After breakfast, the younger girls lined up outside their cottage for their daily chores. Today the older girls knew they were not going into their classrooms because it was the week for getting the big garden planted. Most of them would spend today and tomorrow gardening.
Down on Misery Farm (girls’ version)
Down on Misery
Down on Misery
Down on Misery Farm School
Where you work all day
And get no pay
We wax the floors
And scrub the doors
Down on Misery
Down on Misery
Down on Misery Farm School[1]
Marjorie really did not like working in the big garden, but at least she was away from her cottage mum all morning. She grabbed another handful of weeds. White fluffy bits covered everything. She looked up and thought it was snowing. The air was full of the tiny white bits of fluff. “Look,” she yelled to the girls. “It looks like snow, doesn’t it?”[2]
The girls stood up and tried to catch the fluffy stuff. “This is neat stuff. I wonder what it is.” They laughed as they jumped up trying to catch the light fluffy bits.
“Hey, you girls, get back to work.” The gardener did not put up with anyone playing around in his garden.
It was warm for the end of May, and the girls groaned as they went back to their work. Well, Marjorie thought, they can’t stop us from talking.
“I hate our new cottage mum, don’t you?” Marjorie asked the girl beside her.
“I’ll say! She’s a real old witch. I think she hates us, too. I hate that we have to bring her breakfast in bed on Sunday morning.”
“I really hated it when we had to make her a special breakfast for Mother’s Day. She’s not our mum; she’s an old hag.”
The girls giggled. “Yeah, but we got her back, didn’t we? I wonder if it is really true that if you use the water we boil her eggs in for her tea that it will poison her? It doesn’t seem to be working. Maybe she’s too strong, or maybe it’s a slow poison and it doesn’t work right away?”
Every Sunday morning, when the girls prepared the mum’s breakfast, they made her tea with the same water that they boiled her eggs in. They heard that eggshells can carry a poison, and they wondered if using the egg water for her tea might poison her. Every week the girls watched as she sipped her tea, looking for signs that it was working. But she just smiled at them and took another sip. “You can go now, girls. I have everything I need.”
“Yeah, maybe one day she will just drop dead! I hope I’m there to see it!” The girls laughed and all agreed that would be one thing they would not want to miss.
“Maybe they have to drink it every day for the poison to work. We only give it to her on Sunday. Maybe that’s not enough. We gave our last cottage mother egg-water tea all the time and it didn’t poison her either.”
“Yeah, we did, too. I can’t believe that she couldn’t taste the spit in her food, though. We could barely stop laughing when we put her food on her bedside table. When we had to say ‘happy Mother’s Day’ we were choking back our giggles.” The group of girls fell in the dirt laughing. They had tears streaming down their faces. “Oh, my side hurts! Don’t make me laugh anymore!”
“She’s so dumb. I think she thought we were smiling so much because we were happy at being the chosen ones to serve her breakfast on Mother’s Day. I’d like to serve her my fist. It’s too bad that girls can’t take up boxing. I’d practise every single day until I knew I could take her down with one blow.” The girl stood up and punched the air.
“Well, what about the time Fanny Apple got really mad at the mum and threw the iron at her? Remember? The mum was going down the stairs. Fanny Apple was standing at the top of the stairs, and she just let it go. I think she meant to miss her, though. It would have cracked her head apart if she actually hit her. Can’t you just see her with an iron sticking out of her head?”
“I thought it was a piece of firewood.”
“That was a different time and different cottage mother. I’m surprised the old witch is still here. She has had some close calls.”[3]
“Hey, you girls, stop fooling around. Get those carrots planted, and then you can start on the turnips. It looks like the weather might change, and we need to get this planting finished today.” The gardener seemed anxious to get the work done. “C’mon. The boys planted the entire potato field quicker than you’re doing this. They got the beets in, too. Let’s go — no more fooling around.”
“Well, what do you expect? There are a lot more boys than girls; so if you have twice as many people doing something, you’ll get twice as much work done, dummy head!” one of the girls whispered, loud enough so the other girls could hear her but not the gardener.
The girls worked steadily while the gardener stood and watched them. As soon as his back was to them, they started to talk again. The senior girl in their group asked, “Wasn’t it fun to go to the music festival? We came in second.”[4]
“No, it wasn’t fun for me. I hate the choir.” Marjorie scowled. “During choir practice I was told to pretend to sing the words because the teacher said my voice was no good.”
“Don’t feel bad. She wouldn’t let me be in the choir, either,” the girl beside Marjorie responded. The two girls looked over with envy. Your life was a little easier if you were really good at something that the grown-ups wanted, and the senior girl in their cottage had a beautiful voice.
“Hey, did you like the sports day we had last weekend?”
Marjorie groaned. “No! I didn’t get to go.”
“Why not? Where were you? It was fun.”
“Well, one of the trainee girls hit Bunny, so she came crying to me. I had to do something, so I beat the crap out of her. She told the matron, and I was the only one punished. The little pet didn’t even get a talking-to about hitting Bunny in the first place.” Marjorie flung a handful of weeds aside.
