where uncertainty remains the word has been marked with a cross in the right hand margin of the Interview Log and Data Sheet which can be consulted in the Interview File.
Typeface
The Interviewer's questions are shown in bold print. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 1. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
'S.A. Speaks: An Oral History of Life in South Australia Before 1930' Beth Robertson interviewing Mrs D. May Smith 111.1.1.111111.1 allinalliffinniffilWININIM on 27 February 1986 TAPE 1 SIDE A
If you could just start by telling me your full name?
Dorothy May - Cameron it was.
And now?
Smith.
Were you known as Dorothy?
No, always as May. It's only the pension authorities and, like the birth cer- tificate, see, that you have to use your first name.
Do you know why you were called May, rather than Dorothy?
After an Auntie. I don't know where the Dorothy came from.
What was the date of your birth?
On the seventh of March nineteen hundred, I was born.
Then it's easy to keep track of your age.
Yes, with the years.
Where were your born?
At N hill, Victoria.
Why were you born over there?
Well my mother went over to her people for a holiday at the same time, see, for a few weeks before I was born. Her parents lived there.
Did she have others of her children with her parents?
Then? Oh, my older brother was a year and eleven months older than me.
Do you know if others of your brothers and sisters were born in Victoria?
Well, I couldn't tell you about the first family, where all them were born, because, see, they were older than me. The older brother was born at Kingston and then I was born at Nhill and my other brother, who died in New Zealand - he was born at Kingston, and the baby brother that died at eight months, he was born at Kingston too.
So your mother didn't usually go to her mother? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 2. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
No, no, it was just a holiday, see, at the same time.
What was your father's name?
Name? Malcolm. Just Malcolm Cameron.
I'd like to ask you a bit about him. What can you tell me about his background?
In the early days you mean?
Yes.
Well, of course, I can remember him - you know, from about, I suppose about five or six. And he was driving bullocks, of course, from a young lad about thirteen or fourteen. When his father died he took on the work and - - A very quiet man, you know, and he loved the family and that - home life. But his work took him away from home quite a lot. That was out in the country and different places where he had to cart wool and such things as that, you know, and machinery and different things in latter years. But he spent most of his time, in my life, round Kingston and Naracoorte and Robe - you know, around the South East like. But in the days before, of course, I was born or anything, he spent in Victoria and Northern Territory and Queensland. He'd been in practically all the States.
Did he tell you about those days?
Oh yes, he used to tell us about them. And the Scotch people are very super- stitious. You know, he used to tell us about different things - things that happened and that, back in the early days. But he often said he wished he'd have kept a diary, as he told the chap that put his life story in that little local paper [see photocopy of 'Memoirs of Lacepede Octogenarians' on file] - Clem Smith. But he couldn't write. He could only sign his name because he only had eighteen months schooling.
See in those days there was very few white people around Kingston. They were mostly natives. We didn't call them blacks - called them natives - and they went to school. Well, it wasn't a school. It was a little shed. They used it in later years as the lifesaving - keeping lifesaving equipment. But he had a wonderful memory, you know, and he used to tell us about different things. But, of course, I forget a lot of the things that he did tell us because there's so many.
Can you remember one of these stories about superstitions?
Oh - very superstitious. He said in one part of the North where they were, there was lights, you know, coming - like they say now about UF - - ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 3. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
UFOs?
Yes. Well, he believed in those. He reckoned that they'd seen lights and things, but whether they did or whether it was only superstition, or that, we don't know. And he said that it'd appear and then go away, you know, and you wouldn't see it - perhaps not see it for months after. But, I don't know whether they really did or whether it was only superstition. But of course they never worked at night with the bullocks - they only worked in the day - because it's very hot weather. The bullocks have a bow round their neck, and it's very, very hot - you know, it's iron - and a yoke, and two bows in the yoke. And they'd put a key through, and they'd yoke two together. It was fourteen in this team.
Why wouldn't they work them at night?
Oh well, see, they were tired. Fourteen would pull a heavy load. Where, horses, see, they could work at night, but the bullocks you couldn't work at night. And of course, by the time you worked them six or eight hours a day, they were tired. And he used to ride his horse and drive them, and he'd call them by their name - each bullock had a name, and they knew their names.
Can you remember the sorts of names he called them?
Yes. Mag and Traveller was his leaders - I can remember them.
Mag and Traveller?
Yes. And one was a black and - oh, more of a blue and white - and the other one was a red and white Hereford. Very quiet they were. And, oh, Roan, and different names, you know. They used to call them Roan and - - I can remember the polers - see the polers held the pole of the wagon up - and if they didn't move - - If the leaders didn't move, see, they couldn't pull the load. So you'd call them by their -names and that, and do a little bit of swear- ing at times, I believe. (laughs) They tell me that, but I never heard him swear. But, they say they do. But he never used the whip - he never was cruel to his team. He didn't believe in it. He'd crack the whip, you know, and speak to them like, to move. And they would move - heave one way and the other to get out of a bog or with a heavy load and that, you know. But he was very fond of his animals, and he looked after them. If he was in a place where he couldn't get overnight paddocking for them, you know, he would sit up and keep them on the side of the road all night, and watch them. He was a very hardy man, right till he died. I don't know whether you've ever seen a wagon, have you? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 4. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Only in photographs.
Oh. Well there's a pole, and they put a pole up. And he'd throw a tarpaulin over that and put his feather mattress down on a ground sheet, and lay there and watch them. Not always, but that was where he'd sleep. He'd never sleep in the wagon. That would have the load on. And he always smoked a pipe, right till he died. Of course he had to reduce the quantity because he was rather a heavy smoker, and the doctor said it wasn't good for him. But he lived to eighty three. And the doctor said that he had to, like, leave off a little - it was too much - because he had the angina heart. In fact all the family seem to have that trouble. It doesn't trouble me much, but I've always got the tablets handy.
You were saying the bullocks were fairly gentle, were they?
Yes, they never - - -. You see, they had horns, some of them had horns and that, but they would never rush anyone, you know. They were used to being yoked up and treated all right, and therefore they wouldn't attempt to hurt you. But strangers, that they didn't know, well, then they might. But of course he wouldn't let anyone else handle them - only he or the man he had helping him at times.
Did he have one man in particular who helped?
Oh, he had several different ones, but that one that was taken with him in the photo was a man named Bill Vearing - it's on the back of the photo. But I can remember different ones, you know - Gavin Munn. And the man that was with him the day he died was Mr Jim Carson, from Mundulla - that's near Border- town. But as a rule, he didn't always have a man with him, see, because when they were loading machinery or anything like that he'd have help to load, see - and his job was to drive the bullocks. He was only too proud to do that, and that was his masterpiece. (laughs) But he was very well known and well liked.
As you were growing up, would he be away from home for long periods of time?
Yes, quite a lot. We travelled once - I can remember this. We travelled once from Kingston to a place called Boo! Lagoon - it's out of Naracoorte - and it was a very wet winter when we had to come back. We lived in the shearers' hut at the big Killanolla Station - Seymours. Some people the name of Thomas Seymour owned it.
And my stepbrother, Alick that one with his photo in that pink paper [see photocopy, 'The Last of the Bullockies' by Verne McLaren, on file], he was working there. And so they wanted some ploughing done and my father went ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 5. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
up there to do the ploughing, see, in the good weather - before the wet weather set in - and we were there for about five months, or six months, as well as I can remember. But I can remember, when we were coming back to Kingston, the creeks and drains were all flooded and water was coming half way up to the bottom of the wagon. My mother got excited and she - you know, she thought we'd be drowned or something. (laughs) And of course Dad had to calm her down and tell her it was all right. But I can remember, it was frightening. You know, we were only young - I wasn't old enough to go to school then. But we got through all right. Then came back to Kingston.
Of course that was our home town, see, but he only went away then. And then, latter years, he went up to Naracoorte, working on a sawmill, and my mother went with him. I was married then and had one child and I was living in our house while they were away, you know. They were away for a couple of years. But she liked to go with him when she could. You know, because it's not much for a man working all day and then coming home, cooking.
When he went working, say at the sawmill or at Killanollo, would he be using his bullocks or - - -?
Oh yes, yes. See, to plough. A plough is something that they hook on, and they plough up the ground, ready, before they sews the seed - the crop and that, and put it in. Yes, he worked there for - - -. It was a very wet winter, and that was nineteen hundred and - - I don't know whether it was nineteen six or nineteen hundred and eight - I just forget now. One of those years was a very, very wet year. And I remember him saying - his mother was very ill in Kingston - and they sent word to the station. There was no phones like there is nowadays - and they sent word to the station and he rode the horse down to see her. And he said that he had to cross through creeks where the water was flapping the side of the saddle, to go through - it was such a wet winter.
Would the flooding during the winter, mean that he couldn't use his bullocks all year round?
No, he couldn't then. Well, then, see the - a lot of that property was owned by big landowners, if you can understand. Well then, they thought that there was such a lot of valuable land flooded with too much water in the South East, that they would set up the South East Drainage Scheme, which they did, and they drained all that land, see. Well, he carted the machinery - a lot of it. Some of the horse teams did as well, but he carted a lot of it. And I believe there was a photo down in the Robe hotel. Someone was telling me they'd seen it. A photo of him with a piece of machinery on the bullock team. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 6. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Before he worked on the drainage system - -
Well, that was about nineteen hundred and twelve when that started.
Do you know what sort of work he did before that, when it was too wet to use the bullocks?
Oh well, carting wool, and carting wattle bark. There used to be a lot of wattle bark grown in those days - they don't do it now down there, see. They used to dye the wattle bark and make leather out of it.
Do you remember if there were times when he couldn't use the bullocks because of the water?
Oh yes. Oh yes, quite a lot of times, especially in the summer time and the weather was hot and there was no work for them. He'd just let them go up on what they call the Hummocks. It was land - the sea front, it you can under- stand - between the road and the sea, and it was just Crown land, see. And you were allowed to let them run there. Oh, it was miles and miles - it was right to the Coorong. You've heard of the Coorong, haven't you?
Yes.
And down towards Meningie.
How did your father manage when he couldn't use the bullocks? Did he do other sort of work?
No. No, never done anything else - only his bullock team. Very hardy. You know, thick Scotch eyebrows - I've got them myself - and that, but very hardy. Never complained about anything. Had wonderful health considering - just these heart turns latter years of his life.
Was he ever injured at his work?
Not that I can ever remember. He might have been before I can remember, you know, in his younger days, when he was away working in other states and married with the first family, but I can't remember.
Yes, can you tell me about that? He was married twice was he?
Yes. I told you he was married and had four children the first family, didn't I?
Oh yes.
Two girls and two boys. See, I'm the only one left of the lot now.
Were your half brothers and sisters living with you when you grew up?
Oh well, see, when I was born, some of them were - - -. Two lived with the grandmother at Kingston - Blanche and Ronald. Well, Ronald went to New ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 7. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Zealand - I think I told you the other day. Well he never came back. Blanche got married and she lived in Kingston. She lived there right till she died but of course her husband died years ago. And Elizabeth, the eldest one, worked for several farmers round there. You know, there was not work much in those days - different to now. Then she went away - worked at the hotels, mostly, as a waitress, a housemaid - then she went away to different places in Adelaide, and country towns and that. She got married. She lived at Lee Terrace, Rosewater before she died. And the other one died at Kingston. And the youngest brother - that Alick, the photo there, taken, where he rode the trail years ago [the commemorative ride along the bullock trail linking the Lacepede District with the Tatiara District made in 1974 - see 'The Last of the Bullockiesq - oh back, must be nearly twenty years since they rode that trail. He did that and then had a heart attack after it. But I never went back to that. I went back to the Kingston centenary, when they had that, but I never went back to [the trail ride MS].
Did your father's first wife die?
Well, I can't tell you much about it. I know they had her photo - like, in my mother's home. Her photo was there until the youngest girl got married, and then - - -. She got married before the eldest, see, so she took the photo of her - their mother - and I can remember they used to wear them high neck dresses, you know, and tight fitting bodices here. And she was very - rather nice looking woman. A nice figure, by the photo - it was only to the waist, you know - and that. But I can't remember - only seeing the photo, see, because it was years before I was born. I told you her name was Jane Laurie.
That's right. And what was your mother's name?
Isabella Gangell.
What do you know of her background?
Well, her people were farmers - wheat farmers in the Wim mera District of Victoria, see - until they retired. Like, the grandfather got too old, and they retired at a place called Ararat.
