FROM "OUT-BACK."

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 2, 3 January 1934, Page 9

FROM "OUT-BACK."

CHILDREN'S HOLIDAY. (From Our Own Correspondent.) SYDNEY, December 30. One of the most interesting features of the holiday season in Sydney is always the coming of the people from "outback," who have not seen the city before. There is a special children's trip, organised by the promoters of the Far West Children's Scheme, under which a hundred children or more are brought down from the almost inaccessible seclusion of the State frontiers to see Sydney and to benefit by medical treatment during their stay. Throughout the year the Rev. S. G. Drummond and his wife, who do the actual work in connection with this philanthropic scheme, have been busy seeking out and transporting to and from Sydney sick and crippled children recommended by local doctors for treatment by specialists. Their daily average is about 60 cases, and from there they have selected a number —choosing others in the course of their ceaseless wanderings "back of beyond"—to make the Sydney trip. Last week'they brought down to the city 150 children, all from 10 to 12 years old, none of whom had ever seen the sea—few indeed, had even seen a tram before they got to Bourke. For these children come, in most cases, from remote regions far beyond Bourke, which is itself 500 miles to the northwest of Sydney, and places with such names as Paoncarie, Pokataroo, Yantara —unfamiliar even to the average Australian. Convoyed by Mr. and Mrs. Drummond they are staying at Manly for three weeks —camped in the school grounds, well fed, properly tended, bathing daily in the sea—those who require medical treatment receiving the best aid that our doctors and dentists can supply. It is a remarkable experiment, and not the least interesting feature of it is the diversity of ways in which the children "react" to the wonders around them. "Just a Lot of Water."

One small boy apparently had no great respect for the sea—"just a lot of water," he remarked disparagingly. But when the Manly boat began to pitch on its way across the Heads the children quite seriously addressed warnings to the unseen directors of its course to "keep a tight rein" and "hold her head." One little urchin, freckled, stunted, but extremely observant, surveyed the engine—hitherto entirely outside _ the range of his experience—with a critical eye. "Trains are all right," he said, in a rather contemptuous tone, "but it's funny that they sweat." And a email girl, aged 12, who had to travel 250 miles to catch her first train, admitted that while Manly is "all right," she prefers Momba any time. For Momba is her home, and though it is 800 miles from Sydney, up on the Queensland border, there are many things there that she misses here, and she is not prepared to readjust her tastes too rapidly. But interesting as the children are, the most important fact about their visit is that it represents only one feature of the many activities now in operation to ameliorate the condition of our people in the remote backblocks and to bring health and comfort to sufferers among them. This Far West Children's Health Scheme has a travelling "clinic," which, in the form of a specially-fitted carriage, is attached to the trains, and dropped off where required. It is in charge of a I trained nurse, who gives free advice and treatment; and a second clinic carriage is now being fitted out, with bedroom, bathroom and kitchenette for the nurse and consulting and waiting rooms for patients.

Baby Health Carriages. There has been a "baby health" carriage continuously in use on the Cobar and Bourke lines for about three years. It visits 16 places in every eight weeks, and during the last tour, in that period of time, the nurse in charge saw 453 babies. The doctors in the remote country towns say that already the services thus rendered are having a markedly beneficial effect upon the public health in their districts, and one can well believe it. But this, again, is only one phase of the multifarious efforts being made in various parts of Australia to bring the people "out back" into touch with civilisation and to supply them with some of its amenities and advantages. Readers of that fascinating book, "Flynn of the Inland," by lan Idriess, will know more about all this than I can possibly tell them now. The Inland Mission is a great power for good, and the realisation of the "Flying Doctor's" dream, with the advent of the aeroplane, has already changed the face of that vast "hinterland" which is still so largely unknown even to the Australians themselves. In the meantime, the Drummonds, with their 150 "kiddies," are having a splendid holiday here, and the few hundred pounds needed to give them health and happiness at least for the time have surely been well spent.