Newquay

Newquay was approximately five miles away and for a special treat or for shopping needs. Aunty would take us on Saturday morning, we had to be ready and waiting by the end of the lane ready to flag down the bus for the trip up hill to Fraddon and then on to Newquay. On a few occasions we went to St Columb Rd Station and went into Newquay by steam train .As soon as we arrived we went shopping for boots shoes and clothes after which it was lunch usually fish and chips in a shop overlooking the harbour. Then if the weather was fine down on the beach to dig up the sand Aunty sat in a deck chair and watched the air force exercising and drilling on the town beach. Most beaches were out of bounds and covered with barbed wire as a precaution against invasion. All the hotels were filled with RAF, in training or stationed at St Evil. On one or two occasions when the weather was wet went to the cinema instead. By half past five we had to line up to get a bus home. I always remember the little bus inspector Ernie Moise. He was barely five-foot tall but definitely had control of the situation, Aunty said he was a distant relative of hers. On other Saturdays if I needed a hair cut both Mary and I would walk to St Columb Rd on the way were instructed to call in at other relatives of Auntie's in Fraddon to carry messages, or to call in to Hoares shop a grocers. The whole journey was about four-mile and took us three or four hours in all. Auntie’s relatives always gave us a small present an apple or a sweet and on birthdays a small amount of money, which we hoarded jealously. And, if enough bought savings stamps or saving certificates.

TINY THE POMERANION.

“Tiny “ the dog always protected Mary if we had an argument Tiney would growl if she thought there was an disagreement going on once on a winter evening she bit my shoe under the table while we were disagreeing about a board game. Treefullock moor was a fairly permanent for some of the local gypsies. In Cornwall the gypsies are known by different categories True Romanies: i.e. fair ground people or travelers; Didycoys that is never do wells on the make untrustworthy, and cheap jacks as at a fair trying to sell you something for nothing; tricksters. One afternoon a Didycoy came to the back door at Mrs. Gregors. He was selling clothes pegs hand made. Mary and I were in the garden playing on the hedge, as Auntie opened the door the gipsy put his foot inside. Tiney promptly bit the offending foot. When its owner complained, Auntie quickly pointed out that it was his own fault for invading our property; she also refused to buy any pegs.

MUM & DAD,S VISIT TINEY & MR MAY

As time passed, and after Mum and Dads first visit, when we hired a taxi to meet them but somehow missed them coming home very disappointed, only to find they were already there When Mum and Dad arrived un announced from the taxi Tiney was the first one to great them. We always wondered how she knew who they were but she did she wagged her tail and did not bark once. I remember being very possessive of their company wanting them all to myself. I cannot remember what the sleeping arrangements were or if Mr. May Aunties father had passed away by that time. He used to walk up the lane to visit his wife's grave in the cemetery, Aunty Gregors dog Tiney a Pomeranian terrier used to accompany him. Mr. May told us that when he started work he went as a farm labourer then he joined a mowing team using a scythe. He said the wages were a penny a day and a turnip (Swede) .When they wanted to sack him they claimed he had put his hand up a maidens skirt . I do remember that every Tuesday the Rev Kempthorne would call in to see him and have a prayer with him, and have tea and cake. I also remember especially after Wallace had joined up that he used to pray out loud at night every night that the good lord would take him. In the end a bad cold took him off. I was not asked to go to the funeral, but it was all over by the time I came home from school. Aunty was very up set that only once did his Wesleyan chapel brethren call in to see him.

CHURCH POLITICS’

Soon after this Rev Kempthorne went off to become a padre in the army, and we had a Lay preacher take over the running of the church, He was very modern in Ideas and had explanations for some of the miracles, i.e. the feeding of the Five Thousand. His version said that no self-respecting Jew would have gone for a day out without a packed lunch. They were all afraid to show what they had for fear of having to share and not having enough left for themselves, until one small boy was willing to share his lunch, being five small loaves and fishes, anyway this Lay preacher had friends in high places. One Sunday we had no less a person than the Dean of St Paul’s London to come and preach to us. During the course of his sermon he said if you do not like your vicar then get rid of him.

