‘Kookaburra sits on the telegraph wire…’

The OTL influenced language, learning and literature.

The importance of the OTL was reflected in educational books, popular culture and magazine articles written for Australian children.

From Stuart to the Overland Telegraph is a Pictorial Social Studies book first published in 1956. The book is in graphic novel format and features a large colour fold-out map at the beginning of the story, illustrating how the construction of the OTL got underway in 1870.  

Another example of an OTL children's book is The Singing Wire (1973) published just after the 1972 centenary of the OTL connection. It is a beautifully written and illustrated account of the OTL and the title comes from the term used by Aboriginal people to describe the singing sound made by the OTL. Despite this, the preface supports the colonial idea that little of any use was there before the OTL.

Learning materials, such as encyclopaedias, contained entries on the OTL and the details of telegraphy, with diagrams and sketches explaining how the messages got from one end to the other.

Educational materials produced during the White Australia era reinforced the colonial viewpoint that nothing much existed in central Australia before the OTL, and what came after was in spite of an inhospitable environment.  School textbooks and readers, which were the responsibility of government workers in each of the states, included grand statements about brave explorers travelling in, and surveying, unknown areas to prepare for the OTL, and suggesting that, if not for them, central Australia would be empty. The explorers were brave and took great risks, but Stuart particularly was a private surveyor, and success meant he would receive shiny coins. So, whatever was in the way was a nuisance that had to be ridden over. 

Children were also taught that First Nations people were either strangely disinterested in the construction of the OTL or that they were simply curious and stole OTL components from the supplies. Children also read that any issues were all smoothed over by the 'wonderful Mr Charles Todd' (page 59 of The School Magazine shown below-right). In fact Aboriginal people did resist on account of being marginalised from their own country: their important sites over-run, resources pilfered and landscape scarred. This dismissive attitude continued in Australian school books until a national curriculum was introduced in 2013, which stipulated that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people be represented in educational materials, and their experiences of 'development' be acknowledged. 

Children used their own written expression to repeat the legend of the OTL. They entered their writings in newspaper competitions, in which they swooned over their favourite OTL explorer-heroes. In 1931, May Salvano wrote to the Children's Page of The Southern Cross newspaper (Adelaide) with her essay entitled  'My favorite Character in Australian History and Why', about John McDouall Stuart's expeditions:

School students were asked to answer questions on the OTL during tests. The best essays, presumably those which reflected the textbooks and the teacher's instructions, were published in newspapers. The essay below was based on the topic 'We of the Never-Never', the student using the OTL as an example of 'Never-Never'.

But there was more. Children were also read poems about Stuart's endeavours, and the legendary people and places of the OTL. Some focused on the nationalistic nature of the work, some were about the hardship endured and the desolation of abandoned settlements.

For leisure, children could read about young protagonists who used Morse code for their spying and other play activities. In the tween fiction book Target Island (1956, 1967), Morse code messages were ‘flashing to and fro’ as Matty, Nigel and Richard prepared for a dangerous ‘run away from home’ sailing adventure to America. They had connected a wire between their rooms, to communicate securely without pesky adults listening in.

Morse code was also taught in schools for many years and this escalated during the paranoia of Cold War era. But when children started to blink in Morse code to each other during tests, educators stopped teaching the code. Kids have also used torches to signal Morse code messages to one another at night.
Boy and girl Scout groups required competency in Morse code as part of merit achievements. Badges were awarded for proficiency in the code and participants could advance to the next level or rank. This is reflective of the original ethos of Scouts, which was to prepare young people for war.

The OLT became part of children's folklore, play, imaginings, bush knowledge and games.

Perhaps you remember this folkloric play-rhyme which Australian children adapted from the Old Gum Tree song, to suit the telegraphy era. 

Play-rhymes are those which children create as a parody of existing rhymes, which they then teach to other children. Some are startlingly vulgar for folks of that size. The rhymes are then used in games, hand-clapping and other means of expression or general amusement.
As communications technology changed, so did this Kookaburra rhyme which children revised to 'telephone wire', or 'electric wire' as needed.

Tele-communications have long been the subject of elaborate play scenarios and games. Most kids have made a ‘telephone’ out of two tin cans and a piece of string. Now children can download apps to learn Morse code and send it to each other.   

Kids have always been able to make their own telegraph sets with the right equipment, though toy manufacturers understood the marketing potential of telegraphy toys and created working Morse code sets for children.

Like dinosaurs and Egyptology, many kids go through a code-cracking phase. There is something about pretending to be a spy and creating secret messages that appeals to children. It is ultimately a role-playing activity, as adults have used code as a survival tactic since ancient times. Coding is also a fun way to quickly learn and use mathematical concepts, and to torture your friends and family in their failed attempts at breaking your code!

GAMES

The telegram boy was such a ubiquitous part of life that the American board game publishers, McLoughlin Brothers, created The Game of the District Messenger Boy (1886). 

This is one of the first board games to suggest that materialism and capitalism are a means to a prosperous life. Prior to this, board games promoted Christian virtue as the path to a better life rather than what you owned and earned. The Messenger Boy game is quite like Snakes and Ladders, where if you played your cards (or teetotum) right, you could end up as the president of the Telegraph Company. Or in prison. Or both as might happen these days.

The game may look like just a fun way to pass a rainy afternoon, but it is a deliberate reinforcement of the telegram delivery 'gig economy' of the 19th century - an unregulated sector, with poor working conditions, all-night hours, few labour rights or legal protections and the possibility that the lifestyle could lead to long-term vice.