Showing your age there Moondog. Yep I remember the sheets of newspaper set aside for the great wipe. Then there were the toilet containers that the dunny man used to replace weekly, lock a lit on top, replaced it with a new can and on his shoulder lugged the full can to his truck where he had hundreds of other full containers, which he then took to some site I never chose to seek out. Great job. Also recall one toilet that was just a deep hole in the ground. I used to image (fear really) that one day I'd fall through the seat and end up drowning in my own excrement. And the flies. No wonder the outhouse was always some distance from the house, usually near the garden so the plants could mask the smell. Ah the memories.