Categories
1931 diary Meg

Meg’s Diary 1931

by Margaret Taylor, age 16 years
Covers January 1931 to December 5th, 1931

Meg is still at Clifton High. Takes her school Certificate exams.
Agonises over her religious calling as a missionary

back to the top…

Thursday, January 1st 1931

Last night was New Year’s Eve. Dad, Jim and Alan went to a pantomime at Weston-Super-Mare in which Olive Vivian was principle boy, and her husband conductor of the orchestra. They say it was very good. After the performance there was a dance, which went on until one or two o’clock. Alan danced with Olive and the chorus girls, and has been filled with a craze for dancing. I wonder how long it will last. The man in whose car they had arranged to come back, had been to a dance somewhere else and had had too much to drink. He was afraid to drive back in that condition and so he told Dad that he had sold the car. They were therefore stranded, but luckily found bed accomodation in Olive’s digs. Mum and I were awfully worried about them when they did not turn up, and imagined all sorts of terrible things, though we told each other they were perfectly safe, of course. At last Dad rang up about 11 o’clock and relieved our anxiety.

So the most part of the family spent the last of the old year and beginning of the new one dancing in a garish hall, with a jazz band and a lot of bare-armed chorus girls. I could have gone if I had wanted but I hate dancing, and it seems such a terrible way of beginning a new year. Instead, I remained at home with Mum, and saw the old year out and the New Year in on my knees in front of the Almighty God, asking His help, strength and comfort for all in general and myself in particular for the coming year.

The others may call me a stay-at-home unsociable thing, but I am now sure that my way is best.

Goodnight.

back to the top…

Thursday, January 6th 1931

Alan has just gone to a dance at the zoo. Dad wanted me to go too, but I did not want to. I don’t know if I ought to go to these social functions. Both Mum and Dad seem to think I am wrong to stay at home and not go out. I somehow think that it is not right, and tends to make one worldly and too full of temporal things.

The sermon last Sunday talked about how much more important spiritual things are than temporal ones, and it came as a great help to me. I believe that if I get into society I will lose all spiritual faith and thoughts, being too full of temporal ones. It is such a great problem whether this is true or not that sometimes I feel very doubtful if I am doing right in living a secluded life. I do hope I am, because I really want to do what is right and what will make me more worthy of the Christian faith and help me to do my bit in the world. This is so very important because it will change the whole basis of my life. But if I do what I honestly think is right I cannot go far wrong and God will look after me so long as I remain faithful to Him. The vicar in his sermon said that there was a little cripple child who had just died, and the father was very stricken with grief, for he had seen his child steadily growing weaker and weaker, and now had lost it altogether. Yet nobody else knew or cared about it. He said this was very like God, whose children we all are. He asks(?) us and is just as sad if we are lost to Him through our sins. And yet in this world nobody knows or seems to care whether God and His angels in Heaven are rejoicing over a repentant sinner or grieving over an unrepentant one.

It is a terrible problem, but I must do what I think right – God will help me.

Goodnight.

back to the top…

Sunday Feb 1st 1931

I don’t think I have said that Jim is now fixed up as a reporter on the Times and Echo. At least he is not a proper reporter yet and only gets 5/- (five shillings)  a week, but he soon will be I expect. He is getting on jolly well, and likes the job awfully.

I have had rather a bad time lately with my silly old glands but they are all right again now. Mum in her letter to Auntie Tia mentioned that I had trouble with my throat and Auntie wrote back full of the idea of sending me out to Nice to stay with her for a month and cure my throat for ever! It was awfully kind of her and I should have liked to have gone but of course I cannot get out of school – especially since I am now in the midst of Certificate work.

Yvonne said quite likely she will be going down to Paignton for her summer hols camping with some friends near Broad Sands. I do hope we go there this summer. I should enjoy it immensely and I am sure the others would too. Noel wrote to me just after Christmas and said he would ask Auntie Laura if I could come down for a week some time. But I don’t expect he will remember, and anyrate I could not go down until next hols, that’s April, an awfully long time off!

Auntie Isa and Carlo went down to Devon from here, lucky things, and are staying with Uncle Ned and Auntie Ethel. They would not take Carlo into the university here so he is going to try to get through the London Matric again; he will only have two subjects to take. The only trouble is that he does not know what it is to work hard!

Auntie Isa gave me a little crucifux when she left, and I wear it every day and it helps me to remember. I have decided to give some of my money away to charities when I can. I am trying hard to be better and worthy of Jesus Christ. Goodnight

back to the top…

Wenesday March 4th 1931

Dad has just returned home tonight from London, where he has been for the British Industries Fair. He did quite well.  But the family finances  are running so low that Dad will have to get a job. He met Mr. Gilman Searle (I think) in town and got the offer of a job as a travelling salesman in the firm of which he is managing director.

It would be a rotten job – going round from door to door, but it might lead to much better things after a while. Dad’s still undecided whether to accept it or not.

Jim is getting on finely with the journalist job, and has had three articles accepted already. He can get one in almost any time he likes now; the only snag is that he doesn’t get paid for it. I am still in the third hockey eleven, but sub. for the second occasionally. The last three matches on the last three Wednesdays have all been scratched, so that gives an impression of the weather at present.

Pat has rather a nasty chest cough, but it is jolly lucky that she has not caught the measles, because nearly all the children at her school have had them this term, and Pat has been in the thick of it all the time. She is a jolly sturdy little thing.

If she had caught them it would have meant Alan and me staying away from school for a fortnight, which neither of us can afford to do as we have no time to waste with the School Cert. getting nearer every day!

I have made up my mind to beat Alan in the Cert. I ought to, being older than he, but – I’m not so sure! There does not seem much prospect of spending the summer hols at Paignton; it is too expensive, but I have not given up hope by any means.

11 o’clock!    Goodnight.

back to the top…

Sunday March 22nd 1931

I see I was in the doubtful state of wondering if Dad would accept that job when I wrote here last. He has decided not to. When Dad got home that night (when I wrote last) he was not looking very fit and as he did not look any better in the morning, he had breakfast in bed. It then turned out that he had a touch of malaria and he was laid up for nearly a fortnight. He is all right now though.

Pat’s cough has also vanished and she is back at school again. Talking of school, we are in the midst of exams – the last exams before the great Cert. ones! We don’t know the results yet, but I will write them here when they are given out. We break up on Tuesday week, and then the next term will be the Summer one, and cricket will be the order of the day.

I was reading an article in the Daily Mirror this morning about the superiority of mind over matter. It is jolly interesting and very true too, as far as I can see (that’s not awfully far I’m afraid.) It said that natives sometimes die just because they wish themselves dead; they fill themselves with the will to die, and they do. If this is possible, it ought also to be possible to will yourself to live – perhaps in the dim future when we are all dust and ashes as far as our physical being is concerned, men will cure themselves just by willing themselves to be better. Anyway, this attitude was partly that taken by Christ during the healing miracles.

It is very interesting and at the same very awe-inspiring to wonder what I and the family will be doing say ten or twenty years from now. It seems foolish perhaps to worry about the future, but it is very natural and very pleasant.

It seems funny, perhaps I mean odd, to think that we are living our little life here and then spending eternity elsewhere, and yet I wonder if any of us spend one thousandth part of our time preparing or even thinking of the future, the time that really matters, when we will live, live in the true sense, and will be governed in everything by the rule, the eternal rule, of right and wrong, not that of social etiquette or the struggle for material, with which either to keep ourselves in this earth or to make our sojourn here more pleasant.

Life is such an awful riddle, yet such a beautiful and solemn one that I feel I never could solve it – God keep me on the right path to the end, which is really the beginning – the beginning of a Greater Life.

Goodnight

back to the top…

Easter Sunday April 5th 1931

We broke up on March 31st, and so we are getting used to the holidays by now. Last Sunday I went out for a promised walk with Jean.

We bicycled out to Westbury where we left our bikes in the care of a kind garage man who refused payment (we only had 3d, though he did not know). We then started off walking and carrying our tea. After going some time, hunting for birds’ nests and watching two little tree creepers pecking trees for insects, we decided it was time for tea. Accordingly we mounted a gate, but finding it too windy got down on the other side and sat in the shelter of a large haystack. In the midst of our repast a boy entered the gate and drove out two of the sheep that were in the field. He did not seem to notice us, although we were in full view.

Then the other sheep with about six or seven sweet little lambs came up and started edging towards us, for crumbs I expect. Then the old mummy-sheep began to get interested and eyed us very sternly. We both began to remember all the terrible stories we had heard about mother animals getting angry and protecting their children. We did not want to hurt the lambs, but the mothers did not look as if they believed this, and as they were coming steadily nearer we rose cautiously and, going to the far end of the field, jumped from the root of an upturned tree to the peace and safety of the little road again. Now the danger was over, we began to feel brave again and say that of course they were really quite harmless, and anyrate we could tackle four or five of them quite easily. But still it is the moment of danger that counts; it is easy to be brave afterwards!

Yesterday we played tennis on the school courts with Jean and her brother Kenneth. Neither of them were much good, but I’m afraid we were not either. I have booked a court for Monday evening so I expect we will all be getting in shape soon.

I fixed up a sort of holiday club, and we play cricket and hockey on the Downs about once or twice a week. I have already played cricket snd hockey once, it’s jolly good fun.

Alan and I went to church on Good Friday, and had a very good sermon on taking opportunities when they are given us.

Dad is almost sure to go down to Paignton next week end – I do wish I was going too, but I’m afraid that there is no chance of that. I am longing to hear how Noel is getting on with his farm, it’s been rotten weather just lately, perhaps all the chickens have been drowned, and the pigs become stuck in the mud up to their knees!

It is awfully hard, now I have decided to do only what I think right, and have begun to think about whether things are right or not. Just now Jim has being trying to make me join in a card gambling game, but I don’t want to begin gambling, for if you once begin you seem to go on and on and money become a prime factor in your life, which I am trying to get rid of. It would be jolly comforting now we have such a small amount of money!

Anyrate Jim laughed at me and said something about ‘religious’, it’s jolly funny how people look down on ‘religion’. I think the best way is to keep your feelings to yourself, but it is not always possible.

Pat is having the day of her life today! She got tons of eggs. I hope she won’t be ill! We gave Mum and Dad a Pyrex dish which they were very pleased with.

Good afternoon!  (3:30)

back to the top…

Thursday April 16th 1931

Last Tuesday Daddy returned from a weekend which he spent down at Paignton – lucky beggar! He says everyone down there is quite fit, and that Noel has shaved his head because his hair was getting scarce at the sides, and now he has to go about with his head tied in a scarlet handkerchief like a gipsy! It was hard luck for Dad because he went down partly to see Auntie Isa and she wrote Dad a letter which we received the day after Dad left, saying that she and Carlo had gone up to London the previous Sunday as Carlos’s exam was getting close and he was going to have some coaching.

