But still, he left the books on the newly installed shelves. A list arrived from Miss Mattingale that, as well as suggested textbooks and an address to order them from, gave instructions on the number and size of desks, slates, slate pencils, lead pencils of varied thickness, coloured pencils, watercolours, brushes, drawing books, arithmetic books, copy books, glass cases for preserved specimens, a small microscope, a large telescope, charts showing each nation of the world, as well as twenty books of maps.

There were also necessities like fly swatters, a vast amount of fly paper, three mosquito nets, two fire screens, two doormats, four shoe racks, charcoal tablets, a dozen bottles of cod liver oil, needles, thread, crochet hooks, wool (‘. . . if you do not spin thread on the property’), scissors, writing paper, squared maths paper, tracing paper, trigonometry sets, fifty medium-sized glass jars, a bamboo cane, hooks for school bags, a flag pole, two Australian flags (‘. . . and the equipment to raise one every morning’), a small bugle, twelve triangles, a piano, recently tuned (‘. . . I will bring the suitable books of music’) and an admonition that there be separate ‘facilities’ for both boys and girls, which Clancy took to mean two outhouses, and paper sufficient to furnish them . . .

Miss Dorothy Mattingale arrived at the end of January, riding side-saddle, perfectly erect, in a solar topée and with a black skirt and black jacket over her blindingly white blouse, despite the heat. She was fifty perhaps, angular, with grey hair in a symmetrical bun at the nape of her long neck. She waited for one of the men to help her down. Clancy knew at first glance that neither he nor Rose would ever call her Dorothy.

But she was an inspired teacher. Within days, no student dared speak until spoken to within the classroom; within a week most of them were enthusiastically drawing lines in the sand by the river, showing off their knowledge of isosceles triangles and octagons. The cane that hung on the back of the schoolroom door had not been used and, to Clancy’s knowledge, never was. Benjamin found the rings of Saturn in the telescope mounted on the cottage veranda and even Clancy himself was impressed by the craters on the moon.

Rose had simply seemed amused by the world seen through a glass lens. But she and Miss Mattingale shared afternoon tea each day, discussing the students’ progress and which ones should be encouraged to further their education in Sydney. Martha Henderson, ‘who would make a splendid nurse’ and Sidney Smith who should be encouraged to take up an apprenticeship in this new electricity business ‘. . . for he surely has a head for new inventions’.