Shep's Place Family Tree

An English lady of title, who was suffering from a nervous break down, having been recommended to stay in a small German village in the mountains went there to enquire about lodgings and having no knowledge of German, secured the assistance of the local school teacher, who had a smattering of English. Having found suitable accommodation, she returned hone, but then remembered she had omitted to ask if there was a w.c. attached to the house. She therefore wrote to the schoolmaster for full particulars of as to the w.c., but as the schoolmaster had never heard of the abbreviation, he consulted the local pastor ‎(who had only a little knowledge of English)‎ as to the meanings. He came to the conclusion that the lady was a devout church-goer and wished to know where the wald chapel ‎(chapel in the woods)‎ was situated, and so wrote the following letter.

Your Ladyship
The w.c. is situated about 7 miles from your house, in the centre of a pine forest amidst lovely scenery and is open Tuesday and Fridays. This is fortunate if you are in the habit of going regularly, but you will no doubt be glad to hear that a number of people take their lunch and make a day of it. Others who cannot spare the time, go by car and arrive in time as they are in too great a hurry to wait. As there are a great many visitors in the summer I advise you to be early. The accommodation is good and there are 80 seats, but should you be late at any time, there is plenty of standing room. The bell is run 10 minutes before the w.c. is open. I would especially advise your Ladyship, to go on Tuesdays, as there is an organ accompaniment - the most delicate sound being audible throughout. Hymn sheets are provided at the door. I should be delighted to reserve the best seat for your ladyship and have the honour to be
Yours, etc.
P.S, My wife and I have not been for 8 months and it pains us very much.

In 1924 Thelma married Hector Finch, also of Nairne and a primary school classmate. They lived in Prospect. During their short marriage Thelma had four babies including twins. They all died of unknown causes within days or weeks of birth. Hec drank too much and ran up gambling debts. Thel left him in 1928 and moved to Millicent, where she lived with her sister Beryl and Fred Boase. Hec threatened her and had to be restrained by the police.

When she moved to Millicent Thel supported herself by giving piano lessons. At first she lived with Beryl and Fred Boase; when they left Millicent, she bought the house from them.

Years later in 1949 just before Christmas, Thelma and her friend Ralph Aubrey Skitch married at the Methodist Manse in Millicent. Ralph was a land agent, and Thel a music teacher. The witnesses at their wedding were Clarence George Leslie Willshire, business proprietor, Millicent and Evon Clarice Willshire, home duties, Millicent.

Thelma and Ralph both created and participated in local musicals put on at the Millicent Methodist Church. Ralph wrote "Homeward Bound," in which Thel, Una Boase, Bruce Boase, Beryl Boase and many others participated. A copy of the musical is in the Millicent Museum.

Come underneath my old umbrella.

Once in a wood, a very big wood
Where the oak trees grow so high.
She met a man and he met a maid
and oh, she did feel shy.

He glanced at her, she glanced at him
and then from overhead
the rain came pitter patter
He smilingly looked at her
and this is what he said.
‎(Chorus)‎
Come underneath my big umbrella
Little girlie do.
I'm sure your mother wouldn't like you, dear,
to get wet through.
If you don't mind us sitting close
you find there's room for two.
I'm sure your mother wouldn't like you, dear,
to get wet through.
So come underneath my big umbrella
Little girlie do.

There they sat 'neath a very large tree
Sheltered from the showers.
and though the rain soon cleared off again
They sat there for hours.
and when at last they said Goodbye.
He kissed her once or twice
She said, That's naughty Willy,
He replied, O, don't be silly
It's naughty but it's very nice, so
‎(Chorus)‎.

"When I was a little girl going to school, we used to play at the ‎[bacon]‎ factory. We used to roll up the dry manure from the horses and try to smoke it, and the paper would go up in smoke. It was where they kept the drays, etc., so it was nice and dry."

"When a girl, my hands were covered with warts. Aunt Una used to put thistle juice on them. Somebody at school told me that I must steal some steak, cut a piece off and rub it over the warts so that they would go off. It didn't work. For twelve months I used White's Corn Cure religiously. I had black marks all over my fingers.