I knew Carlo wouldn’t work down in Paignton; he needs a stick or something to make him do it, and Auntie Isa is much too slack with him. It seems from Dad’s account that he has been flirting with all the girls in Paignton, and that one girl in Bristol boxed his ears – he kept that jolly quiet when he was up here! It is a rotten pity that he does that sort of thing, because he can be quite nice if he tries; perhaps more boys are like that in Italy. I doubt if he will pass the Matric even now.

Alan and I have been going out and doing things lately with Jean and her brother Ken(neth). Mary Biddulph came back from about a week’s holiday in the country and told Jean she did not like her going out with me so often, and that if she did she, Mary, would not be friends with her any more.

This was jolly awkward, not to say selfish, and has put Jean and me in rather a tangle. Jean and I both want to make it a threesome but Mary wants Jean to herself, it does not seem possible to arrange anything and it’s a jolly nuisance because I like Jean awfully, and we are just getting to understand each other. I think it will be settled one way or the other by the time they come back from camp; they are both going tomorrow. Either Jean will not like Mary so much, or she will like her more after they have lived together in a tent for a week or so.

For the last week or so we – Alan, me, Jean, Ken – have been getting up at 5 o’clock and going scouting birds on the Downs before breakfast. It is good fun and I am quite used to getting up at that hour now, in fact I woke up without an alarm this morning. I don’t know whether we will keep it up while Jean is away at camp and Ken is working; we may go for a run before breakfast instead .

We know practically all the birds on the Downs by their appearance and song now.

We have been playing lots of hockey and cricket these hols.

Good afternoon! (4 o’clock)

back to the top…

Sunday May 17th 1931

We are back in the midst of school again now, and working hard – the exam is in two months time! To continue with last time’s instalment, which I have just been reading, I am afraid we have given up getting up at an early hour now, as it is not possible in term time.  Jean is just as much friends with me now as she has ever been, but has not stopped being friends with Mary either. I hope she will keep it up without there being any explosions!

During the last few days I have been having a great struggle with myself. It all started by Jean saying that she and her mother sometimes went to Tynedale Baptist Church in Whiteladies Road. I asked her to take me one Sunday, and we went accordingly. Lois Jenkins, who is in the choir (so are Beth Jenkins and Barbara Taylor) noticed us and asked us to come again. I did, and on Thursday last Lois asked me to come to a Missionary dinner down near the Horsefair. We went, and George Young, a missionary from China, came and talked with us. He was awfully nice, and told us about the life over there. That evening we went to a Great Young People’s Rally – a sort of climax of Missionary Week – and heard George Young, or Young George as he called himself, talk about his work, and another missionary talk about his work in the Congo. They both spoke very well, and they appealed for more missionaries, who are urgently needed in many places.

These things made me think, and I soon came to the conclusion that I wanted to be a missionary. It seems to me the best way of serving Jesus, because girls can do little at home in that line. The longer I think of it the more certain I become that that is what I was meant to do – I do not like modern ways; dancing, making up, and all the petty deceptions and insincerity of modern life. I do not like town life, and am healthy and strong. I feel that I really can do good to the world and the cause of God that way, and what’s the use of living if you cannot do that?

The only thing that worries me is that since we have gone back to school Jean and I have had a talk to Miss Allen about taking up botany – of course this was before I thought of the missionary life – and she is very keen on our doing it. She has great plans about scholarships, college, and Kew Gardens or something like that, and since I have been getting on rather well at Botany lately she has been rather pleased with me.

The sudden changes of outlook from History to Botany and then to Missionary work have made me rather distrustful of myself; but I really do believe that the present idea is going to be a lasting – life-lasting – one, and I could not change back to Botany now I have thought of the other possibility. It would be impossible to devote my life to the knowledge of plants when I knew all the time I might have been winning hearts for Jesus. The real, vital part of life is the spiritual side, but as the wordly side is the tangible, obvious side we are inclined to think only or chiefly of things we see and understand, so we miss the real vital part. Now I am trying to get to know and love God more, and although I have only advanced a tiny way I know enough not to get the relative importances mixed up again. The spiritual world is very vast, wonderful and joyful and peaceful, and I want to live in it as many of the preachers I have heard do – you can see it.

I have not mentioned any of this to anyone, but I will tell Mummy soon. I want to be absolutely sure of myself first. God guide me.

Goodnight!

back to the top…

Wednesday June 20th 1931

Last Thursday Jean and I had an adventure. We had had cricket at the field and were coming home together on our bikes when Jean suddenly remembered that she had not brought her history atlas home for revision (the history test paper was the next day.) I had not remembered mine either, for we seldom use history atlases, so we decided to go straight to school and fetch them. It was then 7 o’clock, and you are not allowed to go into any classroom after 4:30, but we had to get them, so we went. By a great stroke of luck (as we thought at the time) the cloak-room door was open so we stole in, up the stairs, round by the front hall, along the new wing and into the Cert. class room. We got the books alright, and came back again.

But alas! the cloakroom door was locked and the key had been taken. We wandered around the building, trying the doors by the halls, the dining room, and the front door, but they were all locked. The key was in the front door, but that was no use as we would not have been able to lock it again. We enjoyed the joke immensely, and pretended we were burglars, but all the same we were a little funky of going down the back stairs to relate our misdeeds to Miss Bride, who lives there. At last, however, since there was nothing else to do we went down, and, thank goodness!, met one of the maids, not Miss Bride. She was a bit angry and made us promise to tell Miss Wilson in the morning. She then let us out. We told Miss Wilson, and she smiled to herself, but not to us! She said ‘that it must never occur again’ etc., and next time we forgot a book we must manage without it, or obtain leave to get it from Miss Brown or Cog who live next door to school. I think we got off very lightly . Cog would not have been so lenient; it was only because Miss Wilson is new.

A little while ago Elizabeth Bird, Ursula Biggs-Davison and I went to Berkley Square, obtained permission from the Archdeacon of Bristol (!) and rubbed two brasses in the Temple church down in Bristol. I am afraid that the rubbings were not very successful, and holes seemed to appear as if by magic (though we did rub hard). It is quite good fun, and Miss Thomas has promised to take us to do one outside Bristol some time this term.

Last Saturday was Rose Day and we had a fine time. Unfortunately it was showery and we had to have tea in the hall. We decorated our class-room with red may, but it was not quite as nice as we thought it was going to be. Mary Brokenbrow played a ‘cello solo in the afternoon and two in the evening; she is only in Va and yet she plays marvellously. She has won gold medals etc. galore.

Jim has gone off on his fortnight’s holiday. He is going a hike of the West, and is writing an article about his progress every other day or so for the Evening Times. The paper is either paying his expenses or else paying for his articles; anyhow, since he does not mind writing the articles, he is getting a fine holiday for practically nothing.

Daddy is now in London where he has gone to show his latest game to the buyers at the stores. I don’t know how he is getting on yet. He is staying with Auntie Isa and Carlo, who were going back to Italy today but have decided to stay a little longer and have Carlo’s tonsils removed.

By the way, Carlo did get through the special Matric he was having a second shot at. It was jolly good and certainly rather unexpected as far as I am concerned. He said himself, however, that Italians are famous for last-minute cramming.

11:10 o’clock so Good-night.

back to the top…

Friday July 10th 1931

Today a great event took place! We, the Certificate form, beat VI b in a form match. VI b had beaten VI a before, so we can beat both the sixth forms! It was a truly exciting match, which we did not expect to win at all. We got them all out for 37 (I took 5 wickets for 20 runs) and then we went in. I went in first with Frances Webb. I made 4, she made 8, and then we were all skittled out until the score was 24 for nine wickets. None of us thought we could possibly win as the last people had only made about 1 or 2 each. But we begged the last person to be careful, and hoped for the best. They played awfully carefully, but hit all the easy balls, and managed to steal so many runs that we began to get some hope of victory. Every single was loudly applauded and ‘hurrahed’. You should have heard what a noise we made when we were equal; and when we won, the noise was even worse. It was terrible waiting and expecting one of their wickets to go flying at any moment, because they were only the very tail-end you know, and not expected to make many, if any. They certainly received a great welcome from us when they did come out. Our final score was 41 – one of them was clean bowled in the over after they had won the match.

Yesterday was also a red-letter day. The French Club play took place in the Hall. I was Francet – not a very important part. Instead of being terribly nervous I enjoyed it thoroughly and it was quite a success. The making up was awful, and made you feel ever so hot; so did the farandole[1]!

Tomorrow the first, second, and colts teams are going to Cheltenham via a charabanc. We will depart at 12:15 and not get back until about 8:00 pm. I am playing for the second.

On Monday next, the 13th, the School Certificate Exam. begins, and I am beginning to get panicky. It will soon be over, thank goodness!, but I do want to do well, and yet I’m afraid I won’t. It will seem funny reading this when it is all over and I know exactly how I did!

I have told Mum and Dad that I want to be a missionary and they don’t mind at all, but think it very good if I really want to. Cog has been asking people what they were going to be when they leave school, and I have said I would like to be a missionary in China or somewhere. She said that her sister was one out there, and when she came down she would ask her to talk to me about it. Jolly nice of her, wasn’t it? Miss Allen still wants me to do science; I shall have to break the news to her gently; I’m afraid she will be rather disappointed.

Mary Biddulph has been rather ill, and has not been to school for 3 weeks or so, I don’t know how she will get on with the exam. It’s rotten luck for her.

10:30! Good-night!

back to the top…

Thursday July 23rd 1931

Well, the great exam finished at six o’clock as far as I am concerned. Poor old Mary and Alan still have one more exam. What a relief! I have been working pretty hard the last week or two and have had a perpetual headache. but I will be able to slack off and get rid of it now.

It’s very funny that last time I wrote in here the exam was a black cloud gathering on the horizon.Now the storm is just passing over. I wonder if the sun will have appeared by the next time I write!

It will be rather funny to say what I think of the papers before I know my marks. Here goes :-

English. Books = horrid; essay = not bad; précis = quite nice

French. comp & story = not bad; unseen = not very nice

Latin. grammar = quite nice; unseens = horrid

History. English = not very nice; European = nice

Maths. 1st = quite nice 2nd = horrid 3rd = not bad

Botany. A = not very nice; B = nice

I have ben calculating about how I have done and I think it even chances between my getting matric: exemption and not. I’m afraid it is not very likely.

A week ago last Saturday, I played for the 2nd eleven cricket team against Cheltenham. They had six or seven subs. playing because somebody had German measles or something. Even then they beat us, though not by much. Our first beat theirs though.

Both Nora Storey and I made 36 runs, and we both got our second colours. I was so bucked! 2nd colours means a red and white hat band, which is different from everyone else’s. I have always longed to have one and now I have. The only snag is that I cannot see it while I am wearing it!