On the next Sunday morning after this the Rev Kempthorne took the service. The first two rows of pews were filled with newspaper reporters, local and national. The sermon was about how dangerous it was to get rid or your Rector, who had deemed it his duty to administer to the troops at a time of war. Now seeing that the Rector owns the parish living for life, the Bishop had no option but to place an elderly cannon in charge of the Parish for the duration of the war. Cannon Carr was well into retirement age when he took over the parish, and was well loved by the villagers both C of E and Wesleyan.

LANCASTER BOMBERS - MR. PAINE, HEAD MASTER.

One evening at sunset Mary and I heard a loud noise of aircraft I stood on the bank outside the front gate and the sky filled with low flying Lancaster Bombers. We could see the pilots and the gunners very clearly we waved, and they waved back as they went out on a night raid across the channel towards France. As time and the war moved on our evacuee numbers diminished some reached working age and returned to London , others went back home for other reasons. When our head mistress was recalled to London. We had to amalgamate with the local school in there building Mr. Hart staid with us (he was an intelligence officer in the Home Guard with the rank of cornel).This was at time before D-Day. The Church of England School Head Master was a Mr. Box, his wife had been very ill for a long time. Shortly after she died Mr. Box who was sixty years old got engaged to the district nurse, who had been administering to his wife. All the village tongues wagged furiously. Then they married and had a baby, then Mr. Box retired, and this meant a new Headmaster.Mr. Payne was the replacement. Mr. Payne came from Plymouth had had an apprenticeship in the dockyard as an engineer, so his math’s were very good , he also played piano and organ , was keen on drama and also a very good watercolourist. On first seeing him I thought he had a tight mouth and chin, and remember thinking he might be a disciplinarian. I was severely mistaken as he was a good teacher and a lovely man. He was at church on Sundays and very quickly took over the Organ playing as Miss Flamank was about to retire as she was quite elderly. On occasions I pumped organ for Mr. Payne when he needed to practice. His playing was much more flamboyant and needed more wind than usual, I let the wind out off the organ once during the Halleluiah Chorus the organ made an awful noise but it was only on a practice . The trouble was that pumping the bellows made a noise so I had to make sure to get a full bellows of air before the loud passage.

SKETCHING IN WATERCOLOUR.

Mr. Payne also agreed to take me on a sketching expedition. I remember arriving at the schoolhouse on a Saturday morning about noon only to be told that he had had to go to Truro, his wife said I could wait, and supplied me with tea and cake and Art Books to look at The Tate and National Gallery collections. Mr. Payne finally arrived and we went a short walk up the lane for a view across the fields towards the clay tips, I just watched him and learned an awful lot. He asked about old farm building and I suggested Mr. Betisons farm. I got Permission and we both did a painting on the next following weekend.

Toward the end of our stay in Cornwall I remember seeing Mr. Betison in his Sunday clothes he had a broad brown check jacket and plassfours a white shirt and tie. I was so surprised how smart he looked, as I had only ever seen him in a dirty old pair of trousers and shirt with a battered old trilby on his head with muddy boots on his feet. Mr. Betison was a keen Bell Ringer so his only hobby was curtailed for the duration of the war , bell ringing did start up immediately after the Germans were defeated I cannot remember weather he stayed for the whole service or not.

In the winter it could be icy in the mornings the ponds often go frozen over at school we found a rut the length of the playground. Before leaving in the afternoon we would douse that end with water in the hope it would freeze and leave us a slide in the morning. There was also a van that called with hot pasties at six pence a time, and the inevitable fish and chip shop in the village that also doubled as a meeting place, especially at weekends. We were always told we could get a bus home if it was very wet, but we nearly always walked. As time waiting for the bus plus the walk up the lane would mean we were wet anyway.

SHOOTING & RABBITING.

Easter Monday was a holiday set aside for rabbiting and ferreting I would go and help set nets over rabbit holes , then the ferret or ferrets were put down the holes to flush out the rabbits, some had coops on there noses to stop them biting the prey. Any rabbit that got caught in the net it was left to me or the dog , any rabbit that escaped the nets and was well clear of the dogs would be shot. The shot guns were always carried with the barrel broken but loaded, therefore the barrel had to be closed before aiming and shooting.