Did you know her parents?
We went there for several holidays. We didn't care for Grandfather - he was too strict.
What was he like? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 8. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Well, he was a Rechabite. Not that that's any disgrace. It's something to be proud of, I suppose, as far as that. He lived to ninety six. But he didn't believe in children playing. He'd make them do something - pick up a chip out the yard or something. (laughs)
Were you allowed to talk in his presence?
Oh no. No - you were seen but not heard. (laughs) Grandma was lovely. He was very strict, very strict. He was with his own family.
Did your mother hold with his ideas?
Oh not always. Grandma didn't either, but, you know, you don't express them all the time. Because I remember when we went over - it was ten years from the time we seen them till we went over again - - -. Well, I was ten year old. That's when I remember he wouldn't let us play much. And I remember, I hated the thoughts of leaving. I didn't want to ever go again because they all cried when we left, you know - like, Grandpa, Grandma and Mum and that - and, you know, us kiddies started to cry, my brother that was alive - the little one passed away before that. And I thought, oh, that was terrible, to see them all crying.
How did you travel there?
Oh, we went by train those days. There was trains then - three times a week. That was about - I was ten years old, as I say. I was ten when Halley's Comet was around last.
Being a Rechabite, he would have been a teetotaller would he?
Oh yes - oh yes, all his life.
What about your family? Did your father drink?
Well no. My father would go in and have a drink, but he wasn't a - you know what I mean - like that. He'd go in, if he met a man. Like, any old friend and them, that'd say, 'Come and have a drink Malcolm' - he wasn't home that much. And he'd say, 'Yes,' and they'd go and perhaps have a drink - and it'd be whisky and OT. Do you know what OT is?
No.
Well, it's like a cordial - very hot. And of course whisky's a real Scotch man's drink. But very seldom. And he loved riding his horse. He said, apart from your wife - the dog and the horse was your best friend, which I think is true, with a man that lives with a dog and a horse, you know. Because if you're kind to them, they'll be kind to you. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 9. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Did you see other people's bullock teams that weren't treated well?
Well, I only remember one. This Gavin Munn, he had a team, but he wasn't so kind. But Dad used to - my dad used to get cross with him, you know, tell him off. (laughs) Turn about and say, you know, it's not the right thing - he'd hit them with the whip and that. Dad always used to think that a kind word to them was better than thrashing - - -. Well, not thrashing them, but using the whip on them. Well, I think it's the same with horses. Kindness goes a long way, doesn't it?
Yes. What sort of a dog did he keep?
Oh, just cattle dog. He had several and I can remember one he had they called a Queensland heeler - it was a blue and black heeler. But the one he had when he died was - [I took it home and then MS] my elder son Ross, who lives in Melbourne had it for years after him. We had it in Naracoorte. Peter was its name - cattle dog mostly. And the old mare that he had, I can remember for years, was Floss. He thought the world of his mare. And the night before he died he put his bullocks away in the paddock and came home and had his tea and this Mr Carson who'd been helping all day - he was staying there with Mum and Dad - [found him dead and sent for the doctor MS]. You've seen a saddle haven't you?
Yes.
And you know, the centre of the saddle that you put the saddle cloth under - and the dog always used to sleep in there, in the saddle. I can remember that as plain as plain.- Oh, of course I was married then and had a family when he died - and one of my girls was only seven weeks old. I can remember that as plain as anything. The dog was laying there and couldn't seem to understand why poor old Dad wasn't about.
Had he been working the bullocks the day before he died?
Yes, that day. And played a game of, oh, euchre, you know, with my eldest daughter and a friend of hers that was down on school holidays in May, and then went to bed and he got up through the night to take his tablet and he looked out - it was in May, you see, and a very foggy kind of a morning - and he said to my mother - remarked about it - and got back into bed. He wasn't back in bed long before he threw his arm across Mum and he was gone. Of course, that's heart.
Yes.
It's often the case with people with heart trouble. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 10. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Were you telling me last week that your mother did some nursing?
Yes she did, with Dr Stegmann. He's in Mount Gambier as far as I know, if he hasn't passed on. He was the first doctor they'd had at Kingston for many, many years - they were without a doctor. Now they've got a lovely hospital and two doctors there.
Do you think she'd done nursing all through her life?
Oh, no, she was only - - -. No, no, she was only self-taught, you know - like, midwife. My grandmother was a midwife in the early days there. In fact she was the only one in Kingston, old Mrs Cameron - Granny Cameron.
So did your mother not start doing nursing until she was getting on?
Oh, I suppose Mum was - oh, just before I got married I suppose. I suppose it'd be in about 1918 or something - 1920 - when she first started. Like, once she'd go with my grandmother, see, and help them.
I'd like to ask you about your grandmother. Now this is your father's mother?
Yes.
What was her name?
Anne Cameron.
You were saying she was usually known as Granny Cameron.
Granny Cameron, yes.
What sort of a woman was she?
Little, short - very Scotch. You know, 'wee bairn' she'd say for a little wee child - a small child. Very Scotch. Everybody liked her. Used to wear little white curls down round here and a black velvet band up round to keep them tidy. And when she went out she wore a little black hat with feathers round - all round the band, like a little mop cap. You know what I mean?
Yes.
You can imagine. And, of course long dresses were worn. Poor old Granny, she was well known and well liked. She never lost a case in her nursing days - not one case. You know, it's a big thing, because people didn't have the care and attention those days they get now.
Did you know about the sort of work she did when you were a child?
Oh yes, yes. I can remember as well as can be, you know - as if it was yester- day - seeing her and that. And when my daughter was sixty year old - the one ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 11. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
that has got the photo, Mrs Abbott, she'll be sixty on the thirtieth of July [this year MS] - she died the week she was born, the old lady, and she was ninety six. But we weren't living - - -. Yes, we were in Kingston then, but she was living with her daughter just out of Kingston - about three miles out of Kingston - and she died, you know, peacefully, and old age. But, she was a wonderful old lady.
Did you ever go with her on her nursing jobs?
No. No, never. She had one granddaughter - her mother had a kind of a nervous breakdown after this granddaughter was born. Like, she was very sick and that. She had a good husband living and they had a farm and everything. And Granny kind of mothered her, you know, this Grace - she's still alive, this girl - and she lived with her for years and years. And when she died she got her amber brooch. Have you ever seen amber?
Yes.
It's brown - it's very pretty. And she had an amber bar, gold tipped each end, and in the centre, and Grace Huckel - she lives at Mount Burr, her and her husband - and she got that. But she lived for years [with Granny Cameron MS]. And another one, Mary Gibbs, a Mrs MacFadyen - she married after - she lived with Granny for years also. She was never without one of the grand- daughters living with her, in latter years, you know. She had her home and that, but then when her younger son got married and his wife come to live there, well, she went from one to the other - you know what I mean?
Yes.
But she was very well liked.
END OF TAPE 1 SIDE A: TAPE 1 SIDE B
Did you ever know Granny Cameron's husband - your grandfather?
Never ever - - -. He was dead before ever I was born. I think he was dead before my brother was born. My father's brother Stewart that lived in Murray Bridge for years and years after, was the first white baby born in Kingston - Uncle Stewart. And of course Grandfather Cameron - my grandfather - was alive then of course, but I never remember him.
Had he been born in Scotland?
He had, yes. Didn't you see that in the little book, where he was born in Scotland and he was captain of a boat there, in Scotland, on the River Clyde?
Did your Granny ever tell you about coming out from Scotland? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 12. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Oh well, she did, but more my father used to tell us about that, because she had so many families. Like there was two daughters married at Kingston and Uncle Stewart was at Murray Bridge, Uncle Archie was at Milang, and then of course my father was at Kingston. And then Uncle Robert was at Gawler. That was Clyde Cameron - he was a member of Parliament for Hindmarsh for years - his father. And then Johnny, the other brother, lived in Kingston. So she lived amongst them all, if you can understand. She'd go from one to the other, you know. [There was also another son, Uncle Jim. MS]
Did she stay with you when you were a child?
Oh no. No, the older ones - more the older ones than me. See, I was only one of the younger ones when she was alive. I was married and had two children - with the third one - when she died. But, no, we were out on a property out from Reedy Creek when she died - working out there. Because work was very scarce in Kingston those days. You just done any labouring work you could get and that. It's different altogether now to what it used to be. Roadworks and things now, and you know how they've improved and built places and things.
Do you think your grandmother had an influence on you when you were a girl?
Oh, I don't think so. She wasn't with us that much. More with her grand- daughters of her daughters. You know, like Auntie Kate and Auntie 'Vin. It's not that there was any ill feeling or anything, but it was just that she spent more time with them. Oh, she'd come and see them all, and that, you know. Wander round and have a cup of tea.
Did you visit your uncles who were living outside in other towns?
We were all friendly, you know, and that, but we never done much visiting those days. You'd see them and that. And when there was a death or anything, or anyone was sick, you'd always visit them then, but I don't know, you didn't visit. They didn't seem to visit so much those days. You keep to your own family. We didn't have wireless or anything - television - those times, and you kept to your own family. But people in the country are very friendly and if there's any sickness or death or anything like that, it's marvellous how they rally round one another.
You've mentioned that families did get together on occasions of death.
Oh yes.
Do you remember a death in the family as you were growing up? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 13. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
I can remember - - -. My little brother didn't die in Kingston, he died in Naracoorte, see. Mum took him up to Naracoorte by train and he died - took him on the Friday and he died the Saturday night, six o'clock. And that was the first death that I can remember in the family.
What was the matter with him?
Chronic diarrhoea and convulsions. See, they didn't know as much about those sort of things as they do now.
How old was he at the time?
Eight months. As I said, no doctor or hospital there then.
How did she get him to Naracoorte?
By train. There's only three trains a week and if you missed the one Monday, you'd have to wait to Wednesday. Missed the one Wednesday, wait till Friday. That was the bad days really. Narrow gauge, you know, and it was fifty four miles, but it took about three hours to get there - steam trains.
Did you have a funeral for your little brother?
Yes. Oh, they just had a private funeral. He was buried in the Naracoorte cemetery. But my grandfather and grandmother are buried in Kingston, and my father's buried in Kingston. My mother's not, she's buried in Cheltenham because she died down here and I couldn't afford to pay the expense to take her back to Kingston. It's very expensive, and those things, and so she's buried over in Cheltenham, because she died there 1946.
I'd like to ask you about where you were living when you were a child. Where did you live in Kingston?
In Kingston? Well, the house that we lived in would be - - -. You wouldn't find them now, they'd be all pulled down. In what they used to call Rosetown, and it was nearer the beach than Roberts Hill that's spoken of in that picture - book, rather, or paper. And lived in several houses there. I can remember one Mr Barnett owned, another one that a Mr Neil Cameron owned - no relation at all. And then we lived in another one, latter years - before my father and mother bought a home - down in front of the railway station, what was known, many years ago, as the Old Railway Boarding House. I don't know why they called it that. Must've been when they were building the railway because there wasn't any railwaymen employed - only what went on the trains, you know.
So you lived in a number of different houses did you? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 14. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Oh yes, but the one that my mother and father bought in latter years of life, my cousin and her husband - my cousin and his wife, rather - bought that. Well, they bought the house from my mother, and do you know, that house is still standing there. It's a weatherboard house, just near the big wide bridge as you come into Kingston from Adelaide.
Was this after you'd left home?
Oh yes, yes. We were living in Naracoorte when this happened.
Did your parents rent or own houses when you were growing up?
Oh, mostly rented those days, yes. People didn't own. It was only, you know, people that had land or far ms that owned their own homes those days. Little farms - they weren't big farms. Some were big stations of course - they were well out of the town.
Do you know why your parents moved from one house to another?
[queries question]
Do you know why your parents moved?
Well, I don't know, just sometimes its more conveniency and sometimes more rooms, and sometimes the rents were different and that. Of course rents were different those days. It was a matter of shillings, not pounds or dollars. But you couldn't earn money. You see, money was so [scarce MS] in those days - wages and things were so poor and a loaf of bread was only thre'pence a loaf - thre'pence ha'penny delivered.
Is there one house in particular that you remember, perhaps when you were going to school?
Yes, the one in front of the railway station mostly.
You said it was called the Railway Boarding House. Was it more than one storey?