We were going to play the finals of the form cricket matches against V a tomorrow. We beat VI b  by two or three runs; I have never played such an exciting game before. I hope we win, we certainly ought to.

I feel a bit guilty because I had been asked to dive for the school in the great inter-schools challenge shield match today. It was at 6 o’clock and the Botany exam was from 4-6 o’clock.

So I told Riva that I could not, as I had an exam, so she got somebody else. They did not dive very well, and at lunch Dad said that perhaps if I had gone straight down to the baths after Botany, and if the diving had not been at the beginning I should have been in time. It was too late to tell Riva then, and I had not thought of it before, but now when I heard that we did not do awfully well in the diving (we were 3rd) I feel a bit guilty. I hope it does not matter much, anyway I would have made a bosh of it I expect.

We were 3rd altogether, which was not bad, but we wanted to keep the shield.

There is some Tennis fixed for the hols. The first match is on Friday (tomorrow) week and we will play on Eberle’s court and they will provide us with lunch. I’m afraid it’s going to be too social!

Oh! . . . .  Good-night!

back to the top…

Friday November 6th 1931

It is a long time since I wrote in this diary, and now the results have been out for a long time – of the examination I mean.

Results:  English, Botany, Latin, French, History, Maths, I got a credit.

Drawing: I did not (I did not expect to anyway).

So I got a credit in all six subjects and therefore also got my Matriculation Exemption.

We are now in the midst of hockey and netball. I don’t seem to be able to get on any further with those games – I am still in the third eleven for hockey and the fourth seven for netball. I have got my third hockey colours, but I’m not satisfied and want to get into the 2nd or 1st.

At school, life is very different. I’m not sure whether it is for the better or worse. Half-in-half, I think. I no longer do any French, History, Maths, Latin , and only 3/4 hour a week of English. All I do is Science, Science, Science! It is jolly nice except for the Chemistry, which is awfully difficult and we are supposed to know everything we are told about or read about, and at that rate I ought to know about thirty pages of notes and more still of the book now. As they are just composed of lists of facts and formulae which have no rhyme or reason, but just have to be learnt like a parrot, I’m not getting on very well! But I expect that Jean and I will get to understand and be able to remember the Chemistry one day.

Jean and I are ‘bottle washers’  i.e. we look after and ‘do’ the labs. Jean’s mother has been ill lately and so I had to do them alone, and in consequence have had to leave school at a quarter-to-two, go home, have lunch and be back by five-past-two! As a result my dinner only takes me from 5 to 10 minutes now!

Now it is half term or I would not have the time to write; there is not a free moment in term time. As a treat Dad and Mum and I went to see “Trader Horn”[2] a film, at the Regent. It was simply wonderful, and showed many really marvellous photos of lions, leopards, elephants, giraffes and hundreds of other animals. The scenery was superb, and the natives were very curious. A film like that is really well worth seeing and it gives you a little insight into life in Africa, and takes your mind away from the petty everyday things that always seem so big.

But somehow it also makes me a bit restless. I find it more difficult to continue this humdrum civilised existence in peace and quiet, when I know that men and women are living like that in Africa. It certainly gave me a bit of a bump coming out into the usual drizzle and damp and crowded bustle after seeing a film like that.

It’s awfully silly, but whatever you are, you would always like to be something or somebody else! Human nature I suppose; all our failings are summed up in those two useful words, and it’s very comforting!

Tomorrow, in order that it may be a really dissipated half term Dad, Mum and I are going to the Hippodrome to see ‘It’s a Boy’ which is supposed to be very funny; it certainly sounds as if it might be.

Perhaps I have not mentioned before that the reason for my doing science now is that I am going to be a medical missionary, or at least that is the latest so far, and certainly I believe it is the final decision. I am very ashamed of myself because I have been going to be, at different times, a gym mistress, a History mistress, a missionary and a medical missionary.

On looking back I see I have left out a most important thing. In the summer holidays, Elizabeth Bird invited Jean and me to go and stay with her at a house let to them in Burnham-on-Sea. We both accepted and had a lovely time there – bathing and picnicking etc. Then almost the day after we came home (we cycled there and most of the way back), we all went for a fortnight’s camp near Ilfracombe at a little place called Saunton.

Mr & Mrs Butt took us and luggage down there, and then came back to fetch us at the end of the fortnight. We had a glorious time! I meant to copy our log in here, but I don’t know if I will be able to as it is rather long. It would certainly be worth it if I did though. I will try and see if it is possible.

back to the top…

Saturday December 5th 1931

It is nearly Christmas time again. How the years fly! Before I know what’s happened I shall be twenty-four or five, though I certainly cannot imagine myself at that age. I wonder if my life is going to be all that I am hoping and scheming now, or whether it will not be a useful one, and I will not feel staisfied when I am called to leave it .

I’m reading about Paul now both at home, school and Sunday school and he sets me a very glowing example. It helps me a great deal to read about him and what Jesus said about leaving everything for His sake. I love to think of myself as God’s servant here, with no will but to do His will. But I have not found the secret yet because, although I really feel my prayers and my reading, yet in my daily life God has very little or no part. I am trying hard to make this better, and am beginning to realise that you have to fight to resist ‘the world, the flesh and the devil and the pomps and vanities of this wicked world’. I’m afraid I am terribly bad and I sometimes feel an awful hypocrite because I sit and watch other people, even my own family, and think how lucky I am to know God better than they do, and I look down at their worldliness, sometimes, and I’m just as bad as any of them and much worse for thinking I am better. It is awfully difficult not to judge people as Paul said we must not. And of course we are not all in a position to judge fairly, only to upset other people’s notions by our own. And yet I find myself saying often ‘I don’t think ____ is much good at hockey (or something)  and probably anyhow she is much better than I am.

Yesterday the cadet rangers were invited to go and watch the dress rehearsal of the Senior Boarders’ Play, Daddy Longlegs[3]. It was better than I ever thought a school play could be. Jill Borrett (daughter of the famous Marie Studholme[4]) was the heroine and Meg Hutchinson was the hero. They were all awfully good. I had read the book, and that made it even more interesting, especially as it was a long time ago, and I had forgotten how it ended exactly.

Tomorrow I am going to tea with Miss Glover, the teacher of my class at Sunday school. Lois Jenkins was invited too, but she cannot come, so I am going into the dragon’s mouth alone!

Exams loom large on the horizon and I am beginning to get into a panic, for I don’t know anything! It will be a dreadful cram at the last minute, and I hate that.

Jean and I got our rewards (or wages) for doing the laboratories this term. I was staggered – we got £2-10-0 each! I am going to give 10/- to Alan, and I’m not sure about the rest yet!

Goo, I’m tired, Good-night!

back to the top…


[1]          (From Wikipedia) The farandole is an open-chain community dance popular in the County of Nice, France. The farandole bears similarities to the gavotte, jig, and tarantella. The carmagnole of the French Revolution is a derivative.

[2]          (from Wikipedia)

            Trader Horn is a 1931 American adventure film starring Harry Carey and Edwina Booth, and directed by W.S. Van Dyke. It is the first non-documentary film shot on location in Africa. The film is based on the book of the same name by trader and adventurer Alfred Aloysius Horn and tells of the adventures on safari in Africa.

[3]          Daddy Long-Legs is a 1912 epistolary novel by the American writer Jean Webster. It follows the protagonist, a young girl named Jerusha “Judy” Abbott, through her college years. She writes the letters to her benefactor, a rich man whom she has never seen. This book was Webster’s best-known work. It was made into a stage play and a 1952 British stage musical comedy called Love from Judy,[1] as well as films in 1919 (starring Mary Pickford), 1931 (starring Janet Gaynor and Warner Baxter), 1935 (a Shirley Temple adaptation called Curly Top) and a 1955 film, Daddy Long Legs (starring Fred Astaire and Leslie Caron). The latter two film versions departed considerably from the plot of the original novel.

            In Japan, Daddy-Long-Legs was made into a musical anime TV special in 1979 by Tatsunoko Productions, directed by Masakazu Higuchi of Superbook fame. The Tatsunoko TV special was released, dubbed in English, on home video in the United States.

[4]          Marie Studholme (1872 –  1930),was an English actress and singer known for her supporting and sometimes starring roles in Victorian and Edwardian musical comedy. Her attractive features made her one of the most popular postcard beauties of her day.

back to the top…

Categories
1930 diary Meg

Meg’s Diary 1930

by Margaret Taylor, age 15 years
Covers April 17th 1930

to

Saturday, November 25th, 1933

back to the top…

Thursday, April 17th 1930

I haven’t written in here for quite a long time, in fact I had quite forgotten that this book existed, but I unearthed it this morning as I was looking for a book with something I could draw in. So I thought that I ought to go on with it; therefore this.

It is now almost half past ten, and as ten o’clock is the official putting up time I don’t think I had better write any more tonight; besides ink is not the best thing to use in bed, I had better write before I come to bed tomorrow, I will have lots of time as it will be Good Friday, and so of course there will be no skating at The Glen and all the shops will be shut.

Good night, sleep well!

There is a great deal I would like to write and I expect I will have forgotten it all tomorrow, but it can’t be helped,

back to the top…

Friday, April 18th (Good Friday) 1930

Well, I have started again all safely. I was half afraid I should forget and not keep it up. Now it is about a quarter past seven, so there is still a quarter of half an hour before supper, and there is nothing to do except to read, and I have done quite enough of that! Nothing of any importance happened this morning, there being no skating, and even if there had been I am not sure that I should have gone as Alan has a cough and must stay indoors, and Lorraine might not be there, and it is not much fun if there is no one you know there.

So I filled up the time drawing, and afterwards I crayoned it, which rather spoilt it I’m afraid ’cause it looked quite nice before! While I was in the middle of this work of art O’Neil, a school-fellow of Alan’s, came to ask him to play in a scratch hockey match on the downs on Wednesday.  He asked me to come too, as some of the other boys were taking their sisters. Connie Becker will be playing too. It will be good fun, especially as I am playing in my usual place of left wing. Alan will be my inner!

This afternoon Jean came round with Jock and we went for a long walk over the Downs. We didn’t stay on the Downs but explored the country on the further side of them, and had a topping time; the only snag was that I arrived home at half past five instead of half past four for tea, and, as Mum said, was jolly lucky to find it still there (plus hot cross buns). I pitched into it (especially the buns) and Mummy at last gave me a gentle hint by passing me my tea that I always have when I have finished eating!

As we were going over the Downs Jean mentioned that she had not been keeping up her Scripture Union reading, and I told her I had forgotten it, too. She said what had reminded her of it was that Flee(?) and Audrey and Lois had all taken their Bibles to camp and read theirs every night, so we both resolved to begin again. I think it is dreadful to pretend you are a Christian and to pray every night and not take the trouble to find out anything about it from the Bible; we are both perfectly ignorant of the outline even of the life of Christ and the prophets and disciples.