A few days after Dad died, we went to Arno Bay near Port Lincoln to visit Hilda Hallett. We went on a boat called Ripara. I used to play with the children there. We played 'hide & seek' and 'tiggy-tiggy.' I'd also climb the trees and knock my hands. The warts would get knocked off and bleed. The men who were working for the government to clear the mallee would ask how the little girl's hands were. Then all of a sudden, without any warning, they just disappeared. It seemed that overnight they left. It was so surprising. I have never had one since."

After Mother died, Father said that he couldn't keep two big girls at home. One could stay at home to keep house and one must learn something. My sister Beryl, who was 21 years, went off to town to study millinery at G & R Wills. The hat in the photograph is the first one that Beryl ever made. It's made of Valentine lace. My sister Una, 18 years, stayed at home to keep house and look after me. She made the dress I am wearing in the photograph. It's made of a heavy creamy silk. My brother Roy worked at the bacon factory. He did all of the secret curing, how you cured bacon and all those things.

Calico came in big squares, and we had to fold it over and stitch it to make bags for the ham. The bags had to be ready early, so we'd go for our lives. A boy from the factory came to our house to help my sister, but when he went back, I'd take over. The van we had would leave for town with the ham and bacon about 8 a.m., so we had to be up between 4.00 and 5.00 a.m. Two times a week that happened. In those days there were no carpets, only lino which we had to wash; no washing machines. We ironed with a box full of coals, Mrs. Potts' iron. We had a cow, and we had to milk that.

I went to the Nairne school which had two classrooms. I was in the Upper Junior and First Class when the photograph of the Nairne School was taken. Later on I sat for the Qualifying Certificate in the fifth grade.

In 1910 the Nairne school went to the Exhibition Building in Adelaide for the school choir competitions. Mr. Sandercock, the choir director, was very musical. For months before we went, we were practising "The Soldier's Farewell" and "Calm is the Sea" in four parts. The Nairne school had four cement stairs leading into the school, and everyday we would practise going up and down the stairs. One of the older girls, Marg Jackson, played "The Sultan's Grand March" for us to go up and down the stairs and going on the stage in order. We all had to wear white. We also had to practise how to get into the railway carriages quietly and sit down without any ado.

We stayed at the Salvation Army Citadel in Pirie Street. The first meal we had there was corned beef, cabbage and carrots. I thought it was the worst meal under the sun! Then we had to get dressed and go to the Exhibition Building. We performed on a Saturday afternoon. We competed against several suburban schools. Thebarton was one. We won first prize. Afterwards some of the girls said, "Hmm, coming from the country and thinking you could sing ...You couldn't even sing your high notes." But we were very proud of ourselves.

Coming from the country, everything was arranged so that we were shown things of importance in the city. We had to attend services at the Salvation Army Citadel on Sunday morning. I got sick of it, so I crept out and slid up and down the lovely bannisters. Mr. Sandercock was so disgusted that he said that he should send me straight home and what would my father think. At the Citadel we slept three in a bed, not very comfortable, and me with my hair in rags.

We were taken to the fire brigade and shown all of the harnesses and polished brass, and the fire bell rang and all of the firemen slid down a pole while somebody got the horses onto the carriage. Off they went, and the horses were as fully trained as the firemen. There were a lot of horses, greys and bays. And then we were taken to the General Post Office to go up and hear "Big Ben" chime. We were taken up a lot of steps, then we go to just ladders, not very wide. I refused to go up the ladder. I stood there and bawled my eyes out. "Big Ben" chimed and nearly deafened me. After that we went to the zoo. We saw the guinea pigs. They were so busy dashing here and there. I was so thrilled with the guinea pigs that I didn't notice the others moving on. Later at the gate there was a hue and cry, "Where is Thelma?!" I was still at the guinea pig fence. Then we went home.

When we got home, my dad, who was Chairman of the District Council and was a great one for advancing the looks of the town and doing progressive things, was at the station to meet us. We all got a packet of lollies each. At the station there was a lot of hip-hip-hooraying. Later on that night, there was some 'do' at Nairne, and we were all given a gold medal, and I am still wearing mine: "First prize part song 1910 Exhibition T. Chapman Nairne". I sang soprano. I was nine, a year younger than the year. I was the youngest person in the choir. There was a photo in the Nairne Institute. We used to have dancing classes at the Institute.

