Newry News and Irish Fun
John McCullagh 
There was a camogie team in the school but the only association I had with a caman was when one of my friends, trying to knock down some apples, threw it too far into the air and it ended up flying through the window of the headmistress’s study.
At last the great day arrived and, kitted out from head to toe, we presented ourselves to the headmistress. I was so glad that many of my classmates from the primary school were there. We seemed so small among the great big pupils. Suddenly from being the big girls in Primary, we became the wee girls in our new school.
When the ordeal of The Qualifying exam had to be faced, it was not for us the familiar surroundings of our own classroom with our own teacher. That was 1949 and we had to travel over to the new
From Second Standard (now P2) we were expected to learn how to sew and to make a hand-sewn garment. This entailed cutting out a newspaper pattern of the article to be sewn from a pattern supplied by the teacher. My first garment was an apron with a huge pocket across the front like a kangaroo’s pouch.
During my primary school days there were periodic visits from the school doctor or nurse. These visits were designed to ensure the health and welfare of school children at a time when visits to a doctor cost money that the parents of the poor could not afford. Each child was given a full medical and any deficiencies were noted for further action at the local hospital or clinic. The trouble was that away from the protection of concerned parents, the inspection – and especially the results of it – was less than solicitous of the patient and nuns and classmates often seemed anxious to advertise individual pupils’ deficiencies!
In each class pen/wiper and ink monitors were appointed. These pupils were made responsible for ensuring that inkwells were filled and for distributing pens. If you were popular with the ink monitor you got a good nib. If not, you made blots galore and earned the side of the ruler from the teacher for ‘dirty work’.
Fortunately for me, having been taught at home and being already older, I was considered suitable for Senior Infants and after a few weeks with the ‘babies’ I was moved on to Sister Coleman’s. She was a dear and I thrived there. My poor sister Patsy hated school from day one!
I was almost six years old when I started school. I don’t know at what age my aunt proposed sending me but in any case I was spotted by a couple of Walking Nuns from the Convent of Mercy, out doing their Sunday calls, and me just playing harmlessly in the street. They followed me home and upon enquiry, were horrified that I had not started school at my age!
Although I was reared by my aunts, prior to their relocation to Dromalane my parents lived only five minutes walk away and I was a frequent visitor. They had no radio so we made our own entertainment, with regular singalongs in the evenings. My father had a lovely tenor voice and he and mother knew all the old Irish melodies, as well as the songs of the day.