“Well, what do you expect? She’s one of the matron’s favourites. I’m not looking forward to staying at the matron’s cottage when I’m a trainee.”
“Me neither. But we don’t have to be there all the time. Anyway, I missed the whole sports day, and I had to weed the matron’s garden all day. I pulled out a bunch of her flowers and smashed them. I was so mad.” Marjorie yanked out a few more weeds. She was still feeling mad about it.
“Well, it’s too bad you didn’t see your brother run. He sure can run fast. I think he came in first for his age.”
“He always does.” Marjorie felt proud of her brother. “But it’s because he has to run fast to keep ahead of the bullies.”
“Yeah, my little brother is always getting beat up by the bigger boys in his cottage. At least you can look out for Bunny.”
“Yeah, but it isn’t easy because I know I’ll get all the blame. Have you noticed it’s always the favourites who pick on Bunny? I think it’s because they know they won’t get into trouble. It’s funny how they see every little mistake I make, especially Miss Bishop. God I hate her. I wish she’d just die.” Marjorie looked around to make sure no one had overheard her. Sometimes, when you least expected it, the mum was standing right behind you. She would just appear out of nowhere. The coast was clear. “Maybe she’s a witch — like, you know, a real live witch.”
“She probably is. She’s probably the Devil’s wife.”
“God, can you imagine her and the Devil kissing!”
“Oh, gross.” The girls let out peals of laughter. “Stop it. I’m going to pee my pants!”
The gardener stood over them. “The lot of you are going to get into trouble if you don’t get this finished!” He pushed his hoe at them in a threatening way.
The girls went back to their planting.
One of the girls began to sing their favourite song. The others joined in. It made them feel like rebels.
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br /> Down on Misery Farm School
Where you work all day
And get no play
We wax the doors
And scrub the floors
“It’s ‘get no pay’ and ‘wax the floors’ and ‘scrub the doors,’ silly.”
“Well, we scrub the floors, too, don’t we?”
“Yes, we scrub the floors and the stairs and the laundry and we weed and we plant and work all day on this miserable farm and get no pay. I hate it here. Hey, did you see the principal’s office building when it was on fire? I was hoping the whole darn place would burn down. Maybe they would send us home then.”
“Yes. I watched the boys form a line with their buckets. It’s a good thing that they practise what to do in case of a fire.”
“Who does?”
“The boys. It’s part of their training. One of the boys told me that they used an old fire cart and hose. On Saturday morning their duty master tells them where the fire is supposed to be and how to get there and he makes them run as fast as they can as if there was a real fire. Sometimes the boys run away and the duty master gets real mad. The office isn’t the only building that had a fire; the cow barn burned down and the sheep barn burned down, too. But they got all the animals out.”
“I wonder if someone is lighting the fires on purpose?” She dug her fingers into the soil, deep in thought for a moment, before turning to Marjorie. “I like planting the seeds better than weeding. Don’t you, Marjorie?”
“I guess so. I like eating the fresh carrots best, though, right from the ground. I had no idea that there was so much work in growing vegetables. I don’t want to be a farmer, do you?”
Marjorie instinctively whispered. It was an unspoken rule among the girls that you kept it to yourself that you had no plans to be a farmer, and especially not a farmer’s wife, when you got out of here. Most of the girls kept track of the years until they would be old enough to escape. Marjorie did not know what to expect once she was out. She had been to Duncan a few times, but really, she had little knowledge about life beyond the farm. She knew that they would probably send her to work in Victoria when she turned sixteen, and then she would find out. When she got out, would she know what to do? There was no one she could ask here because she was afraid that someone would guess that she was planning to escape.
Kenny told her that the boys tried to escape all the time. They never got very far because they had nowhere to go.[5] They could not carry very much food with them, either. They always came back, and they were tired, cold, hungry, and in big trouble. He told her that they really punished the runaway boys when they brought them back.[6] Kenny whispered to Marjorie that one day he would run away and they would not catch him — ever.[7] Marjorie watched his face. He was so serious and sure of himself that Marjorie hoped he was right. She saw that some of the boys just gave up after a while. They lost their spark. Their spirits seemed broken. She hoped that her brother would make it okay.
“Marjorie, why did you leave church last Sunday?” Her gardening partner tossed a clump of dirt at her.
“Yeah, how did you manage to get out of that, you lucky thing?”
Marjorie had been off in her own little world, thinking about things. She looked at the girls and tossed back some dirt. “What did you say?”
“How did you manage to get out of going to church the other day?”
“Oh, that. Well, I was standing there, and the room started to spin. It was like there wasn’t enough air in there. It was hot and stuffy. But I was confirmed at the new font first. I don’t know why. I don’t believe in God anymore.”
“Marjorie, he’ll hear you. Maybe you’re allergic to church? Don’t you just love it? Everyone is so excited about having the new church, but to us it just means one more building to clean.” She sang softly: “Where you work all day, and get no pay. We wax the floors, and scrub the doors.”