Only special children were selected for dancing class. Miss Nankervis was the teacher. Nairne was only a very small town then. If you fell over during the class, that was the end of you. That was a disgrace. We were there in our pairs, and we started off with the music, barn music: 1-2-3-hop, and off we went. We only went around holding hands in circles. We had to behave ourselves, no giggling or laughing. We were taught to waltz, schottische ‎(1-2-R, 1-2-L, then whirl in a circle)‎. We had a piano there. Some of the dances were the Lancers, a square dance; the Albert, another square dance; the Polka, and the Waltz. For the square dances we didn't have a caller. We had to memorize the steps. Woe if you made a mistake! You weren't allowed to say "no" to anyone who asked you to dance, and we couldn't dance with the same boy all evening. At the end of the year we had a ball.

I started piano lessons when I was 7 or 8. We didn't have a piano at home. We had an organ, and when Father married the second time, his wife brought her piano from her residence, and I used to practise on that. When Dad died, she moved back to her people and took her piano with her. She took the organ, too. My brother Roy had a piano and so did Aunt Ann, and I used to practise there at 8 a.m.

Nellie Milne and Marg Jackson were both my piano teachers in Nairne. I can't remember who was my first teacher. I remember one day at Nellie Milne's I was wearing a beautiful cluster of pearls ring which had one big pearl in the middle with tiny pearls around it. I took it out of my stepmother's box to wear to school. I went to my music lesson with the ring on my finger. Miss Milne asked, "Thelma, where did you get that ring?" When I went home, I put it back in the jewelry case, and nobody ever knew. My stepmother used to say that if 1 would just once call her "Mother", she would give me that ring. I never did.

I was sent to church. Roy was in the choir. My sister Una didn't go because she prayed so hard for my mother to live. After Mother died, she lost faith. We had Sunday School Anniversaries at the end of every year. We had an orchestra. The headmaster of the Sunday School, Mr. Sandercock, was very musical. One of his daughters played the cello and the other one the violin. He used to conduct at the anniversary.

The girls who lived up the hill from us had ponies, Mickie and Dollie. I had a little Shetland pony. We used to ride all over the place. One day when my sister was away I borrowed her riding habit. It had a divided skirt, long to the ankles. Mickie, my friend's pony, was not used to skirts. Away he flew with my sister's habit flapping in the wind. I couldn't stop him. Finally he wore himself out, but he was in a lather of sweat. We had to get him groomed down before Mr. Paech got home because he wouldn't approve. When Mr. Paech came home he caught them. I don't know what story they told him. It was a lot of trouble.

Dollie was quiet, so I could stand on Dollie's back when we played circuses with the horses in the stone quarry down the road. Dot, my pony, was a savage thing. She would bite you if she got the chance. In the stone quarry there was a big flat stone. I wrote on it:

In 1910
the women ran after the men
they had no shimmies
to cover their jimmies
in 1910.

It remained there for years and years.

In October there used to be a Labour Day concert in Nairne. The ALP brought up artists from Adelaide. My father was a staunch Liberal, and to go to a Labour concert was beneath his dignity! All I saw were people all dressed up walking to the concert at the Nairne Hall.

My sister Beryl took me to town once. After Dad died, she took me to town for a day or two. We stayed in her boarding house in Hutt Street. I remember that she made friends with the Bensons who were also boarding there. They told her to be very careful because there were bugs in the place. All I remember is walking along Hutt Street ‎(There were croquet lawns)‎ and waiting for a tram. They were horse trams then. I ran out into the middle of the road and yelled, "Here it comes! Here it comes!" Beryl was trying to look all citified, and she was terribly ashamed of me.

I moved to Millicent after Father died when I was about thirteen years old to live with my sister Beryl, who was having her second baby. I went because Una, my sister in Nairne, was too busy to look after me. It was a bit much for her, not easy.

I went to the New Primary School in Millicent. My teacher was Mr. Armitage. He was an awful bloke who went around half-boozed. He used to thrash the boys. We all had to get "handers," both girls and boys. Mr. Armitage was very rough with the boys, nearly choking them as he pulled them from their seats by their collars.