Oh no, no. I haven't got a photo of it at all. I did have a photo once. I don't know what became of it. It was taken - my mother and father and a man that was down there boarding at the time - he was working at the bark mill and he was engineer, like. He used to drive the engine then, and he was boarding at my mother's. And we were taken out on the verandah and my brother and I were young. Not the brother that was killed at the war - he was in the Navy then - and the young brother was dead, of course. There was only my mother and father and Mr Blackham - this engineer - and my brother, younger brother than myself, and myself, there. But, I don't know, you lose photos and that and you can't recollect where they get to sometimes. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 15. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Yes, that sounds like a very interesting one.
Yes it was.
What was the house like?
Well it was weatherboard and there was a verandah out the front of it, you know, just a verandah, and those days they weren't boarded or covered in like or trelliced or anything like they are nowadays - very plain. And just three bedrooms - four bedrooms there were - and kitchen, and like a front room, we used to call it - they didn't call them lounges those days. And backyard and - - -. My mother always kept one or two cows - when she was living in Kingston, always kept cows. Made her own butter and had our own milk.
Did she usually take in a boarder?
Oh, only on an occasion like that if they couldn't get board. Once we had - the Engineer-in-Chief of the drainage works - his chauffeur, that used to drive Mr Burchell around everywhere. Dan O'Leary was his name. He was an Adelaide young lad and Mr Burchell asked my father would Mum take him, you know, as a boarder, because we was close to - about half a mile from where he worked. He was a city lad and he didn't like, you know, going to a hotel, so he was there boarding with us for about twelve or eighteen months. I can remember that quite well.
How did you like having different people living in the home?
Oh, well, they were all right. Like, I wasn't very old and we used to have to wait on the table and that - you know [, help at anything in the home MS]. But they were really treated like one of the family. This Mr Blackham he used to belong to Semaphore. Poor old fellow. He was a nice old chap. He died many years ago.
He was Mr Blackham?
Yes. Used to always send Mum and Dad a Christmas card while he was alive after he went home. He had a family here, married and that. He'd only be down there for the season, see, perhaps about two months or three months.
Would you have anyone else living in the house?
No, no one else.
You've mentioned that your mother tried to keep one or two cows.
Oh yes. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 16. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
With the Railway Boarding House, when you were living there, how much land did you have?
There was only, like, a paddock, if you can understand, the run of the back yard and there was a little lucerne paddock that run up to the road. It belonged to another man. It didn't belong to the house, but it was there and - oh, empty paddocks all round. There wasn't many houses there. Very small place Kingston was those days, very small.
What other sorts of animals did you keep around the house?
We always had a dog, couple of cats and that. Don't think we've ever had many birds. I've had birds since I was married - like, budgies and things - but we never had any birds.
Did you have poultry?
No, nothing like that then. My mother used to do dressmaking. Yes, she was very good with the needle. Self taught, but she was very good with the needle, and of course they'd make a lady's dress and line it all, inside and out. Every panel - and there'd be perhaps nine panels in the skirt. I remember, I used to sew the panels - the linings - for her. You know, help her tack them, before she stitched them up on the machine. And she'd get ten shillings for doing that. That was a lot of money those days.
Did the women come to the house to be fitted?
Oh yes. Yes, they'd come to the house to be fitted. And she always made my clothes and then my schoolmates used to get her to make theirs. You know, their mothers'd say, 'Oh, May had such a frock,' - they liked it - 'Would you make Violet' - or Mary, or Ivy - you know, different ones, 'one the same? I'll get the material and bring it'. And she'd make it for them. Oh yes, she was very good with the needle, until her eyesight went. She had glaucoma, and she died out in the Magill Hospital. They didn't have the nursing homes in 1946 that they've got in 1986.
No, that's right.
No, they did not. We're lucky.
A lot of people talk about there being social classes. Did you think of your family as belonging to one class or another?
No, they didn't in the little places like Kingston. Naracoorte. When I went to Naracoorte in 1930 - now Naracoorte was a different place because there was always the rich people, like the landowners and the ones in good positions, that, they were kind of a little bit uppish, you know, in their own way. Of ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 17. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
course Naracoorte was a big and a thriving district because it had big tourist attraction to the caves and things like that. And then, trains were going through and that, and they used to have a refreshment room, but of course that all closed when the broad gauge went through. Work was hard to get. My husband worked in the Railway the last sixteen and a half years we were there, and that was all right. In the Railway, you were sure of your money and things and you got concessions, but really you couldn't afford to go for a holiday with a family because you wouldn't have the money to go away.
Yes, from what you were saying earlier, Kingston was a very small place.
Oh, very small. Well eighty was the school roll, and they were big young men - you know, fifteen or sixteen. Well then, those that could afford would send them to Naracoorte to board, or else go by train three times a week to the high schools. And that was the state of the school. But we had some very good teachers there. But one head teacher, and a couple of monitors. You know, like, local girls they were, that didn't have to - - - [have qualifications MS]. They went to Grade - - -. Well, it wasn't grades those days, it was Classes - 5 and 6, see, and you didn't go above 6. Then you went to high school.
I'd like to talk a little bit more about your schooling a little later on.
I told you, didn't I, that I left when I was twelve?
Yes, we'll talk about that in a minute. You said that there were empty paddocks all around you at the Railway Boarding House.
Oh yes, empty paddocks.
Did you have neighbours?
[queries question]
Did you have neighbours next to you?
The police station wasn't far away. There was an empty paddock between, and I remember I used to take milk to the policeman and his wife - Mr and Mrs Marshall - Constable Marshall and his wife. They had no children. And I was very thin and pale when I was young and he always used to call me Snowball. You know, because I was - - - [fair MS]. And I had red hair - I wasn't snowball. And he used to say, 'I'll have to get some paint and paint your cheeks'. Teased me and that about being thin [and fair MS].
Did you take milk to other people in the town?
No, just them. We didn't have a licence. It was just that they used to - - They were very nice neighbours and that. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 18. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
What about the butter that you said your mother made? Did she sell that?
The butter? Oh, later life, when she was - - - [short of money MS]. When my father - - - [wasn't working MS]. Well, he gave up for a while there, bullock driving, because there was no work, and then they went on the pension, see. And he was on the pension really when he died, but this job that he'd done was for a man that couldn't get anyone else to do. It was hauling box thorns, if you know what they are - do you?
Yes.
And that was the job he was doing the day before he died. Yes, I've made butter myself, in a big wooden churn. Used to - had a separator, and you'd make it in the churn, and put it into pats, you know, a pound, and weigh it. And you'd get ninepence a pound for it. And they'd sell it at a shilling at the shops.
Did you do this in your early married days?
[queries question]
Did you do this when you were first married?
No. No, when my mother went away, as I tell you - she went up to the Caves where my father was working on a sawmill - and I went up and lived in their house, my husband and I. And we were renting a smaller house, and she said, well, she couldn't go without she had someone in the house, so we gave up the smaller house we were renting and - we had two children then - and we took - - - [over the cows MS]. I had the cows and I milked them and separated the milk and sold it, and used to send the little boy to pick the cows up and take them [back and forth MS]. We'd give them a shilling a week to take them to the paddock and bring them back. They didn't know where to come home to their food and water, you know. And I used to make it and sell it then. Used to get up early in the morning and - you'd have to, before the day got hot, to make the butter.
How many pounds would you make a week?
You'd make it perhaps two or three times a week, see, and you'd make about eight or ten pounds each time. In certain times of the year. You wouldn't make that all the year round because the cows go off in certain times of the years. They don't give so much milk. Yes, I used to do that, and I didn't mind doing it. It was extra work but you didn't mind it as long as you were well enough to do it, which I was, or I couldn't have done it. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 19. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
When you were a little girl, what sort of chores did you have to do around the home?
I was taught to make my own bed when I was old enough and helped with the dishes, and I made my girls do the same. I don't think it hurts them.
Did you earn any pocket money when you were a girl?
No, not until I went to work. First job I ever had was six shillings a week as postmaster's - like, nurse girl with the little children. You know, washed up and made the beds for them and took the children out in the afternoon for a walk down the beach and that. I had to walk a mile to and fro to work.
How old were you when you did that?
When I done that I was about thirteen, fourteen. Yes, I was - just fourteen when the outbreak of the war.
We'll talk about the different things you did for work a little later on. I'd like to talk a little bit about your family. Did your family attend church?
We always went to Sunday School. My mother and father didn't go but the minister - - - [called MS]. We were baptised by the Presbyterian minister but there was no Presbyterian church in Kingston - you had to bring them from Naracoorte to baptise and there'd be a lot be baptised the same time. But, we always went to Sunday School, you know, and that, and the minister used to come round - the Methodist minister. And Methodist Sunday School - we always went to that. And there was one resident minister in Kingston - the Methodist - and there wasn't a Catholic church. They used to hold church you'd go to once a month there. The priest would come from Naracoorte. And the Church of England - the minister'd come from Robe once a fortnight. There was a church, but - - - [no resident minister MS]. He'd come once in the morning and the following week he'd come in the evening. So the Methodist was the most popular one because they were resident there.
Yes.
This man that Harper Wing is called after [at Wesley House Hostel where I now live MS] - he was at Kingston when my family were going to Sunday School, before I left Kingston. I meet him here nearly always when he comes to the Christmas dinner here. He's an old man now - lives at Woodville.
You were saying that the family didn't have much money to spare.
Oh no, no. No, everyone seemed to be, you know, on a - with the exception of the landowners and people that had a lot of property. And of course those days the landowners - - -. They bought the land very cheap and then of course ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 20. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
they got - rented some very cheap, what they called Crown land. And they employed men in the shearing time and working amongst the sheep, you know, the usual station hands they called them. And they got - they didn't get big money, but it was regular. But there was a lot of vacant land, you know, around. You could count the houses, really, in Kingston, at that time, and you knew everybody. Knew everybody's - dogs across the street and everything. (laughs) Because it was so quiet.
Was there any place that you weren't allowed to go in Kingston?
We used to have - you know, like in the war years - we used to have frolics and things, and dances. Like, the people that couldn't go to the war and that, we used to make the best of it and have socials and things like that. You had to because, goodness me, if you didn't do something like that, you'd just be a hermit. But we made our own fun.
Were there any people you weren't allowed to associate with?
No. No, there was no people - not like they are now, you know what I mean. You knew everybody. And even the natives round there, they were a res- pectable lot of people. They used to get rations from the police station - from the government. My father went to school with them, and we never called them blacks, or Aborigines - we always called them the natives. They were natives of the early days, see, there, and they were a decent lot of people. Shearers and that. My mother used to make frocks for some of the wives and daughters of the families that used to work on stations and that, like cooking and learning to do housework and that. No, they were a good people.
You've mentioned rations, and I know quite a lot of people had to go on rations.
Oh, through the Depression we had to do that. Yes, we did. I don't deny it. In fact I think myself, that if they were on them now, that there wouldn't be so much of drugs and things. I don't.
What about before the Depression? Did your family ever have to go on rations?
Oh no. No, you always got plenty. You earned enough to - - - [live MS]. But you couldn't save money for a home or anything. There wasn't enough work or anything around - not in those little places. And you didn't like to come to the city because you had to have money to come to the city. Like, if you were married I mean. And, see, it wasn't till the Housing Trust started that so many could buy homes in the city.
Would you go perhaps to Naracoorte as - - -? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 21. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
We went there because there was more work there, see.
Yes, but I'm thinking of, say, outings, or shopping for big items. Where would you go to do that?
Just in the local shops there and that. There wasn't Coles or Woolworths there in those days. There was just the ordinary - - Eudunda Farmers. It was like a country - big country store - a kind of a co-operative. You know what I mean. According to what you spent, you got benefit at the end of the year - like a bonus, and things like that.
Could you get everything you needed in Kingston, or did you have to go to Nara- coorte or somewhere else?
Oh no, you could get, you know, drapery and things like that, those days, there. Yes, there was big shop there - Jar man's. He was an early resident, Mr Jarman, a Welshman, and he started up with a shop one Christmas Eve. Shilling tables, you know?
No.
And, my word, he made money, and his sons carried it on until they died.
What's a shilling table?
Well, anything on the table, see, wouldn't cost any more than a shilling, those days. Like, ornaments and little gifts and things. But you wouldn't get it for a shilling now, would you? (laughs) Well, that was ten - what we would call ten cents now was a shilling - and then there was sixpence. And thru'pence was three pence - a little silver coin. Sixpence, a five cent piece size. And then there was the penny and the halfpenny and a farthing. So all those - -
Did you ever have any money of your own - - -
Only what you worked for, dear. before you went to work? Did your parents ever - - -?
