CHAPTER 5

OUR FATHER

The next year is the only year I can remember anything about our father, and then not a lot. But when the cold weather came, he showed Fred and I a game to play. He said it was a game that would help to keep us warm. Better than sitting round the fire. We had a cushion each, and were told to throw the cushion up the passage that went to the front door, and then trot up and get it, and throw it back. I suppose he thought a cushion was the only safe thing we could play with at our age, and if it went astray, which it did once or twice and landed in John's pram it still wasn't big enough to hurt him. Father was big, with a beard. In those days when I was growing up, if a man had a beard it was always grey, because a man would never let his beard grow unless he was old, and that was the difference in our father. He was quite an elderly father more like most peoples grandfather, in fact, I was actually afraid of other children's fathers because they weren't like our father was.

I expect the first five children in our big family remembered him in quite a different way, when he was active and in good health, and without a beard. But although' mother always talked about him all her life time to me, and it was always in praise of him, my big sisters and brothers never mentioned him.

Another incident has always remained in my memory about father. He picked a red geranium off one of mothers’ plants on the window sill, and put it in the bun of her hair, and said "Don't you think your mother looks like a pretty picture", and we all laughed including mother.

I was four years old when it happened.  Father and Mother were standing looking out of the living room window at me , when, I saw the cart go pass.  I was quick to realize that the horses neck which was hanging down was that of our old grey mare.  It must have died, and was taken away.

Farmers were always attached to their animals in those days and their horses were as close to them as their sheep dogs. Even if they didn’t lay by their feet by the fire side.  It was a very sad time for all.

My father said to mother, "Poor old thing and I always felt sure she would live long enough to take me up to the churchyard." What down to earth days, that was 1914!!!

Mother and father were so upset about the mare (no doubt about it). We did hear enough to know the old grey mare was not well, because us children’s donkey, and the mare, were such close friends that they were never apart day or night. If they were not working they slept standing by each others’ side, and it was quite a tragedy, when the mare collapsed, and fell on the donkey, which killed our poor donkey. This was the start of bad luck. as this donkey had an off spring, which also had a sad end. that was caused because of one of us, and nobody really knew which of us children it was, broke a rule about our swing. The last one who played on it always should throw it up in the tree it was hanging from in case the animals got tied up with it. This rule was  forgotten though, and the little donkey accidentally hung itself. The rope got twisted round its little neck and in the morning little Jenny was found too late, strangled with the rope of our swing. After that sad mishap, we had an auntie who gave us a donkey. That was on condition we could fetch it. The only arrangement that could be settled about fetching it, was that the middle man the fifth child brother Bob would go, and ride the donkey back.

It was no easy task, considering it was about 20 miles, but he was going to stay the night, and I suppose nobody doubted for one minute that the return would be difficult, but it definitely was. As this naughty creature decided it wasn't going to let our poor brother ride it, when he got on his back he laid down. So the story goes, that’s what happened. It was the longest marathon ever done by a boy so young. A walk on his own over the hills and far away for a naughty donkey, who had to be led all the way home. So, if you are told donkeys are stubborn it is certainly true.
 

 Next

Click for Chapter