DEADWOOD DICK

Mr. Hart was very interested in local history and had found this story, which he told us, .At the time of recession many Cornishmen tried their luck in the U.S.A. Among them was a John Richard Bullock he was from Fraddon and was a crack shot with a shotgun, and in America got a job with Wells Fargo. Riding shotgun on the Deadwood stagecoach. Now at that time there were a number of outlaws about and he survived a good few skirmishes and made quite a name for his self and became known as Deadwood Dick. Mr. Hart said he came back home and eventually died in Fraddon and is buried in the Methodist Chapel cemetery there. One of the Crawl children went home to lunch and came back with the news that, Richard John Bullock was a relative and that he was his second cousin. Now the farmer who had taken up the small holding that the preachers family had vacated were Mr. and Mrs. Dyer , and Mrs. Dyers maiden name was Crawl and the Crawl children were her nieces and nephews. ; When I asked Mrs. Dyer she admitted that yes she was Deadwood Dick’s cousin. Some times we would call in to see Mrs. Dyer on the way home from school, she would give us a baked potato or an , sometimes if uncle Art (Arthur ) was away working she would ask us to pump up some water for her. The water pump usually had to be primed by tipping some water down its spout and then pumping like mad, with a forward and back action until water spurted forth and the buckets or ewers were filled. In his youth uncle Art had been very interested in Cornish wrestling. They had worked a large farm called Alune near St Columb Rd but retired early to the nine acres they now had with just four cows, and some chickens because Mrs. Dyer could not cope with the large amount of work attached to a dairy farm. Uncle Art was also very interested in brass and silver bands and listened on the wireless to “The Black Dyke Mills Band “and the “Fodons Motor works band .“ The Cornish had silver bands in almost every village .

THE SMALL HOLDING.

When it was wet Mary and I also used the large shed as a playground. And sometimes, had tea in there. One afternoon Uncle Art was going through to milk the cows, he liked to do this alone because one of this cows was rather nervy and was inclined to kick if upset, in fact at one time when nervy had lashed out and he had been unprepared, and she had kicked him in the face breaking his false teeth .knocking them clean out of his mouth into the muck. While Uncle Art was chatting to us, Mr. Betisons cat came through the door , she was easily recognized because her left front paw was bent probable damage in a trap , Uncle Art though she might have come to stay for a holiday , but we all realized differently when she produced a mouse for us to see , ate it and very quickly produced another and then another both dead .On Saturdays when on shopping trips to Newquay we often checked with Uncle Art Dyer as to his opinion on the weather for the day. At which he would stare fixedly at the South West for a minuet before declaring it would be fine, he was never wrong. I remember doing little jobs for him at times when he was engaged with outside work like thrashing; we sometimes collected eggs ware his chickens had laid outside the hen house. Mr. Dyer’s nervy cow was about to calve, the vet was called Mrs. Dyer took Mary to see the proceedings and watched while the heifer calf was born. Mary was allowed to name the calf "Bell". Mary said they had to pull the calf out with a rope around its legs.

READING & AMUSEMENTS.

Uncle Ould had also been to America in his youth and had taken any job he could get I remember him saying he had been asked to shave a dead man so that he would look smart in his coffin. Uncle had also brought home a number of very sad and old country and western or cowboy songs , which we were allowed to play on Sundays if it was raining. Aunty and Uncle had a set of Arthur Mee’s children’s encyclopaedia’s, which had been bought for their son Wallace. Wallace was quite sharp and bright but not all that practical. I was allowed to use the encyclopaedia's at any time but I had to ask and have clean hands and if it was in the winter to sit in a cold front room, to use them. There were lots of games and puzzles and illustrations of how to make things i.e. Bows and arrows, boomerangs boat models, I tried most of them out. Wallace thought I was mad but when he tried to throw a war boomerang I made he had to jump out of the way quick to save his legs from a thump. I was all the time making boats and spent hours hollowing them out from pieces of green wood, with a penknife and a chisel. Then making masts and paper sail to size. The boats were usually not large as the biggest expanse of water was the farm cattle drinking trough or pond. I also had a small cheap clockwork motor from a broken toy from which I made powered boat by cutting a propeller from a tin lid with snips and making a shaft to connect to the motor, which was mounted on a larger flat tin for the hull. At the first try it went around in circles, so I had to adjust the prop size and add a rudder, then it went very well.