Then we went on down a lane we explored yesterday, and looked at a little bird’s nest we had found before, but there were no eggs there and so we thought it must be a last year’s one, for Jean said they begin to lay directly the nest is built. A little further on we saw another bigger nest with a thrush sitting in it, so we could not go near it. Jean taught me the names of all the trees we passed, she seems to know all of them. Jock is a fine dog, although he fights rather. Jean says he is a bully because he fights dogs smaller than himself, but it would be rather difficult for him to find any bigger! I do wish we could have a dog, but Mum says we could not afford to keep one, although we could get one quite cheaply at the Battersea Dog’s Home, where she got Jock, and another dog called Peggy which they had before. Jean has also two cats, but I am not jealous of those like I am of Jock because I think a dog’s worth about ten or twelve cats. What partly makes me jealous is that when we are out together Jock will always stick to Jean and follow her everywhere and not take any notice of me!

 Well, the supper has made it’s entrée and I am going to have a bath tonight if I remember to put on the gas, so

Goodbye for a little while.

back to the top…

Saturday April 19th, 1930

There is not much to say today. This morning I went to the Glen, skating. Alan did not come owing to his cough, which is not quite well yet. Lorraine and Lo-Lo McArthur were there, and we had a fine time. I expected Yvonne, but she did not appear. This afternoon I nestled up near the fire, and settled down to read the afternoon through, but I soon got tired of the book, although it was a topping one, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain; who is jolly good, though I haven’t read many of his books. I was very glad when Jan arrived (plus the inevitable Jock) and lugged me out to go to Barbara Stratton’s to get a book. She was out, of course. It was rather late when we started, there being only half an hour or so before tea. I was a bit frightened it was farther than I thought, and I didn’t want to be late two days running; so I did the running on the way back, and luckily arrived back at twenty-five to five, and tea was just coming in! It is pouring now – it has been showering all through the day – so I have given up the idea of going to the library that I originally had.

Pat and I have just been having a drill lesson, which are rather few and far between. She started off jolly well, doing one, two and three steps forward march in grand style. Curtsy sitting is not possible for her on her toes, but she manages very well on the whole of her foot. She has mastered the left and right turns, as well as all the arm movements. Up to date she can 1) Read off any letters from hoardings and book titles (capitals). 2) Say her alphabet 3) Count up to sixty or seventy. Not bad!

She will have her fourth birthday on next Friday. Princess Elizabeth will have hers on Monday, so she beats Pat by four days!

I, and Alan, am looking forward to next term, the cricket one, with great enthusiasm, I think it is easily the best game going, and agree with the boy who said he didn’t mind whether he played Rugger or Soccer in the Winter because it was only to fill up the time between the cricket seasons!

There is a girl in my form at school called Marion Green, she is a scholarship girl, though goodness knows how she managed to get a scholarship! She seems to slack most of the term and swot for exams. She is always forgetting to give in her books, and does the wrong work and all that, so I resolved, while in bed, to help her, and give her a leg up in the remembering line, but I never had the courage to offer. Perhaps I will next term, I feel I ought to.  Good-bye

(I haven’t started the Scripture Union reading yet.)

back to the top…

Sunday, April 20th (Easter Sunday)

I have been looking through this book  and I noticed that I have left out several things of interest (to myself) that happened between the time I left off, and when I began again.

Last October I got leave off from school and went with Dad to the London Exhibition of Inventions. It was fine fun, although we did not do a great deal of business. We stayed at Uncle Harry[1]‘s and went down to the Central Hall every morning, and came back every night, by the Underground. Sometimes I came back alone, as the show did not close ’till ten, and I used to get rather fagged out. We lunched at restaurants and I liked it at first, but I soon longed for own home lunches, and not their fancy meals.

Also I see I was longing to go up to Miss Thomas’s farm. Well, I got my ambition, and its fine! The only thing is that most likely I will be going up again after next term!

I’m afraid I have rather blotched this page, my pen is running a bit too freely.

This morning , it being Easter Sunday, we presented Mum and Dad with a basket full of eggs. They were only penny ones, and there were three dozen of them – one dozen plain, one dozen cream, and one dozen whipped cream.

We tried a whipped cream one after lunch, but it tasted more like marshmallow! I hope the other kinds will be better. Mum and Dad gave each of us a lovely big egg, it will take us quite a time to get through them. I gave up sweets for Lent, and Mum noticed last week that my complexion was much better, it has always been rather spotty. By great thoughtlessness I said perhaps it was giving up sweets, to which Mum heartily agreed. She said it would be well worth while to give them up almost altogether, so there is rather a bad outlook that way for me now.

This afternoon I took Pat out to the Zoo, and we had a fine time. She was jolly interested in a baby monkey that was born a little while ago there, and is a sweet little chap, and very adventurous.  We also visited the chimpanzees and orang-utans, and saw them fed. That reminds me, Dad was at the Zoo the other day, and stopped at the chimps cage to shake hands, as he often does. While he was leaning over the bars to shake hands with one, the other swooped down from above and whisked his hat off. Dad went for the keeper, but it was no use and soon the hat was no more than a few rags.

I have been listening to a piano recital by Soloman, whoever he may be; he played mostly Chopin’s works, and two of someone else’s. It was lovely, and I was jolly sorry that we missed the first part of the recital. It is very funny, but when I really listen to music it seems that it is a story. Each piece is a tale, though sometimes it is very difficult for me to find out what it is. One of them seemed to represent a water pool in the jungle and big animals coming down to drink. Later a tiny little one, it sounded like an antelope, came and the big one chased him away. You could hear quite easily the little one with the big one chasing him, and you could hear him cry out, at least it sounded like it. The that was the end. I don’t expect it was meant to be that at all, but I like to think it was. I wish I could play like Soloman did, it will take years and years to learn, and even then I don’t expect I could. I think it is a shame for girls not to learn music at school, it seems as if a whole side of life was left out, I know it would be if I left it off I’m off to practice.

Good-bye.

back to the top…

Thursday, April 24th, 1930

I have had one of the most lovely, and wet, days today that I have ever had.

(Please excuse me (this is to myself) for using this awful pen, my other has run out, and I’m too lazy to refill it)

This morning, as usual, I went to the Rink, and nothing happened about that race I won yesterday, so perhaps they aren’t giving any prizes for these hols. Last hols they gave a holiday ticket to the winner, but as there will be no skating next hols they might not give anything. Yesterday Lo-lo McArthur, who is only a beginner, fell down and cracked her ankle under her. She said she had hurt her foot a bit, but it wasn’t bad. She looked a bit pale, and we noticed it at the time, but she kept on saying it wasn’t much. This afternoon I met Lorraine, and she said Lo-lo’s leg is dreadfully swollen, and her mother is afraid she has broken a small bone or something.

I have not been writing for a few days, so I have not said before that both Alan and Dad are in bed. Dad has a touch of malaria, and was very ill all yesterday, having a temperature of 103 degrees at night. Alan was about the same, but both were much better this morning. Poor old Alan has not used his five bob ticket for skating very much, and it expires on Saturday so he will not be able to go any more these hols, he will only just be fit again by the time he has to go back to school.

To get onto the great adventure – we (Jean and I) had arranged to meet at a quarter past two to go fishing for newts for a pond Jean had just made in her garden. Just as we were about to start Jean’s inner tubing of her bike went off pop, so we had to walk. We started about half past two, and got to the Suspension Bridge about 3. We met Lorraine there, and she told us of a pond at Abbot’s Leigh. We followed her instructions and arrived at a farmhouse. There was no pond in view, so we knocked on the farm door and were directed to a large pond where there were no small fish at all, only large ones, and they were no use, we couldn’t catch them, and anyway it said “No fishing, and Offenders will be Prosecuted”. It began to pour about then, so we decided to go home. We took a different path, and on the way we saw a topping little pond in a field. It also had a notice “Trespassers will be prosecuted” but we ventured on and after a long time managed to secure five newts, but four were ladies, so we let two of them go, and kept the gentleman and two ladies.While we were fishing a policeman rode by on his bicycle and saw us.

We were rather scared, but went on fishing and he went on slowly. We draggled home in the wet, singing to ourselves to keep ourselves cheerful, and arrived home about seven, dripping wet. We had been in the pouring rain ever since about four o’clock. Ugh!

back to the top…

Saturday, May 3rd, 1930

I have not written for quite a time lately. It has not been because there has been nothing to write about – far from that! But I reckoned that if I wrote two pages every day and kept it up for five years or so I would use up three or four books, so I have decided to write about once a week instead.

That hockey match which was arranged for Wednesday took place on Saturday, and also we had another game on the next Thursday. It was jolly good fun. I gathered a few girls together for cricket on Friday and Saturday (today) mornings, which was enjoyed by all. It was good practice so that we should not go back to school utterly unprepared.

I have been going out with Yvonne a lot lately, and think she is very nice. I will keep her as a friend if I can.

I have been to Blaise Woods two or three times lately, and it is easily better than Leigh Woods, but a little further away. It takes about twenty minutes on an bike. Last time I went with Yvonne and Alan we took Pat, and also our lunch. I have never seen Pat eat such a big lunch, no wonder she was too tired to walk when we got home! Yesterday I went to tea with Yvonne and we were left in charge of a little baby of two who lives in the flat below the Stoddards. She was a sweet little thing; and could understand everything you said although she could not speak much. I tried to remember what Pat was like when she was two, but I could not remember very well. It is funny how soon one forgets things. There are one or two instances which I can remember, and the rest of my infancy is a pure blank. For example, I can remember nothing about my life before we lived in Lancashire near Barrow, and the daffodil field there: even that is very vague, yet the one thing which sticks in my memory, and Alan’s, is when the Armistice was signed, and the war was ended. The maid and our nurses came into our bedroom and woke us all up. They turned somersaults on the floor, and I remember distinctly that Nurse did a crooked one and bumped into the wardrobe. But mummy says that all happened before we went to Lancashire. It is awfully funny how everything is forgotten except that one thing. I wonder if I will read this book to remind me of how I used to live when I was fifteen!

After cricket this morning we were talking about dying (I don’t know how the subject got started I’m sure). I said I was not afraid to die, and would not mind doing it tomorrow; and I wouldn’t either. They seem all to be afraid to die somehow. But what I am sure about is that each one of us has to do his or her bit of good before they do die; and I’m going to make mine a good big bit. I think you would meet your friends after death, but as everyone is friends there in my belief it would not really matter if you hadn’t got many. I also think (I may quite possibly change my opinion before I do die) that there are many stages of life, even if they are not on a separate world, and you have to work your way up or down the scale according to your conduct. Whether this world is near the top or the bottom I don’t know, but I should think it is more likely to be the bottom!

Supper has interrupted this muse, I shall have to descend to this earth again, to satisfy the base internal cravings!