Oh no, no. We never ever expected it. You know, what I mean, you didn't expect it those days. You never got pocket money. Well, you got all your food and fruit and things like that, you know, and you didn't expect pocket money.
END OF TAPE 1 SIDE B: TAPE 2 SIDE A
Before you started going to work, and perhaps while you were still at school, did you have any ways of earning money? I'm thinking of, say, rabbit trapping, or something like that?
No, there was men used to do it those days and children never done it. And men used to earn their living by it - you know, rabbit trapping and selling the ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 22. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
skins and selling the rabbits. You'd get a rabbit anywhere for fourpence those days, you know, to buy - and cleaned and all lovely. But here, the rabbits, when you see them in the shops here, they're not cleaned like the ones that are done in the country.
You've mentioned that your father didn't read or write.
No, he couldn't see to read you know - His eyes weren't too good. Of course, being out in the sun a lot, too - never wore glasses, see. My mother did, but not my father.
Did he know how to read?
I think he could read if it was big writing - large writing, like. As I say, he only went to school for eighteen months.
What about your mother, did she read?
Oh yes, she could read and write. She was quite good at it. She had schooling, see, and that, over where she was was - they went to school. And she was younger than my father. She wasn't as old as him, see. And N hill was a more advanced district too. The Wim mera district of Victoria was rather a rich district for wheat and grain and that, you know, in those days.
Did your parents ever tell you how they met?
No. I think it was when my father came back from Northern Territory that they met, but - - -. Well, when he was working at Wolseley, they met, but I don't know how they come to meet. Never heard them say about that. His wife had, of course, passed away some years before that, see, and he went to the Territory because the children - - -. Two of them were working and one had gone to New Zealand, as I told you, and the other two the grandmother had. And one girl was still at Kingston - the eldest girl. She was working with a family out at the [Blackford Station MS]. But, of course, they were reared, if you can understand, when he married my mother.
Did you have many books in the house when you were growing up?
Oh, not a great deal, no.
What sort of thing would you read?
Oh, were mostly school books. Mostly school books.
What about musical instruments?
No. My mother used to be able to play the accordian a bit by ear. They used to play accordian a lot those days, for dancing and things like that. And two ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 23. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
of my brothers were very good on the mouth organ. You know, just self- taught, but very good on it. They could play tunes and things on it - you know, the early day tunes and that. Now they wouldn't be - - - [popular MS]. I wouldn't want to hear some of the rubbish they play now.
What about your friends when you were a girl? Who would your friends have been?
Well, the families, you know - - -. We had four or five girlfriends and that, but gradually they'd go away to work in some other town or to Adelaide or Murray Bridge or somewhere. I had one of my girlfriends down here Monday to lunch.
Did you know her when you were a girl?
Oh, we went to school together and her [youngest MS] sister was more my age. She's eighty nine this month. Her sister next to her was my pal more so than this one, although this one and I worked together a lot. And her mother and my mother were friends.
What did her father do for a living?
Just ordinary workman in the bark mill, or in the shearing sheds - whatever he could get to do - roadwork, anything. Those days were hard. They didn't have the chance of inside work. You know, it was nearly, all outside - hard work.
When your father was working around Kingston, did you ever go out with him during the day?
No. No, it wouldn't be any good see, because he'd have a load - you'd have nowhere to go to sit. (laughs) Only on the load, and that wouldn't be very comfortable.
Did you help him with the bullocks at all?
No. Oh no, nothing like that.
Apart from Sunday School, were there any activites organised for young children in Kingston?
No. Do you know, when we were girls we used to play an old ladies' game they play now - croquet. Yes, we did at school - and rounders - that was all we had. The boys used to play football amongst themselves, but there was no teams or anything those days. There wasn't enough of them.
So did you have the mallets and hoops just in the yard at school?
Yes. Yes, we did, at school. And a tennis court. They had a tennis court in Kingston, but, I don't know, you had to be kind of selected to join that. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 24. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
How do you mean?
In a little place like that. Yes. Well it was only like the Postmaster and the Stationmaster and those, and different ones that worked [in banks or businesses MS] and a few of the landowners, they'd be there - it was like a select committee, and there was no - - - [way of joining MS]. Oh no. Well you couldn't afford to join anyway.
Did it cost money?
Yes. Like, there was - like segregation with it, just like there is with some of these nationalities, you know.
So do you think there was a bit of snobbery?
Oh yes, there was. They didn't want to see the workers coming into it. Oh no, no, that was true. We always had the beach, you know, and that. I don't know, we didn't - - -. Well, you didn't know any better then, and you didn't look for anything better, if you can understand.
Did you think you were inferior to the Postmaster and - - -?
No, they were nice people, if you can understand, but there was a few - - No, the Postmaster and his wife - I worked for them - they were there for thirty years. They were lovely people. He was there till he retired. But, you know, it was some of the others, and they get on the committee - - -. No, he was a [good MS] man in his job - he never made any distinction whether you were a black, white or - you know.
How would some of the others make you feel?
Oh well, they'd speak to you or anything, but - - I know, one of the girls there in the shop, and she said one day, she said, 'I've a good mind,' she said, 'to see if we couldn't get a second tennis court, you know, and get some of us other ones', And someone said, 'Oh, it wouldn't work Beulah'. She's alive, out in the old place out at Payneham - I forget what they call it. A Methodist home or something out there now - her mind is not too good. And she was a hard working girl. Used to help her father and mother and that - the other sister in the shop and that - and they thought it'd be a good idea, but, it fell through. But I believe it's different there now. They've got tennis courts and everything [and everyone's welcome MS].
Sounds like that was a bit of a sore point.
Oh yes, it does - it hurts, you know, the working class. Because as long as you're respectable and your character's good, I don't see that it makes - ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 25. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
should make any difference. My husband always used to say, 'We all come into the world the same way and we'll go out the same way. And because Joe Blow's got more money than me, he's no better than me. He's only flesh and blood.' And it's very true.
Do you think your father felt that way?
Oh no, my father never worried about it. He always called his bosses 'Mr'. You know, now they call them anything don't they? You know, like, by their christian names - but he always said, 'Mr Rider, Mr Gall, Mr Watson', all those - 'Mr Fraser'. The names of the different landowners and that. You know, it's stupid I think. I think that's the trouble in the world today. Some have got too much and others, you know, they don't want others to have anything.
Do you think you were jealous of people who had more when you were young?
No, I don't think we were jealous - you just felt hurt. I don't think you were jealous. I think it was just that you felt hurt and then you'd think to yourself, 'Well, I'm as good as them. They might have more money but they're no better.' Which is true. But I think you find that everywhere you go - even now.
I'd like to talk to you a little bit about your schooling. You went to Kingston school.
Yes.
What age were you when you started?
Finished at twelve, dear. I went to the 4th - - I was just into the second year of the 4th Class, see. And then I had to leave to go to Robe with my mother when she went to take the boarding house on the drains. When my father was working down there.
How old were you when you started school?
I think I was six or seven when I started. I forget now. I know it was a lot older than they start now. They start you a lot younger now, don't they? And we didn't have kindergartens those days.
Do you remember starting school?
Yes. Yes, I can remember starting school quite well.
Can you describe the school to me? Was it a one room school?
There was two rooms in the school - the first school at Kingston. It was a big stone building and that. Rather a nice school to look at, but of course now they've got a big area school there. They come in from [everywhere MS] - the ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 26. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
buses bring them in from outlying districts and that, and it's different altogether. But the old school, where we was, as I told you, there was only two rooms. The headmaster's room. And he said he was really the head teacher, the headmaster - well he was, the headmaster. And then two local girls. You know, they were about - one I suppose about eighteen or twenty, they would be. I forget exactly, but they would be about that age I think. And they were nice, and they called them monitors. They weren't - - -. Didn't have to be educated. They just helped the headmaster, you know, and took the easy lessons. Like mental arithmetic, and things like that, you know what I mean. Of course it's much different to what - - - [what it is now MS]. There was no mathematics and things like that.
Which lessons did you enjoy?
Oh, I don't know. I liked gram mar and I liked reading. I was good at reading, and I wasn't bad at arithmetic. I could always - - I made mistakes some- times, but I'd think I'd be right and it'd be wrong. But I wasn't bad at it. I wasn't a dunce or anything like that, but I wasn't a genius at anything, I don't deny.
How far away were you from the school - where you lived?
About a mile. Yes, about a mile. My children used to have to walk a mile at Naracoorte when they went to school there.
I guess some of the children going to Kingston school would have had to come in from quite a way away.
Oh, I suppose now - you know, the area school - I suppose they come seven or eight miles, perhaps ten.
What about in your day? Would children ride in?
No. No, there was none of them did that then. Their people used to bring them in, you know, and they would stay in, perhaps with an aunt or an uncle, or grandmother or someone, if they had to stay in all the week. You know, perhaps one - not every child, but odd ones like that that had relatives. But, no, that was different to what it is - much different to now.
I believe that in those times, you didn't have to attend school every day.
Oh no, it wasn't compulsory, no. But you had to take an excuse - as the saying was - but, they liked a fair excuse, you know. They didn't like just to think you were playing wag, as the saying was. But, oh, you didn't hear much of it those days. They weren't naughty - you know, didn't get into the trouble they do now. Of course they've got the money see, that's where it is. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 27. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Were you kept home from school at times to help your mother?
Oh, if my mother was sick, which wasn't very often - she had pretty good - - - [health MS]. She was a big woman - she was rather strong and healthy. But I always had to do my share of work and I wasn't spoilt. I was treated well. She wasn't cruel or anything like that. But when visitors came in we weren't allowed to sit in and listen to the conversation. (laughs) We were sent out to play. Different to what they are now. Of course we didn't have wireless or TV or anything like that.
As you got older, did your mother keep you home from school to help with the housework?
No. No, I was never kept home until, as I tell you, when we went to Robe and she had the boarding house and I was kept home then to work. But then she used to give me so much money, like - you know, for clothes and things. And of course we were out in the bush, you couldn't buy anything. It was only when the hawkers used to come round that you felt you'd like to buy something, you know - some beads or something like that. (laughs) It was funny how kiddies - little girls especially - liked to doll themselves up with things. You know, ribbons and things like that.
What did you think of the hawkers?
Well, they were all right. They were mostly those Afghan hawkers - Otto Singh, Chunda Singh and - - -. There was another one - I forget the name. There was three. They were all Singhs of course - Indian hawkers - but they were all right. They came round every six months or so, and they made quite a good living. Because the men used to buy off them, see, buy clothes and things, so it was good for them. But they never had meals or anything at my mother's - they cooked their own meat and that. They never boarded or anything. It was only meals at the boarding house - nothing else, only meals. And the men slept in their own - - - [tents MS]. They were provided tents about a mile or so away.
I see. Well, I'd like to ask you about that, but just before we do, how did you feel about leaving school at the age of twelve?
Oh, I thought it was lovely. (laughs) I thought it would be something different. Well, my cousin, an older girl - a little bit older than me; she was about fifteen or sixteen - she came with us, see, so I had her company. Poor thing, she's dead now. She was a [nursing MS] sister over at Alberton for years and years - the Sirius Nursing Home with Dr Cherry in latter years. But, oh, she was a married woman then. But, you know, as long as you had company, you seemed all right. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 28. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Do you think your parents were concerned that you were going to miss perhaps a year or so of schooling?
No, I don't think they worried in those days about it, see, because people weren't so much on education like they are now. See, now even if they can't get jobs, they like you to go on and be educated, don't they, in case anything comes up. See, I've got three grandchildren, and two of them are fitters and turners. Now one's got his certificate - he put in his four years apprentice- ship. He can't get a job as that. He's driving a van. And the other one is at Elizabeth. He has to go out from Osborne every day, out there. Well he's been there two years, see, and they all had good reports from school. And the daughter, she's got a job up at Croydon, in an office, but she says it's not very busy and you never know whether they're going to continue or not.
Do you think your headmaster wanted you to stay on at school?
I don't think they worried those days, dear. They knew the circumstances, see. You told them why you were leaving, and that, and going away. Well, they knew that it wasn't that you were dodging school - you were going away out of the district, and over seven mile away from a town - the nearest town. So therefore you wasn't compelled to go. So they wouldn't worry.
Did you still have a younger brother at that time or not?
Yes, a younger brother.
Malcolm, that's right. Did he come out to Robe with you?
Yes, he came to Robe with us, and he missed a lot of his schooling too.
How much younger than you was he?
Three years and nine months.
