1892 - A Photographer's Visit
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INSPECTOR of AGRICULTURE VISITS FARMS

Things have been unusually dull here since the banquet, and nothing has transpired worth chronicling except the visit of Mr. Donnicliff, Inspector of Agriculture, who came immediately after the opening of the bridge, and remaining a few days visited almost every farm on the Myall and Crawford Rivers, inquiring into the nature of the forms of blight and disease which have been working so much mischief amongst the crops during the past few years. 

The gentleman in question is thoroughly qualified for the important duties he is called upon to perform, and the Department is to be congratulated upon having secured the services of so efficient and indefatigable an officer.

 

A PHOTOGRAPHER VISITS the DISTRICT

The Alum Mountain, which was noticed in your issue of the 16th inst., is in full swing, blasting and clearing out the shoot and being pushed on with all possible rapidity. Whether the fact that is was characterized in the article referred to as a local wonder, has brought it home to the residents and visitors of Bullahdelah, that the mountain is something more than a great knob of sombrous rock that towers 100Oft; above the township, I cannot say, but that is now regarded as the most interesting feature in the district, there can be no doubt. For instance, a travelling photographer has paid us a visit, and several groups of young ladies and gentlemen in the standing, sitting, and reclining positions, with the mountain as a background have been taken with very satisfactory results.

 

PHOTOGRAPHS

Wharf(PD).jpg (27412 bytes) Alex Relf(PD).gif (20462 bytes)

Lady Macquaries Chair(PD).gif (21148 bytes)

Myall River Wharf Alex Relf on the Mountain Lady Macquarie's Chair

(Click on a picture above to see a larger version.

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AN UNHAPPY PHOTOGRAPHER'S SUBJECT

In addition to these, the mountain itself has been photographed from different points of view, and the pictures obtained met with approval of all who saw them, with the exception of one individual, who works in the shoot, and was photographed while his mouth was in an unbecoming position, but I'll give you his account of the matter as nearly as I can: -

"'Well,' said he, 'I was working in the shoot, and it war putty late in the evening whon this hero photygraf.fin feller hove in sight, humpin something along as looked like a cross between a barrel-organ, a surveyor's theoderlite, and a Nordenfeldt gun. He war an innereent sort of a chap to look at, but you can't take the appearance of these coves fur much, because its part of their purfession to look as harmless as a lamb, while all the time they carry more concentrated cussedness to the square inch consealed on their person then a Sydney larrikin.

But as I war telling you, he comes along and screwin of his face inter the most angelic smile you ever tasted; he starts yabberin to the boss. After a few minutes he twists up his appyratus, on three legs and levels the muzzle of the darned thing strate at us, has if he war goin to blow us into smitherins and then he slings a black petticoat over his head, and I thort he war goin to take his own photer in the karakter of a bearded woman; but he wasn't cuss him! Then the boss sings out: -

 'Steady don't move an eyelash'

and as I was angshus to obey the govenor, I never moved a muscle, though I moren suspected there war somethink wrong with my potater trap. There war another faller working close to me, who rejoices in the name of Smith and thinks no small beer of hisself, though he's uglier than Puncher Spilit's hoss, and I war wonderin what in creashun he war sniggerin about up to the time we knocked off work; then he ses to me: -

'You'll look splendid in that picture, you will.'

 he ses, and he opened his mouth to that extent you could see what colored socks he wore, and laughed until I thort he'd bust.

Then he ses,: -

'Why didn't you wind up your mouth to its proper place before that feller got a grip of your phizog.'

'What are you drivin at?' ses I,' 'Warnt my mouth alright?'

'No,'

He ses: -

'You were a rollin of that there boulder, and it war too much for you, and you kept a strainin, and strainin, till your mouth war drawed back to your ear and ter make things wuss.'

He ses: -

'That feller is goin to exhibit these in the magic lantern on Thursday night, and you'll be the laughing stock of the whole town. I wonder what Aramanitter will say when the lantern reveals your classical mug to the public.'

Of course I didnt believe a word of it at the time, but it war too true. I went to see the lantern business, and the fust view projuced was the one in which I figgered. Well, you could have knocked me down with a pile-driver when I saw mysef exhibited in the sheet, with my mouth slued around until it appeared as if it war nothing but my right ear as kept it from going strate to the back of my head. Well, Smith war there, Aramanitter, (my girl as Smith had his eye on) war there, and the hole neighborhood, and his wife and family war there and every cussed one of them laughin at me, and I prayin fit to bust that the roof might fall in. Smith hollered out: -

 'Well old stick in the mud, how do you like your picture now?'

and Aramanitter ses with a snort: -

 'Good grashus is that your photer'

and away she goes to the other end of the form where Smith war sittin, and everyone war shoutin and hollerin somethink awful. I could not stand it no longer, so I made a rush fur the door, cleating three forms every bound, wishing I war an avalanche, a railway accident, or a volcanic eruphun, that I might send the whole darn lot into the golden future, without a moments notice. I waited outside to brain the photographer but he smelt a rat, and cleared by the back way. There has been a tremenjus run on the photer, he's sellin 'em by the score every day for whatever price he likes ter ask. Aramanitter has never looked at me since but when ever she meets Smith, she smiles at him as hard as she knows how and now I want ter know whether I can sue Smith for defamation of kuracter or make the photographer anti up a royalty on the sale of the photers."

Source: The Dungog Chronicle, 26 August 1892

Copyright © 2000, Malcolm Carrall, Archives Officer, The Bulahdelah & Districts Historical Society Inc., 20 Ann Street, Bulahdelah, New South Wales, Australia, 2423. Original content in these Web pages is copyright. Apart from any use permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be produced by any process or any other exclusive right exercised without written permission from the copyright holder. Published by Malcolm Carrall.

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