Entertainments ~ A Pioneering Story

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Entertainments by Agnes Bland

For the first two or three years our numbers were so few, our residences so far apart, and every minute of the men's time, so precious, that nobody thought of pleasures. But with the advent of young people, girls and bachelors, into our community, a new spirit crept in - they sought entertainment. They came from cities where they had enjoyed a gay life of theatre, dance-halls, beaches, etc., and they were not disposed to deny themselves everything while they were still youthful. They knew they must do the entertaining themselves for themselves, but they set about it with the same spirit as they did the work. Some of us married couples were still young enough to join in gladly, so a start was made.

Our first adventure was a Picnic Sports at a Rocky Outcrop some sixteen miles away. The day was beautiful, and the whole countryside and Bush were ablaze with wildflowers, so although the trit-trot of the horses was slow, we enjoyed the journey.

During the afternoon, in a Hurry-Scurry a young man was thrown from his horse and received a broken thigh. I recall my neighbour sitting down unwinding a long bandage from a sick knee and handing it to the Doctor; also a lady tearing a long, lace-timmed flounce from her white cambric petticoat and tendering that to help bandage the sufferer - small things perhaps, but showing the spirit of the Pioneers.

The Highlight for me that day was the Married Ladies' Race. Some score or more ladies lined up in answer to the call, also a few native women. Immediately there were many dissenting voices. "Oh, Oh, don't let them run! What chance have we against them?"

The starters looked dubiously at the entrants, but my sporting instincts, plus my intolerance of color bars, induced me to speak up.

"Let them run, only put them well behind us," I said; then pointing to the males lining up for their race, "The men are allowing the natives in, so why shouldn't we?"

True enough, they were put well back behind the rows of white women who were grouped according to age. I was placed on the fathest white line for the extraodinary reason that my husband had been a runner in Victoria! Looking at the colored women's bare feet I got an idea, stooped down and taking my shoes off, decided to run into my stockings. A plump little Jewish lady just in front of me declared she couldn't run a yard without shoes, but I risked it.

Remembering old Sunday-School-Picnic tricks of my youth I took advantage of the still murmuring and indignant ladies to steal up a foot at a time, so that when the "Go" was sounded I was somewhere in the centre. It was short but swift, and victory was just withing my grasp - I put out my hand to take the rope - when something whizzed past me, a dusky hand reached out and the rope vanished - I was second! I looked at the winner and decided she had no sense of gratitude; for when we were lining up, in answer to the query, "Are you married? Are you all married women?" this dame had timidly replied, "I not married," and prepared to retreat. About seven galatea-clad children were standing near her, and I said, pointing to them, "Are those kids yours?" and after her timid assent, I concluded, "Well, I reckon you're married enough, come along." That's what I got for being chivalrous!

My prize was a green suede handbag; the third prize, won by my neighbour, was a side of mutton donated by the Kellerberrin butcher; and the first prize was a new season's summer hat donated by a drapery shop.

Some weeks later I chanced to be in Kellerberrin, and entering a Drapery shop I was greeted by, "Hello Sis," from a counter. "I taking a numbrella stead of a hat, Sis." The winner had recognised me again. She twirled a gay floral parasol over her head, to the intense admiration of the several blue-and-white-galatea-clad grinning urchins at her heels, and remarked "Hat no good, gotta put pins in them, numbella better," and I agreed.

A neighbour gave a party, and we danced gaily in her small kitchen to an accordion and violin, while some played whist. It was quite pleasant, and all enjoyed the novelty. Some new settlers walked miles to this party. Later on the local Bachelors gave a Ball in a neighbour's new Barn - they did all the cooking, making of sandwiches, and general preparations unaided by any women, although some of us offered aid. It was a decided success, with good music, a splendid new floor and eager mob of dancers. Everyone was elated, and looked forward to may future dances in the spacious Barn; unluckily it was burned down shortly after and we were left lamenting.