Oh, so he would've been only about eight or nine when you went out to Robe.
Yes, that's right. Yes, he missed a couple of years of his schooling there. See, we were there for two years.
Let's talk about that time. Can you explain to me what your father was doing at Robe?
Carting machinery for the South Eastern Drainage Board. See, he was carting it both from Reedy Creek and from Robe, whichever way it came. The train only came to Reedy Creek - it was twelve miles from Kingston - and then - - -. Sometimes they used to have to go to Kingston with the machinery because it wasn't convenient at Reedy Creek. It was only a little siding - railway siding, see. So they'd have to cart it all that way or else it'd have to ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 29. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
come round by a boat to Robe and you'd have to go into Robe to get it. Well, that was seven - ten mile - the way he used to go, to get it from Robe.
So you were a pretty long way from anywhere, were you?
Yes, we were, yes. Still, we didn't mind it. Well, we were kept busy, see.
Were you living in more or less a camp setting?
Like a what, dear?
A sort of camp setting? Were there many buildings?
The main building was like, big framework and it had all like tarpaulins. Like a house, only instead of being iron roof, you know, it was all tarpaulins. They were built secure, and locks and keys on the door and everything. Because there was all classes of men, you know, come to those kind of places, and we had an iron room to - oh, like a room longer than this, not as wide - for the bedrooms, two bedrooms. But that was for the dining room with the tables, see, and forms, and then there was a place out - - -. The kitchen was the same but that had iron roof where my mother used to do the cooking and everything. And it was hard work cooking.
So where you were living, was it mainly made out of iron?
Our bedrooms were but the other part of the place was made out of tar- paulins, see, over a frame. Just like - oh, I don't know what you'd call it. Marquee, something like a marquee. Secure and rainproof and - you'd get a bit hot in the summer.
You were saying it would have been your father and your mother - -
My father wasn't there all the time, see. He would only be there occasionally - perhaps once or twice a week. Then he mightn't be there for a fortnight. Just depend where the machinery had to come from.
Would it have been both your brothers?
No, the eldest brother was in the Navy then. My young brother and me. And there was another couple lived there for a while. The other bullock driver, Munn, his wife lived there in the same kind of place as we did - but she didn't have a boarding house - and she was there too, and her young children. She had two young children. But they only stayed about twelve months. They came from Naracoorte. It was, you know, lonely, and yet you were kept too busy to be lonely, if you can understand.
Who do you suppose had erected the building that you were living in? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 30. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Oh, a man named Joe Smith - no relation of ours of course, but we knew him well. I always used to call him Uncle Joe because his wife was a sister to one of my auntie's husbands - you know, just like connected through marriage - and I always called him Uncle Joe. Nice old chap. He was a kind of carpenter and builder.
Was the building provided by the Drainage Board?
Oh no. No, my mother had to pay for it to be done. Yes, she had to pay for it to be done. And she had to pay men to sink wells, you know. They had no rainwater tank. Not for a start. We did after we had the iron rooms put up, but not for a start. They had to put what you call a bore down. It's good water but you had to have a pump and that on it. It's not like tank.
Did you have anything on the floors or were they earth floors?
They was really just the earth floors with coconut matting over them those days. They weren't board floors. Would have cost too much money to erect them.
Was there any shade from trees in area where you were living?
Oh yes, there was trees there - yes, trees. But you weren't allowed to live too close to the men, the workers, you know what I mean. You had to be about a mile or so away from them. Because that was the rules and regulations see, because you'd meet all classes of men in works like that.
Did you hear of troubles?
No. But they used to go into the town sometimes, you know, and get the worse of drink and things like that. But of course that never interfered with us because they never - - - [came near us MS]. They went to their camps - they never come down for meals or anything like that. That'd only be perhaps once a fortnight or perhaps once a month - then they'd go into Robe. But, oh no, they never interfered. We never had any trouble whatever.
Was the building already erected when you first moved there?
No. Oh no, my mother had to pay to get it put up.
So where did you live when you first went out?
Well we had to live in tents until we got it first put up. It didn't take long for Uncle Joe, as we called him, to put it up.
Was the area you were living in known by a particular name that you'd know it by today? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 31. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Oh, just the Range - Drain L they used to call the drains, see. That was the big place where they excavated land for their water to run through when it drained out of the swamps. The Range.
Did you stay in the one place for the two years?
Yes, never left it.
Can you tell me a little bit about your day-to-day routine? What were your days like there? What work did you do with your mother?
Waiting on the table and have to set up the tables, you know. We didn't have starched table cloths those days, we had what you called oil base - like what you call linoleum, that you washed down like. You know, they have the mats now - you know, place mats made of it. Well, you had that and you had sugar basins and milk jugs and things like that, and knives and forks, and you put the bread in proper containers.
How many men could you sit in there?
Well, see, there'd be shifts. There'd be so many for breakfast and then there'd be so many come on at two o'clock that would go on to work about - - Oh, it might've been half past two if I remember right now. They would be the night shift. Well, those men that came to breakfast, they would come to dinner at twelve. That's right, they'd come to dinner at twelve. And then they would come to tea about - I don't know whether it was five or six. Well, those who'd come to tea - wouldn't come to breakfast - were the shift workers. They would come about two but then they had to work on till about nine o'clock - eight or nine o'clock at night or something. I forget the exact hours, but near about. And then, see, they'd knock off and they'd sleep. Well, they'd have tea - have their good meal when they come on - and then they'd take a lunch or else send it up - - -. Send someone down and Mum would cut them sandwiches. Well then, they wouldn't come until the next day again. It was twelve and six a week you used to get for their food.
They'd pay you?
Pay my mother twelve and six a week.
So, did you have four different meals set down each day?
Oh yes, so she had no time, I tell you, to have a sleep or anything. (laughs)
How early would you start in the morning?
I think about half past six. Well, it might have been before that. I think Mum would start earlier because she'd have to cook the breakfast. ATB/I3/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 32. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
How many men would come in in the morning?
Oh, well she had about fifty six - between fifty and sixty. Like, the whole lot would be - some of the time. Of course they come and went. Some wouldn't stay long there - they didn't like it. They'd come from the city and they didn't like it, and they wouldn't stay long. But take it roughly, you'd say between fifty and sixty. Well, you might have twenty for breakfast and you might have less, see - it was hard to work out. Just depends how many was on the shift work. But they had to keep working.
END OF TAPE 2 SIDE A: TABLE 2 SIDE B
Were there other eating places that men could go to in your area?
No, there was nowhere else, only Robe township if they went in there. Some wouldn't go in. Perhaps once a month or when there was a show or anything - you know, annual show, if they were there. They wouldn't. They'd save their money, especially if they were married men and came from interstate, they'd send it home to their families.
You've mentioned that - what was his name, Ed - who's wife went up there with her little children?
Oh, Mrs Munn.
Mrs Munn. Were there other women living up there?
No, none. Oh, there was one or two Italian women with their husbands. They were allowed to camp nearer us, but they were all right, they didn't interfere. They lived in tents, those, but they never interfered with anyone. They just kept to themselves. You'd speak to them, you know, and they'd speak to you and everything, but you never had time - visiting or anything like that - because there was too much work.
So this particular camp of men would rely on your mother to do the cooking?
The cooking, yes.
They wouldn't have any other way of getting food?
Oh no. Well, the - what they called - - -. They called them heads, as they say. You know, really the bosses, the head members, like the bosses - there might be six or eight of them - they'd have what they called a mess camp. Well, they'd have a cook and he would cook for them. That'd be the bosses and clerks and - there might be six or eight of them, there wouldn't be any more. Well, that they called the mess camp.
Do you know how your mother came to be the one to do this? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 33. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
See, because my father was working down that way so much, and away from home so much, that they talked it over and they thought it'd be a good idea. Because he wouldn't be near Kingston at all, see.
Do you know whether it was worth her while doing it from - - -?
No, it wasn't really, because I'll tell you for why. There was times there - they didn't do what they do now, pay in advance - and sometimes odd ones would get away at the weekend and they'd owe you a fortnight's board and they'd be gone. You wouldn't know till someone would say, 'Where's so and so?' Never turned up - he's gone - wouldn't know where he'd gone.
Do you think she lost money?
Oh yes she did, she lost money. She lost money on it. Yes, I know that.
Over the whole period.
Yes, and worked hard, but lost money on it. Because I know, when she finished - like, she left the building to the general store keeper. Because she couldn't pay them the full amount, she left the building to him, you know, to sell [to clear the debt MS]. But it wasn't that she didn't work. My word, she worked hard. It was hard work, and she was a big strong woman. Everybody knew that - -
Was that general store in the camp?
No, no - that was in Robe - Mr Hateley in Robe. Of course Robe was a little one horse place like Kingston.
It must have been very frustrating - all the hard work.
It was, very hard work. Because I think it upset Mum very much, you know, to think all the work she - - - [did for nothing MS]. Because she did, she worked long hours and seven days a week. It wasn't - you never had forty eight hours work those weeks. You worked every day the same, and you didn't get paid by the hour. And then when you get let down, as I was saying, like that, you know, it makes it hard. I think, you know, it put a lot of years on to Mum's age, because she was doubled up with arthritis - oh, before she was sixty - and she suffered a lot with muscular rheumatism and arthritis and that in the latter years of her life, besides going blind. And I think that a lot of that was caused through the hard work. Because it was hard work and you didn't have convenience like you do now.
What about the cooking side of it? Did you help with that? ATB/I3/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 34. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Oh no. No, she done all that herself. Might peel the potatoes and do things - or peel the apples - you know, fruit, and things like that. But it was all plain food, you know - no fancy souffles. Just fries and bakes and stews and soups - plain everyday meals. There wasn't all these fancy dishes there is now.
How did she organise the meat?
Oh well, she used to buy the meat by the - sheep mostly - mutton, like. A farmer used to bring it. He was allowed to those days - they can't do those things now. Mr McLeod used to bring the meat over, and sheep. Mum would cut it down, you know, and joint it up into chops and that. Of course the beef you had to get - and corn beef and things like that, and sausages - you had to get from the butcher. He came out two or three times a week - twice a week, I think, if I remember right. And it was a long way to come - to drive a butcher's cart out with a lot of meat.
You said it was about ten miles.
Ten miles out from Robe and seven miles from the main road. On the road to Beachport it was.
So, was there a road through the area, or was it seven miles off the road?
No, it was just a country road - seven mile off the road. But the main road went past, you see, to Beachport, and you turned in seven mile - off the main road. There was a big station there in the early days - what they called Rich- mond Park. Beautiful old home in the early days. It was all ruins, you know, when we used to pass it. Had been a lovely old home.
Was there any sort of co-operation between the mess camp and your mother - the cook there?
Oh, one time - once or twice - the men - - -. Some of the bosses had wives in the town, they lived in Robe. One or two were engaged to girls in Robe. And they asked Mum to put on afternoon tea for them several times, I remember. You know, and she'd cook special things for them. And they gave her great credit for what she did. Oh no, they weren't - - - [snobbish MS]. There was no animosity or anything like that. See, that had to be, because they were the clerks and the bosses, and it wouldn't do for them to be with the men all the time. They have to be separated, in any place like that. Oh no, they were very nice - some very nice men.
Did they have the same cook all the time you were there? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 35. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Oh, I wouldn't know about that. I think they changed sometimes. But it really wouldn't be hard for them, because they didn't have to worry about anything. Everything was supplied - paid by the Government - their wages paid, and they had no worries like my mother had.
What about milk and eggs and things like that?
Oh well, eggs - you got them very cheap from the farmers not far away. And my mother had a cow - always had a cow. Might be one in and one dry, and then another one come in. Always had a cow. And then she always bought skim milk powder for puddings and things like that, because you wouldn't have enough. One cow wouldn't supply a lot of men like that. Takes a lot of milk for sweets and puddings and things like that. Mum was a good plain cook.
What did your work involve?
Washing up, drying dishes, setting the table, clearing the dishes, waiting on the table - and my cousin as well.
What was her name?
Chrissie - Chrissie Gibbs. Then one time her sister came down and gave her a spell and she stayed on for a long time, until Mum gave up. But the two cousins were the ones - they were two sisters, but one was older. So we - like, had relatives helping her all the time. She paid them, and But, you know, ten shillings a week those days was - and your keep - was good money. (laughs) Now they get eight or nine dollars an hour here.
Did you say that you were paid something each week?
Oh yes, we used to get paid, you know, something.
How much did she pay you, do you remember?
