The Story of a Harvest Tea, 1945

Extract from “The Countryman” journal, Spring 1946

At the end of the casual workers’ season last year we had as usual our harvest tea. The “boughten” cakes must have been fairly good; and the bread and butter was helped down by some home-made preserves and potted meat. Although it was a poor spread, things being as they are in the food line, our guests seemed to understand and enjoyed it…for decorations there were flags, and the words on a rather faded portrait flag stood out, “God bless Queen Victoria.” After the tea Harriet recited “The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck” and “Dare to be a Daniel”, and sang “The Bells of Aberdovey” and “Don’t Hang My Harry; You’ll Break His Poor Mother’s Heart.” During the applause the board placed on apple boxes for a seat collapsed. There was a bit of a mix-up and it was agreed that Polly, who weighs 15 stone, should have a box to herself.

Up to this time young Tommy had had 10 cups of tea and 15 cakes, and Jim had dropped a small stone down Jessie’s back. It was thought that old Lewis should sit by himself at the next party, for he made too much noise when he ate. He hasn’t any teeth. Then, when we had sung “The Bay of Biscay”, “The Cottage on the Hill” and “The Farmer’s Boy”, Alice said she wanted to speak. After wiping her nose on the corner of her apron, she said they all knew how much she liked a drop of beer but she had liked a drop of tea today, and thank God and the master and missus for it. She added that she was never the one to eat too many of her master’s strawberries or raspberries, but she was sure that the ones that had gorged at the tea today were the same as filled their insides in the fields. Alice would have said a lot more but it was cut short by a well-aimed small potato.

You might like Temporary Accommodation - click here, it's only £1.29 to download

Comments

Woods Ware China at the Serving Hatch - The Book!

I have now put together a book to accompany this blog, featuring all the best bits and much more besides, about the development and use of village halls over the past century. It costs £1.29 for a Kindle download and £3.99 for a printed version. Here's the blurb: "Enter any village hall and look at the noticeboard. The range of activities taking place these days is enough to keep anyone entertained. Cinema evenings, keep fit classes, scouts, Women’s Institute, St John’s Ambulance, lunch clubs, support groups - all keeping the physical and spiritual on the straight and narrow. Where would we be without the village hall? What a marvellous innovation, and one that seems to grow in importance as we realise that we have lost sight of community somewhat, and need to nurse it back to life. You might, if you were in a particularly philosophical mood while hanging around the vestibule, wonder where and how it all began." English village halls have been a fixture of our lands...

The Ode to the Village Hall

I hope that some of my own poems that I have published on this blog have raised a smile of recognition. But I’m not the first to write poetry inspired by village halls. Back in 1936, the Warwick Advertiser published an article about a Mr Smith, who had written a poem about the village hall at Hatton. This was so well received by friends and family, that he had 401 copies printed, and he sold them for a pound apiece. The profits were divided between the church fund and the working men’s club fund. Hatton Village Hall - the charming inspiration Happily for us, the Warwick Advertiser saw fit to publish Mr Smith’s acrostic: T his grand village hall which can scare be surpassed H as been built by one to remember those passed E ver thoughtful of others, kind friend of us all V ery ready to help and obey duty’s call I n summer or winter, in sunshine or rain L ending a hand without seeking to gain L ooking after the sick and helping the weak A nd a kind cheery s...

Bogarde's Beginnings

Village halls played a part in the early careers of many actors – some of them becoming world renowned. Who knows just how many household names first got a taste for the luvvie life at the local amateur dramatic society. Dirk Bogarde was certainly one of them, because he wrote about his experiences at Newick Village Hall, near Lewes. Dirk’s mother made the acquaintance of a Mrs Cox, whose husband was said to own the village hall. Dirk became good friends with the Coxs’ daughter and the family took to him, allowing him to indulge his teenage ambition of becoming a playwright. He wrote, and starred in “The Man on the Bench”, supported by Nerine Cox. It was performed around the time that Nazi Germany had marched into Austria – but a sparse audience with a lot on their minds nevertheless received it well. Mr Cox offered Dirk his first leading role shortly afterwards with the Newick Amateur Drama Society – Raleigh in R.C. Sherriff’s “Journey’s End”. “It was a tremendous ...

Woods Ware China at the Serving Hatch

Search This Blog