But we were not easily stopped. An English Pioneer Family gave a Party; and, because the house swayed rather uneasily when more than half-a-dozen walked on the floor, the big carpet square was dragged out onto the ground in front of the kitchen door. The piano followed suit, and we danced upon the Axminster. Numerous hurricane lanterns were hanging in the wattle trees round the house; and added to these, an early havest moon showered light upon our floor. There was something very charming and fantastic about the scene with a dark ring of timber on the horizon and the delicate tracery of branches against the white clouds, and the light glancing and glittering on the quivering leaves. So much beauty for the eye which can behold it!

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It was at this same English pioneer's home that the first marriage in the District was celebrated. A school teacher daughter married a young farmer, and we all decided to roll up and give them a surprise party. But when we reached the residence, the young couple had gone away; however, we made an evening of it! It was early July, 1914, a sharp frosty night, and again because we were too many for the floor, the men gathered wood, and made huge bonfires outside. Bonfires have one big drawback - they merely warm one side - one's face and shin-bones may be cooked red while one's neck, shoulders, and backs of legs are frozen. It was so that night, which may have accounted for much argument and acrimony scattered around. The papers at the period were headlined with the sins of the Suffragettes - those most amazing women of England. Both The Boss and I were in complete sympathy with them - to me they were martyrs to the Cause - female Tolpuddle Martyrs.

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But their names were anathemanto some of the Pioneers; and very soon I was engaged in fierce defence of the Pankhursts.

"But look at the senseless things they do! They set fire to sentry boxes!"

"They chain themselves to the grill in Parliament House!"

"They slashed a picture in an Art Gallery! They are awful women!"

And all these charges were made in awed, horror-stricken voices - the ordinary everyday tone was inadequate to speak of them.

Finally, when one misguided anti-woman person spoke with delight of the way the Bobbies bashed the Suffragettes up, I cried out prophetically: "All right, you'll see! Don't you read what Lord Roberts says? Englishmen will have something much harder to deal with before long - when they meet the Germans."

I was derided - Old Roberts was an old Dope - what notice did people take of him, etc.

But only a month later we were at war with Germany; and the Pankhurst women were busy at work for the Government. My faith in "Old Bobs" was justified - his name had been held so long in honour and reverence, that in those days of 1914 he could surely not be anything but right.

In my early years a certain Hindu hawker used to roam the District in a two-horse van with the legend, "Ram Singh, Soldier, Hawker," emblazoned on the side. He never failed to sound the praises of his Lord Roberts and exhibit his medal won in the Afghan War. He would retail the story, stand stiffly at attention the while, then as he spoke the words used by his officer, he'd step smartly forward, salute, and wait for the medal to be pinned on. We always enjoyed that little show, and somehow it helped hammer home the "Roberts" Legend of Greatness.

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The first football match of the District was held at our place, versus Babakin; and some of the players walked miles to attend. In spite of that, they played a rattling good game - certainly some played the English Game and others played Australian, and things were slightly mixed at times in consequence; but all played with vim and good humour. I forget who had the winning honours; but the day was perfect; a neighbour had brought along a couple of Union Jacks that fluttered bravely over the goal-posts, so who cared? I had spent the day before preparing a meal, so that everybody was able to have a feed before setting out on the trek back to house or clearer's camp.

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As the population increased we had Footie games - clearers versus settlers, and as many clearers were half-castes, they generally won. We indulged in Sports also; there were quite a number of better-than-average athletes around, so these Sports were really good. Afternoon Tea was always served and an enjoyable day was spent by all.

All these Sports were held on Sunday - we broke the Command to keep the Sabbath holy because the men could not afford to lose more than one day a week. The clearers specially had little time, they must get on with their job while the weather conditions were suitable - so the afternoons for Play. Thus Sport on Sunday became in Institution, still adhered to in most country Districts.

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No clergyman over came near us, not even the Salvation Army, while we were penniless and struggling against the Forces of Nature, and avarice of Governments - our souls weren't worth worrying about. However, when we were on firm footing and with available cash, plus better roads, both Church and Army discovered us. No wonder many pioneers are Cynics!

