The Sausage Tree by Rosalie Medcraft Page B

porridge. After breakfast we dressed in our very best dress, hats, shoes and socks that were kept only for Sunday School and town. There was always the same instructions: “Don’t talk to the larrikins on the corner”. The larrikins were a group of young local boys who sat on the verandah or leaned against the verandah posts of the shop every Sunday morning. They were quite harmless but we had to pretend that they weren’t there.
    Our Sunday school days are vividly remembered as are the teachers who were also church elders. One teacher, Mrs Power, also played the church organ. On Sundays the elderly lady always wore a black hat with a very long hat-pinstuck through it and a long black dress which swept to the ground. She dressed in the same manner, except for the hat, during the week when she worked in the general store which was owned by her family. Barbara and Rosalie would often go into the shop just to stare at Mrs Power’s head. One day when they could no longer contain their curiosity they went home and asked Mum how Mrs Power covered up the hole in her head; they couldn’t see one even though she didn’t have much hair. Mum was quite stumped. “What hole in her head?” she asked. “The one she sticks the pin through that keeps her hat on” was the reply. The twins were quite serious, but Mum chuckled about it for days afterwards.

    The highlight of the Sunday school year was the anniversary which was held on the third Sunday of November every year and for this we all got new clothes. Mum must have saved up all year to be able to afford new outfits for us all, not just outer clothes but brand new underwear as well. As anniversary day came near we would be excited at the prospect of a visit to town to choose the material for our new dresses and to get new shoes and a hat.
    Going to town was a real treat as we also went to Granma’s for dinner when we went on the shopping excursions. As there was no way we could let her know we were coming, Mum said it wasn’t fair to expect Granma to feed so many extra people, so she always bought pies in town to take with us. This was another special treat for us as it was the only time we were lucky enough to have what we considered a luxury. Shopping day was always just one day in the August holidays and we kept our fingers crossed, hoping that Mum was well enough to cope with the long day in town.
    The adventure began when we caught the bus at eighto’clock in the morning and didn’t finish until we arrived home at six o’clock that evening. It was a very long and tiring day as we would have to be out of bed by six o’clock so that we would have plenty of time to do our chores.
    Town shopping days were eagerly looked forward to even though the ride to Launceston and back again was a horrible disaster for Valda and the twins. Travel sickness was a curse that had to be endured and coped with, with the cooperation of the bus driver. This was no modem passenger bus, it was always old; we thought it was made old and had never been new. There were long wooden seats right across the width of the bus in two or three rows where the passengers perched, dressed in their Sunday best, complete with hat and gloves for the trip to town. The passengers were usually women and to get to a seat one had to scramble over their feet.
    Behind the seats was a big empty space that was used to transport all manner of freight to and from town. It was the same bus that took our daffodils to the hospital. The freight would be anything from fencing wire and grain seed to motor oil or spare parts for machinery. The driver would leave most of it at the corner for a farmer to pick up. Nothing was ever stolen and everyone seemed to know who owned what. There were hardly any motor cars then and it would have been impossible to carry it away. The bus also carried the flour for the bakery and groceries for the shop. The whole framed body of the bus was