Monday, 27 August 2012

...BUT TEACHER SAID......

School days, school days
Dear old Golden Rule days
'Reading and 'riting and 'rithmetic
Taught to the tune of the hick'ry stick
You were my queen in calico
I was your bashful, barefoot beau
And you wrote on my slate, "I Love You So"
When we were a couple o' kids.....


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/School_Days_(1907_song)


They are/were the best days of your life... haven't we all heard or used that?

I was one of the lucky ones, I loved school, for the most part... sure there were some days/lessons, etc. that I didn't like, but on the whole I loved learning, I still do, so school was a great place to be...I was fortunate enough to live in a small village, a country town if you like, beside the sea, called Urunga, on the north coast of New South Wales. Way back in the times of inkwells in the school desks, but we weren't able to write with ink till Grade 4.

Before that, we used a slate with pencil... I still have my slate, though haven't seen a slate pencil in awhile. Of course, we could also use chalk. Funny, the slate seems very familiar... you could turn it any way you wanted, just like an iPad really.

Our pens had nibs and a wooden handle, which often became very messy.


The boys would fight over the job of ink monitor, which meant they had to refill the wells after mixing the powder with water. Eventually, we had premixed ink, a great less mess... though as I had long plaits, I had to tuck them into my collar or the boy behind was sure to dip them into the ink well.
(http://museumvictoria.com.au/collections/items/1242477/nib-pen-wooden-metal-green-circa-1930s-1940s)


This is a single desk, there were few of those, mostly double desks and in rows of four. My father and his siblings had gone to the same school and he assured me that not much had changed...


Dad's class above...


mine below... lower photo...


(Please click on images to enlarge)
I loved knowing that my Dad and my Aunts, Uncles and cousins had gone to the same school...

Today, my grandchildren go to the same school where their great great great uncle, who was a chorister, sang at the opening, way back in 1916. Different school, different traditions...

2 comments:

  1. I can see that your posts are going to reawaken lots of memories. I never did like those scratchy slates. Now our grandkisuse iPads! Luckily I never had long hair either :-)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you, Pauleen... I loved my long hair, mostly!!!

    ReplyDelete

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