Good-bye.

back to the top…

Monday, August 11th 1930

It really is dreadful how inconsistent I am (what grammar!) I really believed that I would keep up this book regularly and now I have let it slip for more than three months. Shocking.

Now it is holidays, an on Monday next (a week today) we are all due down at Paignton at Auntie Laura’s[2] house for a fortnight’s stay. Alan and I are going to start on Sunday and cycle down, putting up at a wayside place for Sunday night and so making a two day journey of it. Jim, who has set his heart on a motor bike, and who will most likely get it within the week, wants to visit Bournemouth, and a friend of his there, on the way. At least it is not on the way, but he wants to go there and then got staright to Paignton.

I have made a resolution, one of many I’m afraid, to write this diary every Saturday, and also not to forget it.

Jim has now left school for good, and will start his newspaper job early in September if there is still a vacancy for him. I am dreading the thought of leaving school; it was partly that that made me want to be a gym mistress, and now I have dropped that idea because there are so many better people in that job. But, because I love school so, and also because it interests me I now propose to take up history, and possibly go to Oxford or Cambridge if I can only get a scholarship. But they are so hard to get, and if I didn’t I don’t think Mum and Dad could afford to pay the fees as they are so enormous. Perhaps we will have made our fortunes out of one of Dad’s games by the time I leave! 10 o’clock so Good-night.

back to the top…

Wednesday, August 20th 1930

I am now at Paignton, where we have a fortnight to spend for our summer hols. Alan and I cycled down here, starting at seven o’clock. We could have arrived in one day, but as we had arranged to do it in two we spent the night at a topping little place outside Exeter. We have arranged to go home in one day.

So far the weather has been very showery although the sun makes it quite warm. We have not had any bathing yet, but I hope we soon will. We hope to go mushrooming soon which will be great fun. Alan is awfully keen on fishing, but I hate it unless it is really needed for eating. Alan seems to like it just for the fun, but I don’t see much fun in killing animals if you need not. God made those fish, and most likely took just as much trouble over them as he did over us, so it hardly seems right to end their lives just for the fun of it. That seems an awful lust in many boys, and men I suppose; to kill for the love of killing. Every time it seems to me that a life is wasted because that animal, or any animal, could not have been made and given life just to be killed later. Dad says that it is nature, and so natural, but Nature can be improved, and everything that is natural is not good by any means.

Sometimes I think that it is wrong to kill animals to eat, and that I ought to become a vegetarian, but all animals feed on each other so perhaps it is all right, anyway it is different from killing for the sport.

We have finished supper now and it is still pouring with rain. I hope it will be fine tomorrow, although even if it is I will not be able to bathe as I have a cold and a nasty cough, but I expect they will be better soon and then I will be able to.

Hilda visited us last evening, she hoped to see Pat, but she was in bed. She said she might come again today, but she has not come yet, and as it is now nearly half past eight I don’t expect she will be coming. I like Hilda awfully,and I want to get to know her better than I do now.

Dad and I went down to see Uncle Ned and Auntie Ethel[3] yesterday, and we also saw Jack, but Joan was out, so I could not see her. I should have liked to see her because I have not seen her for about seven or eight years.

There is tons more to write but I cannot go on for ever so –

Good-night!

back to the top…

Friday, August 22nd 1930 
(Seafield House, Waterside, Paignton.)

We have spent almost the whole day on the beach today. It has been the first really fine day we have had so far. We all went to Granny’s Arm Chair and then over the rocks to Broad Sands. These sands are lovely, and have tons of sands; I think I like them better than the Goodrington Sands because they are more deserted. We originally went with the intention of prawning, but the pools did not seem to have many, and we came home with only four. They turned up at supper, but they were so lifelike that I could not eat one, although I said it was because I did not like them.

We had lunch down there, and came home for tea rather late, so we were made to wait ’till supper, which was fine, being hot meat pie, and plums; a supper well worth missing tea for.

After tea, or rather tea-time, I went to Paignton to get some fruit for Mum and cigs for Dad. Jim sometimes smokes now, he tried a pipe but soon gave it up.

It was in the news today that the Duchess of York has had another baby, another girl; which is rotten luck for her, because if it had been a boy he would have been the third heir to the throne.

I have promised to have a go at the lawn mower so I must go now before it gets dark.

Good night.

back to the top…

Wednesday, August 27th 1930

We have spent the whole day on the beach, or rather beaches, for there are so many beaches next to each other that we often go from one to the other.

The other day Mrs. Mudge arranged a picnic at Mansands, and we had a lovely time, but there were about seven or eight foreigners who seemed to have invited themselves, and they rather spoilt it. Afterwards, after supper, they all turned up and we all had a game of shove-halfpenny. Before I saw them, and they were in the drawing room, I said that I did not like them, and Auntie Laura agreed that they were an awfully rowdy crew. When we started the game of shove-halfpenny I joined in, with Alan and Dad. They all got dreadfully excited, and yelled whenever anybody did a good or very bad shot. Soon they were shouting when anybody did any kind of shot. The funny thing was that I got excited too, and roared with the best of them; while five minutes ago I had been despising them. I am putting this down to remind myself if I read it again that it is jolly easy to get sort of caught up in a rowdy set of people, and just regard it as jolly good fun, whereas the spectators see how foolish it is and you will find yourself with tons of casual friends, but none who would really stick to you in a hole, or to whom you could absolutely confide. I therefore hope fervently that when I next read this (if I ever do) I will have no need to take heed from this warning.

I have been in my bathing costume for most of the last two days, and my back is as red and sore as it possibly could be, and gives me agonies every time I move my shoulders. My legs are sore too, though not nearly so bad.

The person who is suffering most though from sunburn js Jim. He has been wearing just shorts, with no top, so his back is sore right down to the waist.

After tea I went over to Grannie’s Arm Chair (sometimes called Devil’s Arm Chair) and met Mrs. Mudge and her daughter Nancy. I like Nancy awfully, she is just about my age, and a jolly sporting girl.

Dad and Jim and Reggie have been prawning a good deal lately, and I tried one day, and caught two, but did not eat any. That night I thought about it in bed and decided that I would not do any fishing at all these hols, and promised God I would not, so I can’t now; and I’m jolly glad because although it pleased half of me to chase and catch prawns, the other half was telling me how cruel and wrong it was. I did not promise never to fish again, because possibly I might some time, and it would be absolutely dreadful to break a promise to God, who has made so many wonderful promises to us.

I am awfully tired and sore and need a good night’s rest so:-

Goodnight!

back to the top…

Wednesday, September 3rd 1930

It has been just a week since I wrote in here last, but what a change that week has been! We are now at home again in Bristol, home at the smokey, cooped-up town of Bristol. Last week we were in a big house in the country with miles of open country all around us, and a lovely big garden full of animals and interesting things. Whew! I want to blow all Bristol right away and just leave us here alone. I do not think I have ever enjoyed a holiday so much, it is just my ideal home at Paignton, and it seems to have made quite a hole inside me to have left it all behind. I expect it is the contrast which makes me feel so strongly. The funny part is that the others were all glad to be home again!

We made a fine party down there,and certainly had some fine fun, but the part I miss most was the life I had a taste of during the last few days. I thought I wold go and see what Noel was like because he was always busy with his pigs, and could not see us much. So I helped him to feed the pigs about three times a day,and we talked together at the top of the garden where the pigs live. The more I saw of Noel the more I liked him, and that is partly why I miss it so much because we liked the same things, and now there is nobody I can talk to in the same way. He is going to have a farm for his own this month, and I asked him to write and tell me about it, but I don’t expect he will, because farmers and people like that never seem to like writing letters.

Well, I fed the pigs, carted the barrow about, mixed the food, helped to cut the lawn and fed the guinea pigs and rabbits, and in short enjoyed myself mucj more like that than going down to the beach and bathing.

I expect that is why the others  do not miss it so much because they did not enter into the life of the place. They do not like Noel so much because they thought he should have come and joined in picnics and that with us, but I know that I would rather have stayed behind with the pigs and done things in the garden. He does not like to go in crowds, but he is awfully jolly all the same, and makes such funny attitudes sometimes. Well, I thought when I came home that gardening was the next best thing so that is now going strong. There! I’ve grumbled enough!

Good-night.

back to the top…

Sunday, November 23rd 1930

It is jolly funny because when I wrote in here last time, and said I missed Paignton I had no idea that I would ever go there agin, although I had hoped that possibly we should go and spend our next summer hols there. Well about three weeks ago, the beginning of November, was half term, and since I had been working pretty hard (you have to in the Cert.) I had got a bittired, and Dad suddenly mentioned at tea on Friday that it would do me good to have a change, as it was half term. He suggested I should go to London, but I wasn’t keen. Then he thought of Paignton. Goodness! I was almost bowled over. There was I, longing to see Paignton againand yet not dreaming that I should have the chance for ages,a nd then, all in five minutes I had the chance. That was Luck if you like! You canimagine I did not have to think twice about it. But you see that was Friday tea-time and the half-term holiday was over by Tuesday morning, so there was no time to spare. Dad sent a telegram, at about half past six asking if Auntie Laura could put me up. We received a ‘Right-O’ telegram in reply by seven thirty, wich was jolly lucky because telegram offices close at eight. I departed from Bristol at the early hour of 8:41 and arrived at Paignton at about 12:30. Uncle Ned[4] was there to meet me, though I did not expect him. He is awfully kind-hearted, and looked quite distressed when I said I thought that I should bus up to Seafield House alone. Another instance of his kindness was that he bought me a bag of toffees, which I could not refuse although they are not good for me. Anyrate they went soon enough when handed round! Most of my time while I was there was spent either feeding the pigs and poultry, or watching them eat their meals.

Noel and I would mix their food. I got quite expert on food, and could do either the pigs’ or fowls’ without Noel’s help, and we carted it up, at least Noel carted it up, and I carted it back (it was lighter coming back). Then, the terrible task of keeping the sow off while the others were fed, having been accomplished, we stood in the sty and watched them eat, or rather gobble. I could have watched all day, and I know Noel could, but he had tons of other things to do just then because all the things had to be got ready for his new farm, where he will be entering into possession soon. One morning I went with Uncle Bud and Noel to see his farm, or a bit of it. It will be thirty-five (I think) acres, and Noel is going to try to manage it all by himself. I think it will be jolly good if he does. Uncle and Noel are, or were when I was down there, setting up a hut for Noel to live in when he settles down there. I learnt from a letter Reggie wrote to Dad that they are setting up a fowl house.

That reminds me that another occupation was running down hens, so that Noel could catch them and put them in the fowl house, because there was not enough food for them outside in winter time. I remember when we had caught a white cock which Noel was going to sell, there were some brown feathers on it, which he pulled out because it would sell better if it was pure white.