“Yeah, it seems that the work is growing, but the number of girls to do the work isn’t.”
“Well, what about the new group of kids that arrived a couple of weeks ago?”
“There were not many kids, and only six were girls. We didn’t get any new girls in our cottage.”
“We didn’t, either. I think they put them all together in one of the other cottages.”
“Remember when there seemed to be new kids coming in every few months? I don’t think we’ve had any new kids for a long time — maybe two years.”
“Well, I think the last group that came out was when my brother came out, and that was before Christmas, not the last one but the one before that. It must have been 1938.” She looked over at Marjorie. “Remember, I came out with your sister, and my brother came out a few months later.”
“I think you’re right. I don’t remember anyone coming last year.”
“Hey, look at the rainbow.” It had started to sprinkle a bit, but the sun was trying its best to win. “Wow! I can see both ends. It’s brilliant!”
“Do you believe in gnomes and the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?”
“You’re daft! It’s not a gnome; it’s a leprechaun. Have you ever tried to get to the end? It just keeps on moving. It’s impossible to find the end. So if there’s a pot of gold there, it’s pretty safe.”
“What would you do if you found a pot of gold, Marjorie?”
“I’d get out of here. I’d go back to England and find my family.”
“Do you know where they are?”
“No, but if I had enough money, I could find them.”
“Would you take me with you?”
“I’d take you all with me. We would show them all. We’d go home and help our mums, and then we could have our families back.” She had often daydreamed about finding enough money to go back home.
Marjorie stood up and stretched her back. The horses pulling the ploughs in the lower field were sending up clouds of dust. It must have rained very little. She watched the horse-drawn hay cutter as it cut the hay in the other field and was fascinated by how smoothly they cut the hay and left it lying in a row. She watched the boys who were doing the stooking. It looked like it was back-breaking work. The trainee boys worked hard, all right, and she could see that they had better do it right because the head gardener always made them redo the stooks that failed to pass his inspection. When the hay was dry enough to bring into the barn, it was piled up into high hills and carted away by horse and wagon. The boys were also in charge of the chickens, cows, and pigs. The school was doing its best to turn everyone into farmers, but Marjorie didn’t know of anyone who planned to be a farmer after they got out of here.
At the other end of the large garden field, a little band of boys was also nearing the end of their morning shift. The warm temperature made them mutinous at the thought of coming back out for the afternoon shift. The duty master had been pushing and prodding at them all morning, but they didn’t feel like hoeing or picking peas, and the raking and weeding was back-breaking work. All they could think about was the cool Koksilah River on their backs, and they longed for its refreshing waters to surround their dusty, sweaty bodies.
Their duty master, Mr. Sampson, yelled out in frustration, got down on his knees, and began to furiously grab at the weeds. “You do it like this! It’s not that hard.”[8] Seeing him down in the dirt made some of the boys stifle their laughter, while others were alarmed into hoeing a little harder.
“Now get to work if you expect to get a swim in before your afternoon shift. Sing with me. Sing the Fairbridge March with me!”
Cheerio!
Here we are
Working hard
On our Fairbridge Farm …
Our Empire home
For we love our island home
Our Empire home in Canada[9]
Marjorie turned away and ignored the commotion across the field. “Miss Bishop said she would walk into
Duncan this Saturday with us so we can go to the movies.”
“You guys are lucky. What do you think is showing?”
“I think the Wizard of Oz is on for the matinee.”
“Oh, I want to see that movie.”
Cottage mother and children. Perhaps they are getting ready to walk into Duncan. Marjorie is in the middle, fourth from the left.
“It’s worth it to walk the five miles into Duncan for a movie like that. We walked all the way once and the movie was awful. I can’t remember what it was called, though.”
“Remember the time when we walked into Duncan for May Day? There was a maypole and everything.” Marjorie thought of a group of the Duncan girls dancing around the maypole. They had on the prettiest dresses she had ever seen. She still remembered seeing a mother with her three daughters. It just made her miss her mum so much, especially when the lady sat on her blanket with the baby and watched her older daughters dance around the maypole. She wanted her mum to watch her. Maybe she would have avoided getting herself so tangled in the ribbons if her mum was watching. Maybe if she had on a pretty dress instead of her dingy old Fairbridge clothes she would have done better. Her cottage mum called her a clumsy oaf, grabbed her out of the circle, and made her sit and watch the others. The mother on the blanket smiled over at her. She wanted to run over and ask her … she wanted to ask her something, but what would she say? Can you find my mum? Can you take me home? Can I be your daughter, too? She looked at her cottage mum, who glared at her, and she knew that now was not the moment to try to escape.
“Oh, that was a great day, but do you remember when it started raining when we were walking back? We got soaked. Our cottage mum said she would never take us again.”
“And I saved my allowance just so I could spend it at The Canoe.”
Marjorie Her War Years Page 11
