This kind of farm life is full of interest: open-ended daily program; no clocks to punch; what is not done today can wait till tomorrow, except when the harvest is ripe for reaping. Then there is no dragging of the feet. The whole district is alert, harvesting acres of oats or wheat before the rain soaks the tall standing crop or hail knocks it down. It is serious work, early and late. I spare you the details I remember so well of gathering the hay, building the stacks or sewing the bags of wheat as they came off the harvester those days. A man who owns a prosperous wheat farm with sheep is in paradise on this planet. He cooperates with the seasons and God provides the harvest. But usually only old established farms or inherited properties enjoyed the full benefits of their labours. Most of the income went to banks who had financed the smaller farmers, and demanded the bulk of the profits and their interest.
I was not destined to be a farmer, nor did I harbour any such aspirations. At fifteen years I was looking for something more, yet didn’t know what it was. There must be something more attainable, more fulfilling, more satisfying for a young lad groping through the mysteries of approaching manhood. There was a city down there where thousands of young people were doing exciting things and going places. How could I get involved? What do you do to get out of this country rut? Aunt Lena rented rooms from Radzio’s in Hobart where she and Grannie Brandstater were living comfortably. Nearby were the Millingtons, old friends of the family; Arthur, Harold and Cyril were in my age group. Mrs. Millington took me in as a boarder. Next I answered an advertisement for a grocer boy, and out of the many applicants I managed to land the job. The wages were only ten shillings per week and I paid five shillings board, equivalent to about 50 cents at that time. Despite the meagre wage, with which I was quite content, I had a rollicking time with the boys, joined their cycling club, which was very active, and also joined the Hobart Band.
As a grocer boy my work was serving behind the counter, weighing up sugar, salt, tea, rice, beans, butter, biscuits, etc. and tying the parcels with string so that they were ready for serving. Then, too, I would ride out on horseback, visit regular customers, take their orders and the next day deliver them by horse and cart. This was at a rather sizeable corner store, but I wanted to get into one of the prestigious larger stores in the heart of the city, Moran and Catos, for instance. Here I admired the smart fellows in white coats and aprons like doctors in a hospital. So when an opening came I applied, was accepted, and worked there for a time.
On the pittance of pocket money I saved up enough to order a personal custom-built racer bicycle. It had to have the latest, lightest wooden rims, Major Taylor handles, and popular sprocket and driving chain. It was tops, and cost me a lot of money, fifteen pounds, approximately $60.00, which I met by time payment. This bike was a boon and a dominating interest in my life. I set myself to develop into a racing rider, which I did not really achieve, though I trained with the club and went on long runs week-ends. But I was too young to compete with experienced hardened riders. What I did learn was the effect of diet on the expending of energy. This was very noticeable on strenuous cross-country runs. On solid high-protein food one had more stamina, so that we were diet conscious and rejected the tempting cakes and scones that were so appealing. We were serious about our dieting discipline; if not, you would be left behind and lost by a bunch of experienced club members who had no mercy on trailers; they just left you. I could keep up with the bunch but needed a couple of years before I was competent to compete as a racer.
But my work as a grocer had limited horizons. I tried to keep my dignity when kids came in to the shop and asked for “three penneth of pigeons milk”, and other jokes they tried to put over me. But I was growing up and peering into the future. What did it hold for me without an education? What could I do? Gordon was at Avondale College. Little did I know that the burden of his prayers was for me. It was time for Adventist camp-meeting, and this time it was in North Hobart, bordering on Newtown. I went on the Sabbath. Elder Morris Lukens from America was taking the service. The Holy Spirit reached into my soul and gave me a new spiritual birth. This changed my whole outlook on life. I now was not satisfied with the city and the shallow interests in which I was involved. There was more for me somewhere, but where and what it was I did not know. I decided to go over to New South Wales to my father at Ardleathan, and on the way call at Avondale and see Gordon.