He said that it did not hurt much, and yet the poor thing was squalking every time he pulled, still it was decent of him to try to make me think it did not hurt it. Another thing he did which shows he is not so thoughtless as most boys is that one evening after the tea had been taken to the pigs (it was dark by then, and we had to have a candle) Noel asked me if I was afraid of rats, and when I said No he said that when we had been in the sty he saw a rat just by my feet only he had not told me because he did not know if I was afraid of them (only he said ‘did not like’).

The ground by the houses was an absolute marsh, so I borrowed Mary’s wellingtons and had a fine time splashing about. I wore them when I went up to the farm too because it was raining most of the time I was down there. But I rather like the rain if you are dressed for it, and I loved squelching along those little country lanes with a tearing wind whistling through my hair. I can enjoy it all over again as I write it!

They have a  jolly little whippet called Jill, who had just arrived a few days before I did, and I should have liked to see her race. I feel sure she would have almost flown, she was so light. On Sunday Uncle Ned and family came and we had a regular full house. I felt like Noel, pleased to get out into the quiet of a wet evening and squelch up to the pigs in the pitch dark. I am hoping to get a letter from Noel one day to show he haas not forgotten me, and I am jolly sure it will be ages before I ever forget my visit down there although it only lasted two days.

back to the top…

Monday, November 24th 1930

I really thought that I had said everything about my stay in Paignton when I stopped last night. But just now when I read it through I saw that I had hardly mentioned Uncle or Auntie or Levitt or Reggie or Mary, only Noel and me, but as we were together (+ pigs) most of the time it’s not surprising.

But when I read this (?) many years hence it would be nice to hear about them, because perhaps I shall not see them all agin for years, perhaps even longer. Auntie Laura is very funny. She is very kind and jolly, but she does not seem to have much of a brain, or be able to tell what is rather ‘not done’ and what is aboveboard, e’g’ she told us all, frankly and innocently, that she always used to eat the best prawns when a lodger gave her his catch to cook!

Uncle Bud, who spends his life among vegetables and odd jobs in the garden, is just a grown up child – all simpleness and kind-heartedness.

Mary, from what I saw of her, spends her free time, luckily she has not much, at balls, parties or the cinema. I pity her because I know how once you start that feeling of ‘gay life’ its jolly hard to stop.

Reggie, who is now about twenty-seven, seems a very handy person to have about. He can make anything you like to mention. It is funny but all sailors seem like that. He is a very nice boy, and rather quiet and reserved, but he can be angry if he wants to.

Levitt looks as if he is twelve at least, but is really nine. He is a very jolly boy, and full of spirits though rather delicate. He is keen on fishing and shooting, to which he goes with Reggie.

Noel needs no description, because I shan’t forget him. His whole life centres around his pigs and fowls. He is so fond of animals that he could stand and watch them all day. So he knows just what they do and seems to almost understand their feelings.

While I was there I saw that awful temptation that seems to come to all boys tried on Noel. There is another boy, or almost man, called Joe Hodder who is friends with Noel but who goes about the town much more. We were down in the basement washing after feeding the pigs, and Joe, who did not know I was down there, called down to Noel to ask him to come down to the town and ‘whet his whistle’. Noel said he would and then remarked to me that ‘those are the kind of people you have got to keep up with’. I said you need not keep up with them, and I hope he gives it up for good. That temptation came to Jim the other day, only this was much worse, because Jim drank much more, and instead of coming down to supper went straight to bed. It worried Mum awfully. But I don’t think he will do that again. Well! Even now I haven’t said about the birds, but I will tomorrow (if I don’t forget).  Goodnight.

back to the top…

Wednesday, November 26th 1930

I did not forget to write yesterday, but I got to bed so late that I had no time. Even tonight I should have put up and gone to sleep instead of doing this, but I do want to write. But I’m afraid that  I don’t get enough sleep now because prep keeps me going often until nine or half past and then I have to have supper and get to bed, and sometimes finish off prep in bed, and its quite often eleven before I turn off the light. Even then it takes another half hour to get to sleep. That is an awful nuisance. I cannot go to sleep at once however tired I am. Sometimes it is an hour before I get off, and then up again at a quarter to eight means I only get eight hours sleep, and it doesn’t seem enough for I get rotten headaches if I work hard for long.

Anyrate, I was going to tell you about the birds. I started feeding them because there are no pigs or things round here, and if I can’t look after some animals I shall get a perfectly dull uninteresting old fogey!

Last summer I had rigged up a shallow wooden box onto the top of a pole, so as to make a platform, only with sides. I started putting crumbs out, but did not keep it up for long. Now I have started it again, and I find it very good fun watching the birds enjoying their feeds. They are getting used to it quickly, and there have been six birds, including two starlings, on it at the same time. The starlings make it rock so that I think it will fall over any moment. There is a dear little robin which comes quite often, but it is much more shy than any of the others. I have put up two halves of a cocoanut, and the tits look so funny as they hang upside down to peck at them. Sometimes when I hear some bird singing I stop my prep to try and see it, which is very naughty, and only means I have to stay up later to finish, but its jolly hard not to, because some of them sing awfully nicely. The only bird I have seen singing lately is a starling, and they don’t sing very well.

Good-night.

back to the top…

Sunday, November 30th 1930

Dad’s game Viva-vol (?) is being demonstrated at Harrods, Army and Navy and Gamages this year, and so far has been doing rather well. But two of the demonstrators, Olive Vivian and her husband, have to stop on December 13th to go to a panto, and it will be rather difficult for Dad to find two more people to take their place. So he thought it would be a good idea for Jim and me to go up to London and carry on. Alan could not get off school. By the way I don’t believe that I said before that Jim is at home because he has to learn shorthand before they will take him on at the paper. Dad is going to write a letter for me to take to Miss Phillips (commonly known as Pips) asking her to let me off from school on the 12th of December, instead of the 18th. That would mean missing three days of exams, but as they are rather important in the Certificate form I am going to see if I can start exams three days earlier than the others; that will mean beginning on Wednesday: Oh dear!

If we do go up, and I expect we will, we will either stay with Auntie Isa and Carlo or Uncle Ern, for Dad cannot spare the time to come too. It will be great fun if we do go, and we must see if we can break all records made last year for sales. We will have the best time – Christmas week.

My fate will be decided tomorrow, and I will write what it is then.

(How funny to read this later, when I know what happened ‘tomorrow’! Time is a funny old thing!)

Goodnight.

back to the top…

Tuesday, December 2nd 1930

 I did not write yesterday, because I did not know whether I would go or not. Miss Phillips had to have ‘time to think it over’. I went to her again this morning and she gave me permission to go (perhaps it was partly because she was feeling ahppy about her birthday, which happens to be today). The only snag is about the exams. Miss Garnet (C.O.Y.) said she could not allow me to start exams until Tuesday next, when all the others begin theirs, but I can make up those I shall miss in the afternoons. It may not be possible to do all of them, but I shall be doing about four exams a day for a week any rate!

Another good piece of news is that I am going to play for the second against the university tomorrow. I am only ‘subbing’ for Mary MacKenzie who has cracked her ankle, but I am jolly lucky to get a chance. This will only be the second time I have played in the second, but I have got my third colours.

The only snag (there is a snag in this too) is that I shall be playing left inner, a position I have played in only once before! I must play up, and see if I cannot get them to book me as a permanent fixture in the second! Not much hope of that awhile yet.

Jim is going on Christmas Day to stay for a day or two with a friend in Devon. I would hate to go away for Christmas personally, it seems such a homely sort of festivity. We will run it rather close though, for we will come back from London on Christmas Eve. Dad has invited Auntie Sylvia and Uncle Futadown for Christmas, and also Uncle Ern. If Uncle Ern can get off it is quite likely he will come down with us on Christmas Eve. If they all come we will have to sleep on the floor or something, but it will be a jolly party.

Good-night.

back to the top…

Monday, December 15th 1930

I (+ Jim) am now in London. This town is the great capital of England, and it looks like it! There is not one inch of room anywhere. I hate it. It is, as I wrote to Mum, 50% noise, and has given me an everlasting headache. Everybody seems to be in an eternal hurry, and have no time for anything.

This morning we presented ourselves at the Army and Navy, and had great excursions to find the staff cloak rooms. I am not sure yet how to get to the women’s, but I do know that it is hidden away in the bowels of the earth somewhere.

I suppose it would not be so bad when you got used to it, but I should hate to live in London. We really must ring up Putney and enquire how Auntie Edith is after her operation for appendicitis. We must also write to Uncle Ern and see if he will be able to get away to be able to spend Christmas with us at Bristol.

Well, I will tell you the first days sales:-

  • 12 sets Vivavol
  • 1 set Stickles
  • Umpteen balls for Vivavol

I am jolly tired now, and only hope I will not be too stiff in the morning.

(I can’t help wishing that I was at Paignton  rather than London; they are the two extremes of ideal and rotten existence).

Goodnight.

back to the top…

Tuesday, December 16th 1930

Today’s sales come first:-

  • 7 Vivavols and
  • About six or seven balls.

This is not as good as yesterday, which is a great pity, but rather there were not so many people there today.

I managed to get to the women’s cloak room after asking about six different people; it is an absolute maze down there, and I feel just like Alice in Wonderland when I am wandering about down there. We are slowly getting used to the place and beginning to know it; I suppose we will have just learnt where everything is by the time we go home again. For meals we have to go to the staff canteen. It’s a very funny proceeding having lunch. Outside the canteen is a cashier who gives you tickets 1d, 2d, 3d etc. if you give her the money equivalent. You then line up and say what you want, pay for it by a ticket and dig a spoon, fork and knife from a box, and march away with all this in tow, and hide yourself as far away as possible and eat it. It is not very nice because Jim and I are in whites and all the other assistants wear black, therefore we are rather conspicuous and get stared at – which I hate. I spent exactly 9d  for dinner yesterday and  8today, and the food is jolly good. That’s not bad, is it?

The worst part about this is that you get terribly stiff legs because you are standing all the time, I am so tired when I get back here that I only want to sit down and rest my legs. Jim and I had supper alone tonight, and of course the milk boiled over, and the saucepan and kettle both leak terribly. Auntie and Carlo have both gone out to a dance and will not be back until about one o’clock. Auntie was shocked when I told her I did not like going out in the evening. I would a hundred times rather stay at home by the fire, or go for a walk in the country or feed pigs! I think dancing is really stupid, and if somebody from the moon or somewhere came here and saw all the people dancing in great halls, with jazz music making the most foul din, he would most certainly think the people on the Earth were madmen.

There is something in me which hates towns, hates crowds and noise. I sometimes have a terrible yearning to get away into the quiet, the country where everything is fresh and green, and everything there is made by God and not by man.

What a silly little fool I am! But I can’t help it, it is in me and must come out sometime.

