DUSTY, tattered, an old wallet lay in its archaic home. For decades, it had carried its contents and with every passing year, its contents increased in value. At least for one man.

When Francis Morris from Ballintemple, but now living in Ballon, found the wallet, he thought nothing of it at first. But his perception changed. Upon opening it, a “fistful” of photograph negatives slipped out. A hidden treasure.

In monetary terms, they may be of little value. But for sentimental and historical reasons, they are worth a fortune.

Francis’ mother Josephine was an amateur photographer, professional in her attitude. Everywhere she went, the box camera travelled with her.

On holidays, days out, even while they worked diligently in the fields, Josephine knew that life was precious. Those moments were worth capturing.

Now, over 60 years later, that well-worn phrase “the good auld days” is brought to life. These photographs offer a peak into the lives of Carlow people from the late 1920s and 1930s.

The first of the photographs Francis produced from their new paper case was taken in 1937, when the Morris family travelled to Ballybar, Tinryland, to visit an air show.

Francis’ memories of the day are scant, but the Ballintemple/Ardattin native does remember he and his sister Rebecca “crying for most of the afternoon under the loud noise of the aeroplane engines”.

He later recounted that Rebecca died tragically in a hit and run accident in 1947, heightening even more the value of this treasured photograph.

Another recollection of his day at the air show was the many people clamouring aboard an eight-seater aeroplane, which offered his passengers an eagle’s view of Carlow. “The plane was believed to be owned by Alan Cobham,” said Francis.

For Francis and his sister, and for many more people of the time, it was a chance to see an aeroplane up close and personal. It was not only a great social event, but an historic one.

On returning this photo to its casing, Francis said he had “more old photos, but they wouldn’t be of any great interest”. On the contrary.

Of the others developed and blown up, a number recounted the saving of the corn and the hay. Hard at work, the men toiled in the fields, binding and thrashing.

Later, the bucket of soothing buttermilk was delivered. Greatly appreciated, the men sat around on their break, most likely, talking of their “good auld days”.

Francis figured in several of the pictures. In one, he stood aloof from the tractor and binder, which his dad was driving. He smiled wryly as he remembered that his father would not let him up on the tractor that day.

In another photo, Francis sits up on the horse-drawn rake, in another he stands in his farmyard with family and neighbours. All memories once trapped in an old wallet, now released to re-ignite new emotions.

But, these photographs perform another function. They are a socio-cultural diary of the late 1920s and 1930s; and a record of what life was like for a young boy in Ballintemple during that period.

One photo displays one of the great Ballintemple hunts, of the hounds awaiting for the bugle to be sound; another picture portrays the imposing, but now decrepit, Ballintemple House. Now demolished.

These photographs are a reminder that times change. That Carlow and Ireland have changed. And that Francis’ life has changed.

The life of that young boy encased in those valued photographs are now the fond memories of an older man.