I used to get ten shillings. Like when - after we got started. But, really, there was nowhere to spend it, you know what I mean. Only when the hawkers came round and that, or we went into the Robe Show or anything like that. You couldn't go for the whole day. You'd only go for a part of the day. That was once a year - a little country show. It was quite enjoyable, the country shows, because they have a lot of horse and sheep items - grand parades of stock. And people in the country like that sort of thing.
From what you were mentioning, with all the washing up, your mother must have invested in all sorts of things?
See, we didn't have cups and saucers for the men - you had mugs. Well that made it easier. But still, there was a lot - and all was enamelware those days. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 36. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
But when - she always had a few extra china things [of her own MS], like - if anyone came that was special, like those women. But, you didn't make work - you know, like cups and saucers. But there was a lot of cutlery and that. And of course it cost a lot of expense to set it up in the first place you know. Knives and forks.
And what did she cook on?
Oh, stove yes. A big stove.
How did you manage for wood?
Oh, plenty wood. Oh yes. You'd go out in the paddocks. The man that owned the - - - [property MS]. Of course you had to get permission from him to put the boarding house there - a Mr Feuerheerdt from Lucindale - and you had to cut the wood yourself. But there was no scarcity of wood. And you weren't charged for that. It was clearing their country, you know, because it was grazing country.
Did you have to go out each day for wood?
No, you'd get some of the men that would like to earn a few shillings extra, you know. Cut down a tree and cut it up. I often think how hard my mother did work there.
Yes.
Because my father wasn't able to help her see. His work took him - - - [away MS]. He was backwards and forwards, you can understand, but it would have been a lonely life for us in Kingston - - - [on our own MS]. We would have perhaps not seen him - perhaps once in six months - if we hadn't have been there where we did see him a couple of times a week. He might have to go away for ten days sometimes to a further town for more machinery or some- thing like that. And it was better for him, because it was a lonely life for him, not being able to come home at all, if we didn't go there. That was the idea of it. But, as I said, she worked very hard.
How were you treated by the men who you served?
With the greatest of respect. Oh, my mother would give them to understand that we were only young girls and that she expected respect.
Yes, I was thinking with your cousin being about fifteen or sixteen, she might have been given the eye or whatever.
Yes, well, one time, you know, they - - -. Mum thought that they were telling a smutty yarn or something at the table, and one of the men mentioned it to ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 37. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
my mother. He was a married man and he said he didn't think it was right in case us girls heard it. And she just said straight out, that she wouldn't stand any nonsense like that - that they must respect us young girls and she'd expect it. And there was no more.
So she was fairly forthright.
Oh my word she was. Oh yes. No, they showed the greatest respect. We didn't have any trouble with them. Because you could, you know, with a lot of strange men like that, you could. But they came - some of them come from Toronto in Canada and everywhere you know. There was one chap there, he had a belt and he used to stack his sovereigns round in his belt. He was a Canadian, and they used to get paid in sovereigns those day, you see. You've seen them, haven't you?
Yes.
Well, they're like these ones we get now, only they're half sovereigns, what we get - and he had them right round his belt. He'd been there a couple of years and he reckoned you know, when he had his belt full, he'd go home back to Canada. [Break in recording when a visitor arrives.]
Yes, we were talking about the men.
Yes, the respect and that.
Did your mother ever have to get the help of the bosses?
No, never. No, they were a good lot of men. You know, they come from all parts of the world and different States. But a lot of them wouldn't stay long. They didn't like the life - too quiet for them. You know, they'd perhaps stay till they got twenty or thirty pounds together. It was pounds those days. And they would go away back to where they belonged, you know. They'd say, 'Oh no, no country life for us. Too boring,' but - - -. The other men were mostly country men, and had wives and children perhaps - twenty, thirty mile, or it might be sixty. Well they'd go home occasionally and they were quite happy there. They had to work and they had eight hours a day.
Did you say last week that it was when you were at the boarding house that you met your future husband?
Yes. Well, that's where I first met him. But it was after that that we became, like, engaged. Well, not engaged, but we kept company - after that, when we went back to Kingston. Because he belonged to Melbourne. And then, of course, he was working round Kingston when the war broke out - and he went away to the war. Well, my brother went to the war, but he left the Navy and ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 38. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
joined the 10th Battalion Infantry and he was killed as a stretcher bearer in 1916. And my husband - that was, like, later, Frank - he left in June in 1915 and he had three years and eight months service over there. From the time he went in training until he was discharged. He got to Egypt - he was in the Light Horse. And he was with a lot of others from the same town.
You would have been very young before he went to the war.
Yes, I was.
Were you keeping company before the war?
Yes, just before he went to the war. But when my son was here the other day looking at photos and things - the other night, he and his wife - and he laughed at the cards that he used to send me from the war. You know, the latter - twelve months he was away and that. And he laughed about these cards. He said, 'I didn't think they sent cards and things like that those days'. You know, these real - oh, smoochie ones, you know. 'Someone - - - what was the one he was laughing about? 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder,' you know. And, 'No shot can strike me in the heart, for that I've left with you,' and all this business. He said, 'I can't imagine Dad being like that'. I said, 'Oh, he wasn't always old like you remember him'. (laughs) And he said, 'No, I can't imagine it'. I said, 'Well, there you are. That's his writing, and there's the card'. But things change don't they, and times?
Yes. Well, let's talk about your mother finishing up at the boarding house? Did she decide to leave before the work was finished - the men's work was finished?
Oh no, there was still work there, but she decided to leave because she said it was no good working on. You weren't making anything out of it. You were only working for, you know, nothing, really. And so Dad didn't have very much more carting to do because nearly all the carting was done. So we went back and lived in Kingston. Well, we was in Kingston then, when the war broke out. We went back in early 1914 - the war broke out on the fourth of August 1914.
What did you do when you got back to Kingston - you yourself?
Well, that's when I went to work for six bob a week (laughs) at the Post- master's - Mr and Mrs Criddle. From then on I did, you know, different jobs, at the hotels and that - housemaids or housemaid/waitress. They were only little hotels. Eventually, while the war was on, I came to Adelaide and worked in Adelaide.
Let's just talk a little bit about each of those different jobs that you did. How long did you work with the Postmaster's family? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 39. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Oh, I suppose about two or three months. The children were young, see, and they'd been sick and she needed some help. So that's why I went to them. They were nice people. They didn't treat you like - you know, as if you were the servant. You were one of the family.
Did you say you didn't live there?
Oh no, I didn't live there. Used to go home every night, and come down in the day time. But, they were nice people.
Did you help with the housework there?
You know, make the children's beds. See, they had four girls at that time. They had six girls and one son to finish up. She died when the son was born and he was killed in the war. Sad end.
Yes.
But, no, and then I came to Adelaide and I worked at different places in Adelaide.
You say you worked in the different hotels in Kingston. There was the Crown - -
The Crown. I never worked at the Royal Mail - that's the top hotel there, up near the beach. I worked at the Crown and the Kingston Arms, but that was dislicensed because three in a little one horse town like Kingston, it wasn't warranted. And they turned it into a coffee palace.
Which one did you work at first?
The Crown.
How did you get the job there?
Oh, it wasn't hard to get jobs. They couldn't get girls - - -. There wasn't that many girls there went to work. This girl that came down the other day, she was their waitress, and I was housemaid/waitress, and we both worked there. We used to have to get up five o'clock in the morning and call the train pas- sengers three times a week, and go to get them their breakfast, and they'd go away by the train at half past six. And after breakfast we'd do beds and, you know, do the dining room and help one another. And then in the afternoon we'd have two or three hours sleep, and then we'd go on again till about five and six. And then we'd have to wait till the train come in Monday, Wednesday and Friday night at eight o'clock - till the train passengers came. If there was any. There might be one or two and there mightn't be any, but you had to wait and see. And if there was, well, we'd get them their tea. It was only as a rule travelling, you know, like - commercial travellers they used to call them ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 40. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
those days. Or it might be a few visitors going to a little town or somewhere, you know - visiting relatives. But we were all right. We got ten bob each week.
Yes, so a bit of a raise from your six shillings a week. What was your girlfriend's name?
Gladys Smith. (laughs)
Was she any relation?
No relation at all - we laugh about that. (laughs)
Did you live there - at the hotel?
Oh yes, you had board and residence. But our homes were close. We could've stayed home, but they gave you board and residence so you might as well stay there. That was included with your wages.
How long did you stay at the Crown?
Oh, I don't know. We were there off and on, I suppose, twelve or eighteen months. She'd left before I did. She went away to Murray Bridge to work.
You say off and on. Did you not - - -?
Well, what I mean - - In the busy time of the year - what they called the shearing time - they had more people in. The stations used to have to have shearers come from other parts to shear all their sheep and they used to get busy then, see. Well, they needed more help, so we worked there then. But, oh, I came away to Adelaide in 1917 and I worked at the Newmarket Hotel - you know, on the corner of West Terrace there?
Yes.
A lovely hotel that is.
Well, we'll talk about that in just a minute. What about when it wasn't the busy season in Kingston? When it wasn't the busy season, did they let you go?
Oh yes, they wouldn't want you, see. There was nothing really - - - [to do MS]. Well, they'd keep one girl on.
How did you feel about that?
Oh well - - -. You'd know that that's all they'd want.
That would have made it a bit dicey for you.
Because the hotel keeper's wife would do the cooking herself, see.
Was it a Mr Bridgland there then? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 41. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Mr Bridgland was the old people - they were wonderful people. She was a real hostess. You know, she'd - when anyone came to the place, she'd meet them at the foot of the stairs and welcome them. But it was her daughter that we worked for mostly - Mrs Bogie. He was an Englishman and he - - -. He fell in to a good thing by marrying their daughter because she was an only - - Well, she wasn't an only daughter, but he knew that she had money. He was a very ignorant kind of a chap - he wasn't a nice chap at all.
How did your parents feel about you working at a hotel?
Well, they knew there was nothing else for it, dear, and you can be just as good in a hotel. As I said, I never worked anywhere else but a hotel and I've never drank in my life - and never smoked. And you know what other people do - it doesn't worry me. And Pm not one that would say, 'Don't smoke,' or 'Don't drink'. That's their business. But I never liked drink and I've been con- gratulated on working at hotels and others drinking. And I've seen cooks - when you go to dish up the meal - they'd be that drunk they could hardly stand up and, my word, it turns you against drink.
Were you involved in serving drinks at all?
Oh no, never. No, not that. But some hotels are - - -. The hours were good, see, and the unions step in there, like - they did in the town - - In the country hotels they didn't, see. You weren't in no unions then. But here in Adelaide, we had to belong to a union. I think we paid two and six a week union fees, but we got twenty two and six a week.
Was this during the First War?
Yes.
You've told me about your work at the Crown. Did you do similar sort of work at the Kingston Arms?
Yes, but that was a smaller hotel. She was a widow that had that.
Was that a Naylan?
Mrs Naylan. She was a widow - and her daughter. Oh, I slept in the same room and I was just like one of the family. She was a lovely woman.
Did you earn the same amount of money there?
Yes. About ten shillings a week.
What about the times when it was the off seasons in the hotel? Did you just return home? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 42. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Just go home - to nothing. (laughs) Oh, I helped Mum with - like if she was doing any dressmaking. I'd help her with doing things or do the work, that she could do that. She liked dressmaking because she was good at it. Only self- taught, but, still, she was good at it.
END OF TAPE 2 SIDE B: TAPE 3 SIDE A
Did you say it was 1917 when you went to Adelaide?
Yes.
Why did you decide to move down there?
I went to Robe for seven months before I went to Adelaide.
Did you?
Yes, seven months at a coffee palace when Jacksons had it there - the Bay- view Coffee Palace.
Why had you gone to Robe?
Oh, just for a change. Something to do. No attraction or anything there. But it was nice. It was right opposite the Town Hall and you were treated like one of the family. There was another girl worked there besides me.
How had you got that job?
He used to drive the Church of England minister up to the Kingston church, because they had the church but they didn't have a parish home in Kingston so he used to bring him up. Once in the morning one week, and then the next week he'd bring him up in the evening. And he used to go to the hotel, like, they were English people. And he asked did they know anyone that wanted a job. Any girls round Kingston that wanted a job. So those ones I used to be at the Crown with they said, well, they knew that I was out of work, and so he came and seen me. He said, 'Well, the wife wants someone,' and he said, 'Would you go and give it trial?' I said, 'Oh yes, but I can't for a week or so'. He said, 'That's all right'. So I went. I stayed there seven months.