Good night.

back to the top…

Wednesday, December 17th 1930

Today we sold

  • 7 sets and
  • 1 Stickles

It was not as good as we had hoped, but is just as good as the other demonstrators used to do. Tonight we went to a Topical Cinema and enjoyed it quite well. There was one very good film like a Mickey Mouse but everything was done to music. I wrote to Uncle Ern, Mum and Dad, and Jean to get my exam marks, but only posted Mum and Dad’s and Jean’s because Auntie Isa had not enough stamps.

It is twelve o’clock and I’m jolly tired so

Good-night.

back to the top…

Thursday, December 18th 1930

Today the sales were much better – we sold

  • 12 small and
  • 2 large sets.

I am afraid it was a good day and we will not be able to do it every day.

Jim has gone out to a show with a friend who he met yesterday. He left me at Charing Cross to come home alone. I don’t mind coming home alone but I do mind being treated like a person of no account and told to ‘buzz off home while I go out with a friend’ sort of thing. Jim is rather like that – a bit selfish , but I expect he will get out of it in time.

Goodnight.

back to the top…

Friday, December 19th 1930

Today we sold six small sets and three big ones. We are running out of stock, and I don’t know what will happen if we do not get any more before Monday. We have only three or four small sets left, and no balls at all.

I am jolly tired tonight and I am going straight to bed now. Jim and Carlo have gone out to a cinema, and Auntie Isa has gone out to a hospital entertainment; so I am alone. Carlo has just sent off a present to ‘his girl’. He wanted me to promise not to tell Auntie. Of course I did so, but I certainly think no better of him for doing that kind of thing. The worst of it is keeping  it secret from his own mother. That is why I do not like going into ‘society’ for you always seem to be caught up into these beginnings of a really bad character.

It rather worries me because we seem to be using such a lot of money. We will have to ask for some more. In fact Jim said so when he wrote home tonight. I only hope that Mum and Dad did not think that what they had given us would be enough for all the time. Anyway we have not been at all extravagant, and another consolation is that we are gaining money for the family all the time.

I am eagerly awaiting my report, but I don’t expect my exam marks will be good because I did the exams in such a rush. Anyrate they will not be like Carlo’s I hope. He failed in all 4 subjects.  But of course being Italian, or practically all Italian it was terribly difficult for him.

I must go to bed.

Goodnight.

back to the top…

Saturday, December 20th 1930

Today’s sales were not bad considering that we stopped at one o’clock as Staurday is a half-day in London. We cleaned up the whole of our stock of small ones by selling four of them. We also sold two big ones, making a grand total of half a dozen.

One of the large sets was sold to a master of the Clifton College Preparatory School. He gave us his card, so I know. Dad sent us a pound tonight and promised more on Monday, so we are all right as far as money goes. Talking of going, Auntie Isa left today for Colchester. She is going to the Bensusans for Christmas. Carlo is going up later, he is staying here with us until we go on Christmas Eve. Uncle Ern cannot come down to Bristol to us for Christmas so I will have to go down alone on Wednesday evening. I will have to travel jolly late because we do not knock off until 6:30 and it takes three hours to get to Bristol from here.

We are going to Auntie Sylvia’s tomorrow morning and then to Uncle Harry’s for tea and supper. That will be jolly good fun, and save us the money for meals.

Jim and Carlo have gone out to a play or somewhere, but I did not go. I don’t know if it is wrong or rude of me but I don’t like all these shows and town life. I prefer to stay at home and save the money, even if it is such a ‘home’ as we are staying in now.I hope they don’t think me ‘prim and proper’ but I do object to their saying ‘damn’. Carlo says it often and now Jim is copying him. I hate it and don’t see why they can’t say something else instead. I’ve got a headache. Goodnight.

back to the top…

Monday, December 22nd 1930

Yesterday we went first to Uncle Ern’s and took him out to lunch. He needed it, poor old uncle! Then we went on to Uncle futa’s and then had tea and supper with Uncle Harry. Auntie Edith, who has just had an operation for appendicitis is getting steadily better and improving wonderfully.

Today we did not get any more stock until 4 o’clock and in consequence the sales were poor – two small and three big sets.

Jim has gone to a show with that school friend of his, and so I am popping off to bed in a minute. Carlo went to Colchester at 5 today, so we are alone in the ‘palace’ now; or will be when Jim gets back!

I am jolly tired, I always am now-a-days!     Goodnight.

back to the top…

Saturday, December 27th 1930

I am back in Bristol now, thank goodness. I came back with Jim, who changed his plans at the last minute. Christmas is practically over now, alas. We all have had a very jolly time, and enjoyed ourselves immensely. Jim left on Boxing Day at 8 o’clock in the morning, and is not back yet. He will most likely come back tomorrow. It is jolly funny but Jim said he would prefer to spend Christmas in London rather than coming home. I can’t understand that, I think that of all things Christmas is a family festivity. He seems rather like that I am afraid – out for a good time, and not caring what happens as long as he gets it.

Alan and I had a jolly good match of hockey on the Downs, and will be getting another on Monday, and again on Friday.

Will write again very soon, it’s now 10:30 p.m.

Good night.

back to the top…

Sunday, December 28th 1930

Christmas is over now, except for a few lingering sweets and ginger wine, and presents of course!

We have had a record lot of Christmas cards this year I believe, and they look very festive all arranged on the drwing room mantlepiece. All the Taylors in Paignton sent cards, which was jolly nice and shows they had not forgotten us. Noel sent one, and I sent him a letter before I knew he had sent us a card. I wrote it in London, and posted it just before we left Paddington. I hope he will write to me some day, but I know he hates writing letters. It would help me to remember what he is like and what Paignton is like, though there is small likelihood of my forgetting either.

Tea-time.        Good-afternoon.

Sunday, December 28th 1930 (continued)

I have been reading a jolly good book of Jeffery Farnol’s, my favourite author. He has been my favourite for about four years now. He writes a great deal about the beauty of Kent and Surrey and the wonderful country land there. He is a pure simple-hearted writer, and is absolutely clean and open-hearted in his writings. His heroines are simple pure and innocent and his heroes clean straightforward mannish men. The whole atmosphere of his books, if fantastic, is pure beauty and goodness.

Anyrate in the one I am reading which Mum and Dad gave me for Christmas and which is called ‘The Quest of Youth’, it has a short passage which struck me as expressing my views about the town and country to a nicety. It is a coincidence that I have just returned from London.

She: Ay, but when we reach London, how then?

He: Plague me not with thought of teeming, roaring Babylon. We are in Arcady, God’s free gift to man. We walk with angels about us, spirits o’ the wilderness, sprites o’ the trees and rippling brooks. The birds are our choristers. Thus we, content with these solitudes and each other, should be happy.

When I was in London I said that it was crowded with no room anywhere, and now old J.F. Calls it ‘teeming’ and I also said it was 50% noise and old J.F. calls it ‘roaring’. Again, the next day I wrote that the city was made by Man, but the country by God, and dear old J.F. goes and calls the country ‘God’s free gift to man’. I am awfully glad somebody agrees with me. I only wish Noel was here, I’m sure he would understand and agree too.

back to the top…


[1]    Uncle Harry. Brother of Lilian (Mum’s mother) who lived in Putney

[2]    Auntie Laura. Wife of Uncle Bud, who was brother of Mum’s father Leslie. Children were Reggie, Noel, Mary, Levitt and Little Ned.

[3]    Uncle Ned and Auntie Ethel. Mum’s father’s (Leslie’s) brother and his wife. Lived in Paignton?

[4]    Uncle Ned – brother of Mum’s father Leslie. Wife Ethel, children Jack and Joan.

back to the top…

Categories
1929 diary Meg

Meg’s Diary 1929

PRIVATE
DIARY

Margaret Taylor, 12 Osborne Rd, Clifton, Bristol
Age 14 years
Begun Friday, July 20th 1929
Finished Saturday, November 25th, 1933

Friday, July 26th, 1929.

This new book was bought for me by Dad, he had said before that he would buy the book if I would write the diary.

There is only one more exam left now – geometry. It will need a lot of revision but I will have all the week-end to do it in.

I have one of the dolls that are given to anybody who will undertake to dress them. They are for the club children. There is lots of time as they need not be given in ’till the beginning of next term.

The third lost their match against The Colts which was truly awful. I made a duck, but retrieved my honour by taking three wickets. I don’t know for how many ’cause Vere King took the books home to work over.

Good-night.

back to the top…

Saturday, July 27th 1929

There is no time really to write tonight, it has just struck eleven. We have been listening to a revue on the wireless. It was very good – especially Mabel Constanduros, if that is how she spells her name.

I must not spend any more time now, for me have all arranged to go to the baths Kingsdown are open on Sundays, before breakfast tomorrow. Oh dear I wish I hadn’t said I would go, but I expect I will enjoy it when I get there.

Good-night.

.. back to the top …

Wednesday, July 31st 1929

We broke up yesterday, so, of course, it has been pelting off and on all day. Jim is not coming back for about a week because he has gone to camp with the O.T.C, at Tidworth where all the other public schools are camping together, there are thousands there. Jim is lucky, he won’t have much hard work to do as he is now a Lance-corporal.

I will buck up and get into bed and then get on.

Now I am ready again. Yesterday Suzanne Oliver came to tea, and we went to watch a tennis tournament in which she was playing the next day (today). We discovered she was playing that day after tea so she dashed home, changed, had tea with me, and was back again in time. She with Cherry Peter beat their opponents, both High School girls 6-2, 6-2 So they will be in the next round. I did quite well in the exams. Mary was by far the best – she had (out of the ten exams) eight firsts (over 70) and two seconds (over 50). I came next with six firsts, and four seconds. There was nobody else near us, I think. So I am quite sure of my remove next term. The form-mistresses are Miss Davidson and Miss Thomas. I don’t know Miss Davidson very well, she does look shapy though. I am longing to go into Miss Thomas’ form, she is really fine, the best mistress in the school.

Examination Results

History Grammar Literature Geography French Latin ScienceII II II II I I IAlgebra & Arith Geometry ScriptureI I I
Exam results

.. back to the top …

Monday, August 5th Bank Holiday 1929

I have been waiting until something really happened before I wrote here again, so now here you are! It began, I think, on the day that Ashman (a dreadful prig) came to take Alan for an afternoon on the river at Saltford. When he came back he was full of it, how lovely it was, and we ought to go.

He was so awfully keen on it we said we would go, on Saturday. Well Saturday looked very cloudy and rainy and so we put it off, Alan was mad about it.

After all it turned out quite a decent day, which made him worse. The next day we did set out although it did look cloudy again. Mum and I took our macs, and Pat’s, but Dad and Alan said they did not think it would rain. When we were nearly there, on our bikes, it began to fairly pelt, and we were forced to shelter because the men (if Alan can be included in ‘men’) where without macs. It looked as if it had come to stay, and after waiting, it must have been quite an hour, Dad said he would rummage round and see if anybody would look after our bikes while we bussed home. At last he managed it, some very posh people, with a fine garage, offered help, and Dad promised to call and collect them next day if it were fine. We arrived home very bedraggled and weary, and now Saltford is another name for the baths.

