The large dormitory containing 33 beds, all with bundles of varying sizes, is silent apart from the occasional cough, sneeze or murmur of someone having a noisy dream. At this early hour of 5am there is movement of a female figure, shaking one of the bundles, “Wake the others and be quick about it”. The bundle rises to reveal a lad of 14 years, not yet fully awake but already aware of what must be done. Seven other forms are bidden to rise, this they do quietly. Wash and then down the outer rear staircase.

Two of these forms disappear into the darkness in the direction of the dairy, to join with others from other houses, to feed and milk the cows then to later deliver the product to each of the 18 houses in the Burnside Orphanage.

Bread ready for a meal

The kitchen door has been unlocked by the sub-matron, and the boys file in to prepare the morning meal. The coal fire has already been lit as also the coke hot water heater. Four cottage loaves of bread lie with a bowl of golden syrup and another of beef dripping on the large wooden table in the room, whilst the older boy proceeds to slice the loaves, knowing that it’s compulsory to get at least twelve slices to the loaf, the others spreading and cutting each into quarters. Another of the lads is busy at the coal-fired stove, making the traditional oatmeal porridge, though not as salty as the Scots would have it. In the large adjacent dining room the three tables are being set ready for the breakfast to be served.

Right on the dot of 6am Matron enters the dormitory, telling all it's time for prayers with each child kneeling by his bed in obedience. Wash and dress is next, then after each making their bed they are off to their allotted duties, from the smallest of about eight years, who sweep the paths and pick up papers, to the heavier tasks of scrubbing and polishing etc. The most onerous and heartily disliked duties were that of filling and bringing in the coal and coke buckets, which were empty 30lb IXL jam tins. There had to be six of coal and four of coke carried into the scullery before one left for school each morning and in Winter time to be out on the coal heap in the frost was often a fate much worse than death, for all of us kids.

With breakfast ready a bell was rung and all lined up by the large sliding door with a clean hands and face inspection before allowed to march in. Each would stand behind their chair, grace would be said and then at Matron’s word they would be seated and the meal would be taken.

There would be no talking allowed at the tables, nor unruly behaviour tolerated, the Matron and Sub-Matron having their breakfast nearby and keeping an eagle eye on all their brood. Again the older lads would leave their table early to commence the clearing away and the ever present washing up that follows where ever one eats. A concluding grace is sung, by the majority remaining, prior to the dining room being vacated.

The 8am sick parade is next called and those with scratches, bruises, ills and any other ailments, are dispatched by Matron to the Margaret Harris Hospital in the grounds for the necessary treatment and if deemed to be ill are admitted for treatment and observation. One Nurse Gaudie was respected and renown for her addiction to using iodine on all and sundry, it may have been to pick the ill from the fake, but it certainly worked wonders.

Meanwhile back at the dairy, the 40 to 50 cows had been relieved of their burden, which was even now being delivered around the 18 houses, together with the workmen’s cottages, via a nicely painted milk cart. With either Jerry, one of James Burn’s old coach horses, or Bella, Dad Cameron’s cream mare, all to the tune of the older lads rattling their gallon cans and loud cries of “Milk-o”.

Next on the morning agenda was Prayers to be said in the tall red Sargood Hall to where each house, Glencoe included, marched dressed in their school clothes and with the odd pencil, rule and school book clutched in their hands. Entering the hall each house took its appointed place and faced the pulpit and behind it a stern Reverend. In my day it was the Rev. Doctor Ronald George Macintyre for whom the children had a great respect. He was followed by a Rev. Miliken, who held the position till about 1940.

With the inclusion of Morning prayers it was but a short walk to the L shaped school donated by the late Sir James Murdoch. There was just time for the odd short game of marbles before we were marched in at 9.30am to the beat of a kettledrum. But not before we had saluted the flag and recited the text, “I honour my God, I serve my King, I salute my flag” together with Advance Australia Fair being sung each Monday mornings school week. The school, though the property of the Orphanage, was staffed, managed and supplied by the New South Wales Department of Education. In those terrible years of the depression it catered for over 500 children, teaching all grades from Kindergarten to the Intermediate standard. Very few of the pupils possessed a school case or satchel or even needed one, their tools of learning being so few. Those fortunate enough displayed their Waterman or Conklin self-filling ink pens to the envy of all others.

There was a play time break at 10.30am during which the boys and girls would each be involved in the particular sport determined by whether it was Winter or Summer. Marbles, kites, shanghais, vigaro and many other forms of addictions being also favoured from time to time, all the children being left to devise their own forms of entertainment.

Burnside school children

Back in classes by 10.30am till their 12.30pm lunch break of an hour, when they returned to their own houses, walking the short distances comfortably and even finding time for to engage in the prevailing seasons sport. Mind you not all were so fortunate, for with only two adult staff to each house, the chores of food distribution and the inevitable need to wash and tidy up had to be accomplished, before those assigned to them were allowed to return to school and many were the late comers who suffered accordingly. The older boys being off-siders to the trades people, the vegetable garden of 12 acres, together with the poultry and the dairy, with its cultivated fodder crops, broke for one house lunch period commencing at 12pm. They then worked through till 4.30pm, those at the dairy finishing at 4pm. Lucky them, or were they? School closed at 3.30pm with the teachers catching buses, their bicycles or the very rare care of their own and the adoration of their pupils. Many a time we vied loudly to be doubled on the handlebars of teacher’s bike to the far gates of Burnside, or pushed an old Douglas belt driven motorbike till it eventually disappeared in a cloud of smoke in the direction of Parramatta.

Back again at Glencoe, first change into play clothes and once again the duties of the day reared their head. The little-ees being sent down the cow paddocks to gather kindling wood from below the gums, and armful each being required to set the two fires of an evening ready for the morning. Those of the middle table to bring in more coal and coke buckets, another group were set to peeling and preparing the vegetables to be cooked the following day. Finally the big table as it was known, back in the kitchen again slicing those six loaves needed for the evening meal, all this to be divided between 33 hungry growing lads, small wonder there was never any crumbs or scraps!

Finally, who of today’s generation would accept that it was publicly acknowledged that the princely sum of 21 pounds and five shillings would maintain a child for one year and that this was asked of sponsors to assist those deprived of parents in the harsh days of yesteryear.