How did you feel about leaving Kingston and leaving your family?
All right. I used to come up once a fortnight. He'd give me a drive when he came up with the minister, see - he'd let me come home that day. Because I didn't have time off there - you know what I mean - and I'd come up and see them and have a few hours with them while he was there, and then go back. So I didn't mind. And it was very nice, and we used to go to dances just across the road at the Institute Hall. Nice little place, Robe, and I was there in the ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 43. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
busy summer time where they were kept fairly busy and they put on extra staff. So I stayed there seven months.
Then I got wandery feet and I thought Pd like to go to Adelaide. (laughs) And I came down and I stayed with some friends for a while and then I went to the Newmarket.
How did you arrange going to Adelaide? Who were these friends who you stayed with?
They lived out at Carrington Street - the name of Mof fats. I didn't know how to go about the job. So one of the girls that lived there - she was a country girl, and she was engaged to their son, and she had a job - but she told me she'd take me to the Registry Office, you know, where you register your name and so on. She said, 'Why don't you try?' and I tried it and it was all right. I was there for quite a while.
Where was this Registry Office?
Oh, I forget now - whether it was Currie Street or - - -. One of those streets - Way mouth Street. It's a long time ago.
Was it a private registry business?
No. I think it was fairly big, because you used to go there and put your name down if you wanted work. Like an employment bureau. But I can't remember the name of it. And Phyl Saunders took me there and so I went round and seen this Mrs Bright, and I went there to work. I went home for a weekend. I hadn't been well - I had the 'flu. And when I came back I went to the Railway Ter- minus - the one I told you about. It's the Strathmore now.
Yes. Had you ever been to Adelaide before you came up to work?
I'd been there for a holiday but not to work.
When was the first time you came to Adelaide?
Oh, about 1916 I think. My mother and I came for a holiday. We stayed at West's Coffee Palace - that's a long time ago. Used to be West's Coffee Palace and the Grand Coffee Palace, Crystal Coffee Palace. I remember those places. But, yes, I liked Adelaide and I thought it'd be nice to try it, so I went there and it was nice. When Burford's had their big fire I was working at the Newmarket. Can you remember that?
No. ATB/I3/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 44. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
No, too young. (laughs) Too young, that's right, you would be, because that's a long time ago. We went up in the balcony and seen the flames. And we all went down there to see the - - -. And the people were shifting their furniture out of the little cottages there. It was right in the city, you know - the west end. It was terrible to see it.
The Newmarket was on the corner of - - -?
West and North [Terraces].
That would be a fairly interesting intersection, I think.
It is.
You'd have a lot of traffic going by.
Yes it's a very - - - [noisy MS]. Noel Teasdale, now, the footballer's got it.
You wouldn't have had the slaughter yards down there any more by the time you were working there.
No, oh no.
What was the west end like - how did you find it?
Well, I don't think it's as bad as what you hear about it now. I never ever found it bad. You know, I walked home, like, from the theatre and never ever had anyone - - - [trouble me MS]. Not on my own - with friends. And we never had anyone [worry us MS] or seen anything wrong or anything out of place at Hindley Street. But now, I don't know - it doesn't seem to be the same now.
What did your work involve at the Newmarket?
Housemaid. And you helped in the dining room when the waitress was off. But it was very nice there, very - - - [pleasant MS].
Did you wear a uniform?
Yes, black with white aprons - like, stiff white aprons. The girls here don't wear uniforms.
Did you wear a uniform in the coffee house at Robe?
Oh, white aprons over any frocks, like. You know, light frocks you'd wear. You didn't have to wear a uniform there. But I like the uniforms - I think they - - - [are smart MS]. Although I don't like these big white starched aprons. Too much work ironing them. (laughs) No, I think a uniform is nice, as long as it's not too much ironing. Of course these days they have drip-dry frocks and that. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 45. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
You were telling me that you joined the Union, did you?
Oh, you had to join then. The [Miscellaneous MS] Australian Workers Union or something. It was only half a crown that it cost you to join. Of course those days they helped you a lot but I think unions have gone too far now. They've gone too far in lots of ways.
How much did you earn a week?
Twenty two and six, then.
So that was a good deal more than you'd earned in the country.
Oh yes. But, of course, as far as that goes, a pound would go - - -. Like, one pound was twenty shillings. That would go as far as five would now. You could go out and you could buy a lovely pair of white shoes for ten shillings - at Ezywalkins or Blacks or Jar mins, those shops, you know, in the city. And stockings were cheap - silk stockings were only fresh in then.
I can remember when Frank - my husband, when we were engaged - he went to Melbourne when he came back from the war, to see his mother and sisters. He only had two sisters alive then. He went to see them and he wanted to bring me back a present. So he said to the sisters, 'I want to take May back a present. I don't know what'. They said, 'Get her some silk stockings,' so he brought me back two pair of black silk stockings, and I thought I was made. And they were silk right to the knee! (laughs) Those days - oh, they were lovely silk stockings, then. But now, they don't wear them to the knee. You know, they were full length stockings which you wore sus- penders with them but silk to the knee and the other was lisle - and I thought they were lovely.
I hadn't heard of that - being silk to the knee.
Oh you hadn't? Oh, yes. When they first come in, they were only to the knee. Yes, that was 1918 - 1919, early in 1919.
Did you enjoy working at the Newmarket Hotel?
Yes I did. There were nice girls there. There was a couple from the South East and, you know, you get to know different ones. And it's surprising who you meet. You'd meet people in town, you know, that'd be down on holidays and you'd strike them perhaps in Rundle Street when you're shopping or some- thing, you know. It was nice, I liked that. Then, as I tell you, I had the 'flu and I was sick.
That wouldn't have been the influenza epidemic, would it? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 46. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
No that wasn't the epidemic, no. I was at the Terminus when they were dying with that. And one of our girls, she was to go to the races - Nellie MacNamara was her name - she was to go to the races on the Monday, and she went to bed on the Saturday with influenza and she was dead on Monday night. That was terrible. And her room was fumigated out and no one was allowed to use it. She was a housemaid at the Terminus then. No, that was in early 1919.
That you got ill, or - -
I didn't. Oh no, mine was just ordinary 'flu. It wasn't like that pneumonic. They used to have yellow flags outside the houses and if you'd go down the Port Line you'd see all the houses with yellow flags and a tradesman leaving all the goods on the - outside. They wouldn't go right to the house - they'd leave them at the gate, you know, or in a box. They wouldn't go inside. Oh, it was terrible.
Yes. But did you get ill enough before to have to go home?
Oh, well, I wasn't well after and the doctor said, 'You want to rest', so I went home for a week or two and then I come back. And I went to the Terminus then.
Why? Couldn't you return to the Newmarket or what?
Well, I could have, but, see, they had to put a girl in your place. Well, you don't like to say to the girl, 'Well, I'm back now'. Well, you can't expect them to - well, you didn't those days, anyhow. I don't know what they do now.
So how did you get the job at the Terminus?
I met someone one day and they said that they knew someone that worked there. And they said, 'They generally have pretty good staff there,' and I said, 'Oh, I don't know'. I said, 'It'll be hard to get a job,' and they said, 'Oh, well, there's no harm in trying'. So I went and tried and there was a girl that was leaving. She was a Nellie Quinn - she was leaving to get married. So I struck her job. I had to wait a week or so, and I took her place. And then I left there to go home and get married myself.
So when was it that you went back to Kingston?
In early 1919. And I was there for the ten months. That was very nice and very easy - had good hours. You shared a room with someone else, which was nice, but you weren't allowed to do your own washing or anything on the premises. I used to send my washing home to Kingston to my mother. (laughs) ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 47. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Yes I did. Once a fortnight. Then I found someone that - - -. Those friends at Carrington Street that I said to you - Moffats - I used to go out there and do it then. Pay them for the use of the gas and the iron and do it. But, see, the laundresses wouldn't put up with anyone interfering with their work or coming in when they're working. They wouldn't those days. I don't know what they're like now.
So, did you and your husband-to-be have an understanding before he went away to the war, that you'd be getting married?
No. No, we just wrote as friends. You know, kept corresponding. And then when he came back, went down to meet him and everything, and started from there on. And my sister was engaged to a chap named Smith - no relation at all. He come from Mundulla - Bordertown way. Frank said to me one day, he said, 'I'm going to bring someone to see you today,' and I said, 'Where?' 0h,' he said, 'we'll go down the Rotunda and have a cup of tea and I'm bringing someone to see you'. I said, 'Oh, I'd like to know'. He said, 'No, never mind, wait and see,' and it was this poor chap. She gave him up, my sister, and she married [someone else MS]. I was so sorry for him, you know. Because Frank said he'll never forget the day that he got word that she'd given him up, and he said, you know, he really took it hard. And of course Frank says to him, 'We should've been brother-in-laws, shouldn't we?'
So once Frank got back from the war - your husband-to-be - did he work in Adelaide for a while?
No, he didn't. He had a real good holiday here for a while - for a couple of months. Oh, he went backwards and forwards to Kingston - to the reunion. They had a big reunion of all the returned men. I thought, 'Oh well, it's no good me going - keeping on, if I'm going to get married. I might just as well get married now and be done with it,' and so we went back to Kingston and we were married there. Nearly all the children were born at - - -. Well, what weren't born at Kingston, were born at Naracoorte. Four were born at Kingston - the other four were born at Naracoorte.
Just before we go on to talk about that, the one photograph that you were able to lend me, was the one of your portrait that was taken. Did you say that was taken on a New Year's Day?
Yes, at Mount Gambier.
About 1918. Was that a special outing?
It couldn't have been. I don't know why I said 1918. Must've been 1916 because I was working for Mrs Naylan then. I told you 1918. I'm sure it was 1916 ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 48. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
because I was working for Mrs Naylan and I only went to the Mount after that. Like, I had been to it since, but that's when we had the photo taken.
How many of you went down that day?
Oh, about five or six of us girls. Just went for the trip. Oh, there was some married people from the town too. We went on the early morning train and we never got home till late that night again, because it was a long journey. It was like a special train and - - -. Caledonian Day. It's a wonder the photographers were open that day, but they were.
Did you all have your photographs taken?
Well, I know two or three of my cousins did. Because I went with them. They went with me or - I was with them when they had their taken - but I don't know about who else had them.
Can you tell me about the sort of work that your husband did in the early years of your marriage?
Well, he tried fishing. There was a lot of crayfishing and that at Kingston, and he tried that and he couldn't take it. Six months and he - - - [gave it up MS]. There was good money in it those days. His partner had owned a boat, see, and he'd been there years and years. There was three brothers - DeLongvilles - they were all fishermen, and he went partners with this Charlie DeLong- ville. He owned the boat, and he used to take a share for the boat and a share for himself and a share for my husband, you know what I mean, which was fair enough. But they made good money. They used to clear ten dollars a week when they did it. But he couldn't stand it. He used to go out and bring his dinner home the same as he took it out. The sea didn't agree with him. Sea- sick - he used to get seasick - and yet it's very calm. But there are rough spots down near Cape Jaffa where there's been some tragedies.
Then he just took casual work - whatever they could get then. Like, in the shearing sheds or the roadwork. Road making that was - contract work, see, and they'd have contractors and the men'd all go. Come home at the weekends and go out Sunday, back to work. And then in 1930 we went to Naracoorte. Oh, we were were out - for two years and a half - out in a station, but we had to come in on account of the children's schooling, the two eldest ones.
What were you doing out on the station?
Oh, he, like, had to round up the sheep and change them from different pad- docks and things like that. And he was a city bloke - never seen a sheep I don't think, only at shows, before he came there. (laughs) But he got on all right at it. It was lonely - I never seen a woman for four months. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 49. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Was there a family living on the station?
No, we were two miles from the nearest station, [ConMurra, and the people on it MS] weren't the owners. Ryder Brothers owned the ConMurra station, and the one that owned [the one we lived on MS] was a man named Fraser and he lived at Mitcham. He had a manager at Murrabinna and he was our boss, and that was nearer Kingston.
What was the name of the station you were working on?
It wasn't a station. Murrabinna was the station but it was only, like, their offside place.
Paddocks and - -
Paddocks, and a house and land. But about five or six different paddocks. You had to shift the sheep all the time and see that they needed - plenty of water and everything and the grass was good and there was always plenty of shelter for them. And you had to shift them from one paddock to another. If you didn't they got, what do they call - coasty.
