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Barbara Greenshields (nee Jupp) born in 1924, remembers with us her childhood days, whilst living in Flansham Lane, Felpham.
'When I was eight I left the Infants and 'went up' into the big schoolroom, where we were separated from the older children by a curtain across the room. Now I had to stay an extra half hour, as lessons didn't finish until four o'clock. I also joined the Brownies and became a member of the 'Pixie' Six. Miss Newnham was my teacher in Standard Two and was also Brown Owl of the Felpham Brownie Pack.
We continued to chant our tables - they didn't intend us to forget them, but now we were learning our catechism and commandments.
A welcome addition was country dancing. I'd watched the older children doing this when I was in the infants and felt quite envious, so I was pleased that now I was having the chance to do it too. Miss Newnham taught us 'Rufty Tufty'. 'One and a bob, two and a bob, rufty tufty tufty', she sang to the gramophone music, in an effort to help us remember all the steps. I wore my prettiest dress when we gave a public performance at a hall in Middleton. We arrived in good time and had to wait to be let in. There was a notice on the door - I can't remember what it said, only that someone in our little group piped up in disgust, 'They've written that on lavatory paper'. She was right.
The three 'R's' presented few problems for me, but I didn't like needlework very much and found little joy in embroidering coloured hessian to be made into a kettle holder, and then laboriously hand sewing a winceyette baby gown. I must have been a late developer in this subject as it was several years before I became really interested and developed my skill at it.
Singing was a pleasure, 'Cuckoo cuckoo, pray what do you do?' we sang and the older children trilled 'O for the wings of a dove', 'Come sing again my pretty bird' and, of course 'Jerusalem'. Well they would, wouldn't they, with William Blake having lived in the village?
Our Brownie meetings were held after school in the summer. We wore our uniforms to school and all trooped with Miss Newnham to the church hall in Limmer Lane. There was a Tawny Owl and sometimes Brown Owl's younger sister, who was a Guide, came to help. Because of the dark evenings, we met on Saturday afternoons in winter. My recollection is that we spent a good deal of the time playing games. We once took part in some sort of pageant at the Pavilion in Bognor. I was dressed up as a Dutch girl. We used the Methodist church hall as our dressing room and walked over to the Pavilion, a distance of about fifty yards, as it stood well back from the road.
One afternoon we went by bus to Chichester to a service in the cathedral. There were a lot of brownies and guides and we had to squash up together, more brownies per row than chairs. Could this have been a 'Thinking Day' service? After school one summer afternoon we walked to a house in Middleton Road and had a tea party and games in the garden. I think this may have been at the invitation of the vicar.
Peter and Michael (my brothers) had each other as playmates and because of their closeness in age, and being the youngest of the family, Mother usually referred to them as 'the babies'. They had two imaginary playmates known as 'Diggy' and 'Lobby'.
My father sometimes did work at home - he wasn't fond of painting or decorating, but had a friend whose trade it was, so they would swap skills. Jack Chaston would so some painting or decorating for Dad and in return Dad did woodwork for him and sometimes this was a piece of furniture. When he was sawing wood, Michael would stand solemnly by, alternately bending and straightening his knees, going up and down, up and down, to the rhythm of the saw.
A black and white cat had made his home with us. He came to visit and decided to stay, as he didn't seem to belong anywhere else. I expect Mother took pity on him and gave him something to eat. (She did the same for tramps who knocked at our door from time to time). I don't think we children took a great deal of notice of him, or he of us. Unfortunately he was knocked down by one of the increasing number of cars which passed our home and was killed. We were all sad about it.
David (my eldest brother) and I had a scooter, quite a sturdy model and room for both of us on it. When we rode it together I would start off and get the wheels turning, then he would get on behind and hold on tightly. It's handlebars were a straight, hollow metal tube and, due to our poor choice of parking places, it was often left lying on it's side and when resting on soft mud, the handlebars functioned like apple corers leaving pellets of mud in the ends. I learned to ride a bike on my friend Mary's fairy cycle and hoped that one day I would be able to have a bicycle of my own.
We had a wind-up gramophone and a selection of records. 'The Tale of the Nancy Lee', 'Two Lovely Black Eyes', 'The Prune Song' and 'Down on Misery Farm' were among them. Our parents would sing this last one, teasingly, to us when we had what they called 'the miseries' - 'We're so miserable, oh so miserable down on Misery Farm'. This either made us worse or else we couldn't resist laughing. One that Mother particularly liked, was a Hawaiian song called 'Lei Lani'. 'When we have our own house', she would say, 'I'd like it to be called 'Lei Lani'.
We had a piano too, which Mother played. Like my father, she couldn't read music but played almost anything by ear, including a toy zither I once had given me and the mouth organ. She had been fond of dancing before her marriage and could give a creditable demonstration of the Charleston, at the same time singing the musical accompaniment.
Nan (Auntie Hilda) had bought a toy gramophone and some accompanying records of the appropriate size. It stayed at the 'Brit' (Britannia Inn, which my grandparents ran) where we loved to play it when we went to stay. It was from this popular toy that I learned the tunes of well-known nursery rhymes and lullabies. Goodness knows how many times I played them, until I knew the words by heart and could sing them to my dolls. Nan and my grandparents must have been heartily fed up with listening to them, some I have never heard since then. I can't really claim these as my party pieces as I seldom went to parties until I was older, but occasionally volunteers to sing a song would be asked for at school, and I was always willing to perform for whoever I thought might be an appreciative audience.
One of my favourites was 'The Sandman'
Here comes the Sandman
Stepping so lightly
Creeping along on the tips of his toes
As he scatters the sand
In the eyes of the sleepy children
Go to sleep my children
Close your sleepy eyes
The Lady Moon will watch you
From out the darkening skies
The little stars are peeping
To see if you are sleeping
Go to sleep my children
Go to sleep, Goodnight.
Returning from one of our school holidays at the 'Brit', I was greeted by Mother with (for me) some devastating news. Her sister, Annie and her two little girls had visited her. Jean, the youngest one had been fretful so, hoping to placate her, Mother had allowed her to play with my precious baby doll. The worst had happened; Jean had dropped the doll on he doorstep and her bisque head had shattered into many pieces. The doll had been a present from Nan and it was she who took her to the dolls' hospital at Brighton, where she was given a new head. I still have her, carefully wrapped and stored away in a drawer.
It was about his time I became more curious about where real babies came from. 'They grow inside the Mummy from a seed planted by the Daddy', Mother explained. I suspect she was relieved that I didn't ask where Daddy got the seeds or how he planted them, but 'How do they get out?' I wanted to know. 'The Mother opens when the baby is ready to be born, but don't tell the other children' she advised. 'Their Mothers might not want them to know yet'! Mothers always nursed their babies close to their breasts. Of course! That would be where they opened, then they would drop straight into their Mother's arms. What a convenient arrangement! For the time being I was satisfied.'
Isn't it amazing how children come to their own conclusions about such complex matters?
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