One day I asked Angela Ford, a good girl who sat next to me, the answer to a question that I didn't know. Angela refused to tell me the answer, so I wrote a poem and handed it to her.

Angela et cake,
Angela et jelly,
Angela went to bed
With a pain in her belly.

Angela didn't say things like that, so she gave the note to Mr. Armitage, Mr. Armitage said that he had never heard anything so dreadful from a girl and ordered me to stand in front of the blackboard, which was on an easel. When his back was turned I drew cats and things on the blackboard to amuse the children. He caught me and came up to me with the cane. "Put out your hands!" Up with the cane. Just as the cane came down, I pulled my hands away, and he hit his leg. I took off around the desks while the other children yelled, "Go, Chappie, go!" I ran out the door and home. When I returned to school after lunch - I knew I had to go back - not a word was said. But one of the teachers, Tot Slater, told Beryl what I had done. Beryl wrote to our brother, Roy. Roy said that schoolmaster wasn't what he should be. Mr. Armitage sent children on personal errands during lessons. Roy said that I'd be better off at the Convent, so I went. I had most enjoyable school days at the Convent.

In Millicent I learnt the piano from Mrs. Piggott. That's when I really enjoyed playing. Before that I had to be forced to do things. I was the pianist for an orchestra in Millicent. There were around twelve people in the orchestra. My sister Beryl, who conducted the orchestra, taught music to most of them. We had two flutes, cornets, violins, violas, and two cellos. Beryl was strict. We played "Immer Weider" ‎(Night of Gladness)‎ in waltz time. We used to have open air concerts in the grandstand at the Millicent show grounds across the road from my sister's home. Our orchestra used to play, and Mrs. Castle used to sing "Jessie's Dream." She was short and that fat, but very musical. Her daughter still comes to see me.

Beryl also used to play the piano at the silent movies. But when she was having a baby, she couldn't play, so Clarrie Wilshire asked, "Why can't Thelma play?" I used to play Heller's "Tarantelle," Grieg's "To the Spring," "Moon Moths" by Kusher and Bach's "Fifth Nocturne." The films began at 8.00 p.m. and finished about 10.30 p.m. with a ten minute interval. If the film was about somebody dying, I'd play slowly and softly. I also played Clementi's works, books of studies and Kuhlaus' Sonatinas". I received 10 shillings for playing, and I was thrilled to bits. It was hard work. I played twice a week on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Beryl went back after Max was born.

I returned to Nairne when I was about 15 years old. Then I went to Mount Barker to learn from Mrs. Witcombe and went to the Mount Barker Convent to learn singing and theory.

The first theatre I ever went to see was a pantomime, "Cinderella." My sister Una took me to see it at the Theatre Royal, just down from Miller Andersons. My sister Beryl took me to see Gladys Moncrieff in "Maid of the Mountains." Beryl kept nudging me to say, "Look! Look at the moon. It keeps moving!" It moved very jerkily.

When I was fifteen my aunt asked if I would teach the piano to my cousin Norma. Then a family at Blaikston asked me to teach their three children. I used to walk from Nairne to Blaikston, near the Church of England, every week. I taught one child before tea, then had tea with them, then taught two more afterwards. I walked home about 10 p.m. The father walked part way with me because it was dark.

Thelma Chapman continued her musical activities through her life. For many years she taught piano lessons at Millicent, where she married RAF pilot Ralph Skitch. Until only a few years ago she sang in the choir at the Lutheran Home for the Aged in Payneham where she lives. Aunt Thel will be 84 years old on the 28th of June 1985.

Passed away peacefully at Lutheran Home Glynde on Monday 18th July, aged 93 years. Youngest daughter of George and Clarissa Chapman of Nairne and beloved wife of Ralph Aubrey Skitch of Millicent. Loved aunt of Una and Alan Shepherd and Bruce Boase; great-aunt of John and Beth Shepherd, David and Martha, Margaret, Graham and Marion and Bill and Elspeth; great-great aunt of Katharine, Ben, Sarah, Jim, Andrea, Steven, Kylie, Verity, David and Philip.
Aunt Thel was a special person, a vibrant spirit, much loved by all.
The family wishes to thank the staff and helpers at the Lutheran Home Glynde for 30 years of wonderful care and friendship.
In God's care.
Adelaide Advertiser