Stirling town was not far off, and the neighborhood was full of historical events. The battlefield of Bannockburn was close by, and also an old castle; I was told that once it was the stronghold of Bruce and Wallace. I liked to wander through the old ruins on my way home from Sunday-school. I got to like the place, and they were kind to me. It was not displeasing to me when I learned that I could stop there for a time and that my sister would live at home. I used to go home about once a month. There were no tramcars or conveyance of any kind on that wild moorland. Nothing but heather met the eye all the way from Denny to Slamannan, which was the name of the village I came from. The Edinburgh and Glasgow railway ran through it, and we could see Stirling Castle from our door.
I did not have much wages, but the mistress saw to my clothes and made some of them. I was taught to be careful and useful. One of the things I liked was to go into the shop window to hand out all the nice cake and confections. The work of bakers and confectioners has moved forward by great strides since then. For weeks and weeks the daughter of the house and myself had to help in the work-shop while some of the men and one of the apprentices were away ill with measles.
I shall never forget the first morning I went to the bakehouse. There was a long trough, which stretched the full length of the bakehouse. Overhead there was a strong beam of timber, with ropes hanging down for a balance. In this big trough I saw six men with their trousers up to the knees, and they were tramping in the dough to make the bread. I put up my hands and gave a scream, and someone threw a flour bag at my head. I felt as if I did not want to eat any more bread. I did not like the way that they made bread, but I soon got interested in other beautiful work which was done, and I had to help. What I learned then I have never forgotten.
The master told the mistress that she was not to give me any wages, as I was learning more than the apprentices. So he said I was to have no wages, but that I would have to pay him some "sil-ler" for what I was learning. When he said "sil-ler" he meant money. I knew the apprentices had to pay when they were bound for so long a period. Time went on and I was happy.
There was one daughter who had a runaway marriage, sometime before I went there to live. The old folks had forgiven her and she and her husband came on a visit. It was the first since the elopement, and everyone seemed pleased to see her again. Even I, the little maid, was allowed to enjoy the gay times. They came from Glasgow, and had seen some style in city life. The gentleman brought with him an apparatus for taking photographs. It was the first ever seen in Denny. They fixed up a studio in the garden for him, but he did not take photographs to make money, but only as a pastime. It made quite a stir in the place. Ministers and doctors and all kinds of people came to see this wonderful thing. I will add here that this was 46 years ago. Things are different now. I had my photograph taken without my knowledge.
I was sent with a cup of coffee on a tray in the morning as so many people were round that the gentleman could not come to breakfast. Just as I got to the gate I was told to stand still and look straight at what proved to be the camera. I was told to wait and get something to take back to give to Miss Isabel, and to ask her to put it in the shop window. I carefully carried back the parcel, never thinking it was my own photograph I had. It was taken on glass, and in some way it seemed to have a kind of tar put on. However, there I was, holding on to the tray, and on either side by the gate stood the doctor of the town and the Congregational minister. After I gave the picture to the young lady I could hear roars of laughing. All the bakers came running from the bakehouse to the shop, and I saw the people staring at the window. So I went to look, and when I saw my own picture was exhibited there I cried till they took it out of the window. That was my first photograph. I never saw it again.
I was interested in all I saw. It was new to me after our poor home. I had one little brother three years younger than myself, and one sister four years older. Father became addicted to drink after mother's death. It was agreed that my sister and myself should go to service in alternate years. So I was to stop at my first place for two half years, or two terms of six months each. That was how you were engaged then. If you left your place before the term expired you were liable to be arrested, or at any rate, you would forfeit your wages.
LIFE'S BATTLE BEGINS.
To me life's battles began at the age of 10 years. I was known all about as Baker Miller's "wee maid." The family all attended the Congregational Church, and I had to go also. The minister's name was Dr. Jeffrey. The "Manse" was close by, and I was often sent there with messages. Dr. Jeffrey was a bachelor. I would find him sometimes digging in the garden, dressed up very queerly. He liked to tease me about having my photograph, which was taken with him that morning at the gate. What attracted my attention to him was his hair. It was in long ringlets, hanging down on his shoulders, and parted in the middle. When he was working in the garden or preaching his hair would hang down beautifully, like that of a lady. I went to his Sunday-school, and some words from him helped me, too, to face the future.