Today was quite fine, and so we decided we would have another go at the river while we were there. So we bagged the best part of the day by packing out tea, and leaving about half-past-eleven.

We collected the cycles on the way, and then went down to the river. It was absolutely fine, and no crowd at all, even though it was a Bank Holiday. We rested by a bank and had lunch, without anyone passing, and we weren’t quick. The scenery was beautiful, and there wasn’t much current. I rowed for most of the time, chiefly one oar, but for a short time with two. It is more than twice as tiring with two than with one.

My wrist is getting so tired I will have to stop, ‘though there is lots more I wanted to say. Never mind, tell it another time.

Good-night

.. back to the top …

Saturday August 10th 1929

I have ever so many things to write about that I had better start right at the beginning of the day and go onwards.

I am afraid there is nothing exciting, but everything is important (to me, now).

Firstly we (Dad, Alan and I) went to the open air baths before breakfast. It was lovely and warm. I stayed in much longer than either of the others.

Secondly I went with Mum (and of course, Pat) down to Bobby’s to see their new winter, or rather autumn, hats. There was not one small enough to fit Mums; not the right colour, so she is leaving it for a few days, as they will be having a lot more. I bought one, red, a lovely one, and I like it more than any other one I have had. Then we came back to Clifton and we bought a pair of nice light brown shoes, strap, for me again.

Thirdly Dad went with me to see The Cricket match, Gloucestershire versus Northants, at the College. They are very even, and I don’t know which will win. They have only just started, this being the first day.

Fourthly (and lastly, I believe) I saw a book of Jefferey Farnol’s* ‘Black Bartlemys Treasure’ in a stationary shop selling for 9d, as a surplus library book. I bought it, and so have realised a dream I have had for a long time, to own one of Jefferey Farnol’s books. He is easily my favourite author and has been for three or four years.

Ian may come next. There is no third.

Good-night

*John Jeffery Farnol (10 February 1878 – 9 August 1952), was an English author, known for his many romantic novels, some formulaic and set in the English Regency period, and swashbucklers.

.. back to the top …

Thursday, August 15th 1929

Dad and Alan came home today. Oh, I don’t think I even told you they went away, I’ll tell you (that’s me) now.

Dad went up to London to demonstrate the game to the buyers of the big stores, Barkers, Gamages, Selfridges, Harrods, and others, and he took Alan, as he is the most proficient, up to demonstrate with him. Harrods and Selfridges are most keen, and say it should go well at Christmas. The Kum-Bak people have offered Dad to manufacture them, and give him so much on each one they sell, and also a minimum so they will not be able to stop selling them. We don’t know whether to accept or refuse, but I should say accept.

Good-night

.. back to the top …

Monday, August 19th 1929

We (children) went to the pictures this evening. We saw the first talkie performed (of rather had) at the Triangle. I had never seen or heard one before, neither had Jim. Alan did when he was in London with Dad. It was ever so good, especially the plot. The talk was rather gramophoney, and not always clear. Alan said the one in London was much better. We all have headaches now through listening to it for so long.

A man (in the talkie) made a bet to speak only the truth for twenty-four hours, and he got in a dreadful mess by the end of it*.

I am awfully tired so-

Good-night

*Nothing But the Truth (1929) is a sound comedy film starring Richard Dix. The film was remade as Nothing But the Truth (1941) starring Bob Hope and Paulette Goddard.

.. back to the top …

Sunday, September 8th, 1929

We are at the farm now – minus Dad, who had to go to London on business (about the game), a day or two after we arrived, and will only come back on Wednesday evening – we have to go on Friday.

The old car we hired, a Standard, was so hard to drive that Mum could not do it, so Dad took it back to Bristol with him, and is going to return in it to drive us back.

The life here is absolutely different from our life at Bristol, and we will feel quite queer getting back to it, I expect.

Every morning we go for a walk with Pat, and try to make her go to sleep, or else she is crabby later on. Every afternoon we walk down to Seaton beach and take our tea with us. We usually bathe once before tea, and once after.

When we have anything to buy we get it at the store at Seaton, or if we are not able to get it there, we (usually Alan and I) walk to Looe, about 3 or 4 miles, and all hills and valleys.

There are only candles to take to bed. At supper we have an Aladdin lamp, which is very fragile and we have to be very careful with it. Every night she (Mrs Perrys) tells us the the mantle costs eighteen pence, and the burner (as she calls the wick) two shillings; and if we play Dad’s game, or my skittles, she carefully changes the table-cloth to an old holey one.

On wet days, and sometimes fine ones she turns the mats upside down, so we shall not spoil them – that’s what Mrs Perrys is like!

It was my birthday about a week ago, and I had ten shillings from Mum & Dad, and a fine table skittles game from the boys. Everyone remembered me, and that was fine.

We are none of us longing to go home to the old life, and we think this is the nicest holiday we have had, excepting France.

No more time now – my candle is getting low!

Flying officer Waghorn won the Sneider Trophy* for England against Italy for twice in succession. The average speed was 328 m.p.h   HURRAH!

Good-night

*Flight Lieutenant Richard Dick Waghorn AFC (1904–1931) was an English aviator, a pilot with the Royal Air Force who flew the winning aircraft in the 1929 Schneider Trophy seaplane race

.. back to the top …

Categories
Uncategorised

Poems copied

Hooray! I have now copied all Mum’s poems from the old site (39 of them), and they are now ready to access here.

Mum’s old poem book
Categories
Meg poem

The Sapper’s Lament

The Sapper’s Lament

I’m complaining of my head and eyes
  and also of my chest;
I never get a minute’s sleep; I can’t march
   with the rest
Because my feet have flattened out, and
   since my bunions came
(After my wife had turns last year) I’ve
   never been the same.
My mother suffers from her nerves, she
   says she had fits when
She was a kid. My father’s dead – he
   died when I was ten
(Though ’twasn’t that that killed him). I
   left school at Standard III
And mighty glad to leave I was, and ran
   away to sea.
But when I got the chance to quit I took
  a job on land
For sea life is a rough life and there’s
   some jobs I can’t stand.
(I told you of my eyes and feet and
   how I cough at night
Till it feels as if my head’ll bust?) My
   back’s never been right
Since an accident I met with when
   a lorry knocked me down –
They kept me weeks in hospital, and they
   baked my whole back brown
But it made no difference to the pain,
   [and so] I made them pay

Full compensation – I can’t bend or lift
   things to this day.
But when they called me up I came and
   tried to do my share,
Was it my fault about my head and
   chest and feet? It’s not fair
To label me a shirker when I go sick.
   I know you
Would like a little medicine if you
   suffered like I do.
They put me down as A1 when I joined –
   they didn’t care
How much I coughed (though I coughed a lot)
   and if I had been near
To having one foot in the grave ‘twould still
   have been the same,
And now I’m on a draft you know and
   seeing that I’m lame
And my back’s bad and my chest weak
   I thought that you’ld agree
My category needs altering, it should be
   C – or E.

Margaret Taylor

Categories
1994 Meg poem

Samaritans

Samaritans  (1994)

Samaritans, Samaritans
Oh rally to the call!
Come early to your sessions please
Ye unsung heroes all.

Fear not that ringing telephone;
Fear not the flashing lights;
Fear not the chiming front door bell;
Don’t dread those long long nights.

You only have listen;
You only have to care;
You only have to share their woes,
Their worries, their despair.

You are a stranger, just a voice,
An unknown entity,
But you are linked to life and death
By your telepathy.

Meg Rugg-Easey May 1978

Categories
1978 Meg poem

Little Children

Little Children  (1978)

“Let little children come to me”
Said Jesus, “Let them stay ;
“Heaven is built by such as these
“So turn them not away.”

But mothers with no time for kids;
Short-tempered Mums who yell;
No-nonsense Mums, unsmiling Mums
All make a child’s life hell.

I see them in their private hells
Grow warped beyond repair.
Oh Christ! What waste of love and joy –
And what use that I care.

I long to help them, hold them tight
And share in their despair
I long to help them, but I can’t;
I must not interfere.

Meg Rugg-Easey May 1978

Categories
1978 Meg poem

The Walls Reverberate

The Walls Reverberate  (June 1973)

The playroom walls reverberate,
At evenings and weekends,
To the thunder of the latest ‘pops’
When Colin and his friends,
With record-player at full blast
And everybody singing
Go through the pop-charts from the top –
Then back to the beginning.

Susan is working in her room
Preparing for exams.
The little wireless on her desk
Croons to her while she crams.
She says it helps her concentrate,
Perhaps it does, for she
Is doing well. She plans to go
To university.

My husband’s in the sitting room
Playing the organ there;
It helps him to relax, he says,
When he has time to spare.
So ‘Annie Laurie’, ‘Clementine’,
‘Daisy’ and ‘Danny Boy’
Go floating sweetly round his head
In electronic joy.

I’m in the kitchen washing up,
Cooking the supper too.
I do not mind domestic chores,
Whatever job I do.
I’m listening to my wireless set,
Tuned in to Radio Three,
And Handel, Bach and Beethoven
Go everywhere with me.

Meg Rugg-Easey May 1972

Categories
1972 Meg poem

The Vortex

The Vortex (May 1972)

The centre of life’s vortex is a place
Of stillness. All around it ceaselessly
The turbulence of swirling water flows.

   Those who are fearful of life’s dangers seek
The shallower waters at the periphery
Buying their safety at their souls’ expense;
Some shelter in secluded pools, removed
From the fast-racing currents; here they live
And of stagnation gradually they die.
Some drown before they even learn to swim
Some are destroyed by forces greater than
Man can oppose. Lucky is he who comes,
After long striving, to the central calm
And there, like a dolphin risen from the depths,
Inhales the life-giving air.

   His goal attained,
Here he can rest, here is his soul content,
And here, having found the way, he may return
Leaving life’s turmoil for a little while,
To renew his strength in quiet and solitude.

Meg Rugg-Easey May 1972

Categories
1972 Meg poem

Invisible Houses

Invisible Houses (May 1972)

We carry, each, our house upon our back –
As does the snail – but it’s invisible,
More like an extra skin, an atmosphere,
Perhaps a fragrance. We are recognised
As much by it as by our face and form,
And every day we live we are building it.

Some build a house as fresh and welcoming
As is a summer garden; some a cell
Bare and ascetic as a hermit’s cave;
Others are locked in dungeons dark and foul
Fettered by care, their heavy chains self-made.

We carry, each, our house upon our back
And day by day we build it, brick by brick.

Meg Rugg-Easey May 1972