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During 1913-14 the local residents decided we must have a Hall now we had a Railway and beginnings of a Town, and no sooner said than done. They received no Government Aid, but put their hands in their rather empty pockets and somehow found enough money to erect the Hall. The work was all done on the Sabbaths; the material was corrugated iron; and the building was not at all a handsome structure. On the contrary rather, it was mean and insignificant; but it reflected something very handsome indeed - the self-reliant, determined and unconquerable spirit of The Pioneer.

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In the narrow confines of our little Hall we held dances, concerts, parties, and political meetings; it was the common meeting-ground for all the settlers. During the '14-18 War years many hundreds of pounds passed through that hall-door for Red Cross, Sand-bag Funds, Nurses' Funds, etc., although none of us possessed even the ordinary necessities of life for ourselves. There were no Child Endowments, Widows' Pensions, Unemployment and Sick Benefits for the Pioneer and his family; he fought his own battle; and though some went down vanquished, they went down with the flag still flying, ready to start elsewhere.

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For the dances we either boiled kerosene tins or borrowed the Doctor's copper to make the coffee. The ladies brought the supper; the music was supplied gratis; the floor was new and good; and we danced alternately a square and a circular dance right through the Programme. Four of us always made a point of dancing a four-handed Reel - great work even on a cold winter's night. The other three have crossed the Great Divide, and only I am left to tell the tale, but it is a very joyous and satisfying memory - whatever we did was with all our might - even to a four-handed reel.

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A popular form of entertainment was a "Book Evening; some of the tokens rather amusing at times. One gentleman displayed the picture of a chubby baby on his coat lapel, and various titles were suggested - always to a head-shake, or, "No, no! Wrong!

Who wrote this book?" I queried.

Oh, a lot of people wrote this book!

"Not the Girls Own Annual?" said I; and he pleaded guilty. Some were rather shocked at this levity and vulgarity, but generally it brought a laugh; and I gained a book, The Upas Tree, by Florence Barclay, out of it. I read this book again a couple of years ago, and found it as sickly-sweet and mushy as a chocolate cream; but books were books those days, and not to be sneezed at.

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At times there were unrehearsed incidents that gave the audience a thrill - once it was our bull-dog, that hearing my voice from the stage, gate-crashed through and hurled her huge fat shape upon me as I recited some trash or other. She then propped herself at my feet and cast blood-shot eyes at the convulsed audience. As she was known to have a peculiar aversion to white boots, which were then fashionable, I had the joy of seeing several pairs of white boots cautiously withdrawn from view and hidden beneath skirts - 'ware Venus!

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Another evening a visitor came on to the stage to address us on Politics. I have forgotten which Party he was speaking for, but every short while he would bump a closed fist in the other palm, and re-iterate, "it's time we..." At about the tenth "It's time..." the conjunction of ideas must have struck an Ulster Pioneer who stood directly in front of the orator. Without taking his fascinated gaze from the speaker's face he mechanically drew forth a huge old-fashioned silver watch from his vest pocket, opened the back of it, detached the key from the ring and began to wind it up, with a loud creaking sort of noise. It took a tremendous lot of winding, and at least another Ulster man called out, "What time is it, Tom?"

For one fleeting instant Tom shifted his gaze in the direction of the questioner, replied, "Time ye minded ye'er own da** business and resumed his winding and fascinated attention to the orator.

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One other evening a railway worker came on the stage to render a song. First of all he declined the aid of a piano accompaniment, "He had a piano in this own throat", but ultimately he allowed the accompanist. There was a dubious sort of clap when the item ended, and a friend apologetically put forward - "A thing like that wants running over a time or two;" to which came the quick answer from the pianist - "What with? A train, I reckon!"

But the curtain has rung down for almost all the participants in our Entertainments - they are now only memories of days gone by. "Ah, Them were the Days!"

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