Oh yes, with the deficiencies.
Deficiencies, see, in the food. And he was a real city-ite, but he got used to it. We put in two and a half years out there. We saved money out there. But you had to come into town, see, to - the kiddies' education.
What years would you have been living out there?
Well, I was out there when Roma was born, and she'll be sixty this year.
She was born in 1926?
July, 1926. And the other two, see, were older. One was three years older than her and the other one was two year older than him.
Was she born while you were working out there?
Yes. I came into the town. Had to leave him on his own - for six weeks and a half. (laughs) Gee, was he full up of it. I think he'd have left there if I hadn't have come back. [break in recording]
I'd like to talk to you in particular about the time when your older children were born. Can you tell me about that? What about the first child - that was Florence?
Florence, yes. She's sixty four. She was born at Kingston and a midwife - a Mrs Dungey - and my mother attended me with her. There was no doctor there. Yes, poor old thing - she's been dead many years ago. Her daughter married my stepbrother - that was Alick, you had the pink photo of, you know. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 50. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Did you know what to expect with childbirth?
Well, I'd heard so much about it and knew different ones that had - about my age that had children. But, no, I think I, you know, expected a certain amount. I wasn't disappointed - you know what I mean - I knew that it's a long labour as a rule, the first child, which it was - it was eight hours. But then I got on well after so I - - - [soon forgot it MS]. And then I had the second one, with no doctor. The third one I had the doctor and he was no help.
Why do you say that?
Well, he wouldn't give me anything. He just stood and give a sly, sarcastic looking grin - that was Dr Stegmann. I said to him, after - - -. He came back looking for his pipe and he wanted his pipe. He said he remembered me asking for something to put me out of my misery when he had it last, and I said, 'I'm quite satisfied you wouldn't help anyone doctor'. And, oh, my mother was cross with me. I didn't care. I believed it and I said it. He said his wife thought nothing of having babies - like shelling peas. She only had one child! So that was Roma - she was a breech birth, see, and I had a very hard time. And then he just stood and said, 'Surprising what some of you little women can do'. I could've smacked his face with pleasure. (laughs)
When you were with the first two children, with the midwife and your mother, were they able to give you anything for the pain?
No, but they told me what to do and everything, and I did what they told me. Some of the old fashioned methods - pulling on a sheet and things like that with your pains. It was jolly good. But then the next time I had anyone, I went to a doctor in Naracoorte and I asked him - when I found I was pregnant, I said, 'Do you give anything Dr Hamilton?' He said, 'Yes, Mrs Smith. I've got a wife of my own and I don't like to see any woman suffer'. I thought, that's a good man. He was a good man.
So was that for Patricia?
Yes, the fourth one. She's fifty eight.
Was it because Roma's birth was so difficult that you were then looking for some help?
Yes. And I thought he would have but he didn't. And they can, you know. They can, in a case like that. But, I don't know, he seemed very - - - [hard MS]. He's a German and German people are good people but they can be very hard sometimes. He was a good doctor. He never lost any cases or anything, but it was just that he was hard. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 51. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Can you tell me about the first two births. Were they in your mother's home?
Yes. When she had the nursing home.
Tell me about that. Did she have some rooms?
Oh well, she had a room they used as labour room - see a higher bed so that you're not bending over the patient. If you've got a low bed you're bending over the patient and it gives you a bad back - gives the nurse and the doctor [back trouble MS]. And there was a basin, you know, and wash stand and things like that in there. And then they shift you into the other room. Well, she had two beds in the other room, but very seldom she had two patients at once, because in the country it's not like the city you know. You might have two come in - one'd be going home perhaps a day or two after. But she done quite a lot of nursing with this doctor. They got on well, but she understood his ways and that. But he was a good doctor but hard. I reckoned he was.
And what sort of things did your mother have? What would she have used for waterproof sheeting?
Oh, a rubber sheet like, and that. And she was very, very clean, my mother. No one that knew her would say any different. She was wonderfully clean. She always dressed in a big white apron and everything. She never wore a cap or anything, because she wasn't a certified nurse, see. She was just a midwife that learnt from experience from my grandmother. And she was very clean and very particular about everything. Everything had to be spotless.
I think later in the 1920s, the women who'd been acting as midwives had to get registered.
Oh, they do now, yes. Yes they do. But, as I say, poor old Granny, my grand- mother, all the people that she nursed - I couldn't name them, but hundreds. And she never lost one case, and yet they never scrubbed up like they do and everything now, you know. It's wonderful to think that there wasn't cases lost.
Did you have Roma there as well - at your mother's?
That was Roma's with Dr Stegmann. Yes. And Pat was born there. But then Doris was born in Naracoorte, in 1930 - July of 1930. And the others were all born in Naracoorte.
Were Florence and Ross born before your mother was working with Dr Stegmann?
Yes. When Mrs Dungey was like, just an ordinary midwife.
Did your mother give you advice on how to care for newborn babies? ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 52. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Oh yes. And if my father was home, when any of the babies were born, he'd be out sitting with the fire - and they had two of those carpet rockers. Have you ever seen those carpet chair rockers?
No.
Oh, they're old fashioned. Straight up like this, but they rock, you know. Carpet here - down the back and here. And he would sit - - -. He'd have a big fire, in a big open fireplace, you know, and a mantelpiece - in their dining room this was. It was a big room. And Mum'd wrap the baby up after they'd cut the cord and everything, and wrap them up and bring it out, and Dad'd sit there nursing it. Just like as if he was putting it to sleep. He loved babies, especially girl babies. He did, he loved them. He'd ruined that daughter of mine - that eldest one, Florrie. Oh, she couldn't do anything wrong. You know what I mean. She loved her grandfather. They all did that remember him.
END OF TAPE 3 SIDE A: TAPE 3 SIDE B
Were you able to breastfeed your children?
Every one of them. Every one. The youngest one's forty five last September I said to him the other day, 'You were the most miserable little child that I had'. He said, 'Don't tell me that Mum'. I said, 'You were. Everybody used to say, "Oh, isn't he sickly looking?". I said, 'I took you to the doctor once and the doctor said, "Nothing wrong with that child. You've only got to look at his eyes to see how bright". He said, 'Nothing wrong with him at all'.
How did you manage with two and three very young children when you were work- ing out on the station?
Oh, that was all right. I didn't have nothing to do, only cook for my husband. There was no other men there. The manager used to come out from Murra- binna - perhaps stay at night, and he'd have a meal or two with us and have a spare bed there, in the spare room. But he was a nice old chap - a married man with the grown up family. He knew me from a child, knew my parents and we used to look forward to him coming. But, oh, it was nothing to worry about. We were miles away from anybody. You know, it was lonely, but as I say, we got used to it. We used to go for a drive with my husband, with the buggy and the horse and take lunch, when he'd be shifting the sheep from one paddock. If it was nice weather, we'd go with him, you know, and set some traps he would, and we'd go out and - - - [and got the rabbits MS]. The boy used to go with him more than I did - like, Ross - he used to go with his father. Sit up alongside him, and thought he was Dad's boy. ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 53. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
Did you help your husband with the work at all?
Oh no, no, there was nothing I could do. It wasn't anything - - -. You know, I suppose women would do it on stations where they're busy, but it wasn't necessary, see - he had plenty time, and it was a seven day a week job. You know, you got paid by the week - well, quarterly we used to get paid and that. And we kept a cow, and you had fowls for fresh eggs and that, and there was fruit trees there and we had garden vegetables growing. Oh, it was quite good.
Being paid quarterly, you would have had to be careful managing the money.
Yes, well you would. You'd get your provisions, see, when you'd go in to the town. Kingston was twenty six mile - we used to go in. Didn't go in very often. We used to go in, get the provisions and that, and, as I tell you, I had the cow and I made my own butter. And we only paid six shillings a week rent for the house. It was a four roomed house, like, and a sleep-out, and a veran- dah at the front. Looked down on the vegetable garden and fruit trees and that. And it was very nice. You know, only for the children, we probably would have stayed there longer - only for the children having to go to school. But we were happy there, and we saved quite a bit of money while were out there, which we wouldn't have saved if we were in the town. Having the cow and making your own butter and fresh eggs and that, and vegetables.
When you came back into the town, did you continue to rent accommodation?
Yes. Rent wasn't dear those days. That wasn't dear at all. Ten shillings a week was as much as you'd pay for a four roomed place, you know, but they didn't get up all the 'cons that they have now.
Were you yourself able to contribute some income to the family, selling eggs or butter or that sort of thing?
Oh no. No, I was too far away, see, from - anyone like close to me, see.
What about when you moved back into Kingston?
Oh, well, I used to get that money, see, [from the butter] I used to sell - - My mother was away at that time, up with my father up at Naracoorte in the sawmills out from a place called Joanna. And I had the house. They were her cows and everything, but I had the use of them and what I could make with them out of butter. You didn't sell milk or anything then. It was only the policeman - we gave him the milk because he was such a good old neighbour, he and his wife. But I used to keep us - - - [provided MS]. Well, that's half your living if you've got milk and eggs and butter, you know. And of course we ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 54. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
always had a separator see, to separate the milk. And I could always cook. I made bread when I was out in the country. I had to learn to. A baker told me how to do it.
Did your husband slaughter meat for you?
[queries question]
Did your husband slaughter meat?
Oh yes, he used to have to kill the sheep. My son went up and seen him kill one one day, and he wouldn't watch no more. He didn't like to see him kill the sheep. You know, kiddies are funny, they don't like things like that - they think it's cruel. It is cruel when you come to realise it, but it's all the world over isn't it? But, no, we were quite happy out there. As I say, it was only for the children's schooling.
In the 1920s, some women were using birth control so they wouldn't have as many children as their mothers had had. Did you know anything about that?
Well, I have had it, but there are certain things that upset you and that, so I didn't use it. I believed in a certain amount of nature take its course. But I breastfed mine and that makes a difference. It did, to me. It doesn't to every- body, and that. But I like children and my husband liked children, but I didn't know that he was going to end up so sick. But I never regretted having a big family.
Well your children were fairly well spaced, weren't they?
Yes, oh yes. Roma and Pat are the closest together - there's only eighteen months between them. But they're very close together, those two, in their ways and that. Isn't it funny? One's fair and one's dark but they're very, very close together in - like, visiting one another and having the family attach- ments and that.
By the time you moved to Naracoorte your oldest girl would have been about ten years old - Florence.
When we went to Naracoorte? She was, just ten - a little over ten.
Can you tell me why you and your husband moved to Naracoorte?
Well, as I tell you, the work was scarce in Kingston. It was scarce in Nara- coorte but being a returned soldier in Naracoorte you got a preference of work, you know what I mean, and that's how he become to get on the Railway. Because returned soldiers - and then married men with children - got a preference. But returned soldiers came first, especially married ones. So ATB/13/129-604 Mrs D. May SMITH 55. 'S.A. SPEAKS' 8604
that's how he got on the Railway, and he was in the Railway till it was time to retire. And of course his health wasn't good. They never passed him as fit so that he could join the Superannuation Fund. They didn't tell him why, but they used to check up every three months on his heart. But I think it was this Parkinsons [Disease] coming on.
Oh yes.
See, and I nursed him with that for three and a half years. He's been dead thirty years.
You said earlier that during the Depression you and your husband had to get rations.
Oh, we did, yes.
Was that before you went to Naracoorte?
No, that was at Naracoorte. That was in 1930 - the Depression and that. But we never went short of anything - you know what I mean. You got plenty food and everything, and then country people, they are very good - like neighbours and things. They always - - - [helped one another MS]. If they've got a lot of vegetables or fruit, they share, you know, and bring it into the town and give it to the baker that you get the rations off, you know. And they know, and they'd say, 'Give that to a big family,' or 'so and so', or 'you know who deserves them,' and they would give it, see. And then the Benevolent Society, they'd come round and see that the children had plenty of clothes and things. And they'd give you clothes, and I was always very good at - I'm not bragging - but remaking - - I took after my mother. I'd turn anything inside out and wash it and press it and remake it, and that helped a lot. And then when I'd finished I'd send it round to the person that gave it to let them see what I'd done with it. And they knew who to help, and they were good.
Well, I think we've covered a lot of ground today.
Yes.
Thank you very much for sharing your memories with me.
Well, I'm not ashamed of them, dear. It was a struggle, but still, as I say, I'm here and I'm none the worse for it. I worked hard and I reared a big family and nursed my husband. I've no regrets. And I think, thank God that I'm as well as I am today.