XMAS AT INNGS FARM ©

    XMAS AT INNGS FARM

Xmas time is always a joyous event in Yorkshire.
     In those days, it was always a white Xmas. In the 1950s' , the weather was quite reliable. Winter time snowed. Spring brought light showers and some sunshine. Summer brought along a little more sunshine and scattered showers. Autumn time, the leaves fell, more rain and winds and then back to winter.
     I enjoyed all the seasons. They each had something unique to offer and the events of life were moulded around the seasons. Prior to Xmas, the snows fell right on time. A snow white blanket would cover the fields and when the North winds blew they would blow the white fluffy snow right up to the wall tops. It covered everything. The trees would be sagging under the weight of frozen snow. Sometimes the whole front of Inngs farm would be covered in a snow drift.
     One morning, I remember putting on warm clothes and Wellies. I was the first out of bed. As it had been snowing hard the night before, I couldn't wait to get out in it. When I tried to open the big frond door, I couldn't even turn the old brass knob. Try as I did, it just wouldn't open. I went to call mi dad, who was by this time getting up to stoke the front room fire again. Every night, he'd put some coal dust on fire before going to bed. This would help the coal fire to keep going till morning otherwise it would have burnt out, leaving the house freezing cold. Cold damp farm house walls were not considered a luxury by anyone's standards.
"Hey dad, front doors stuck and it won't open. I can't even turn knob."
"I'll come and have a look in a minute."
     After some flames were now dancing up the back flu, mi dad came to door. He tried to get it open but it wouldn't budge.
He sez, "I'll go and get mi pinch bar out a' barn. That'll fix it."
     When he got back with the bar, he gave the old brass know a good whack and tried it again. Nothing! It didn't even budge. It was a regular practice to keep buckets of water in kitchen overnight for times such as this. Mi mum was up by now so he told her,
"Put some water on boil, wench!"
     There was only 2 taps in house and both were frozen solid. (Lead pipes froze in wintertime and sometimes they burst!) When the water was nice and hot, mi dad threw some on hinges and all around door knob. He then gave it a good, solid whack. The handle started to move. It turned slowly. Some more hot water and it was now free. He grabs his pincher bar and stuck it in gab between door and frame. It was a big gap so it was easy to get bar in.
     Old farmhouses have big gaps everywhere, especially between bottom of door and floor. Mi mum used to take old nylon stockings with ladders in 'em and stuff each one with old rags and newspapers and stick 'em in front of door to keep draughts out.
     Mi dad kept prying away with his pinch bar till door slowly opened. What a sight I saw! Nothing but snow. A wall of snow. A wall of snow where the door had been. It looked like a snow door.  The wooden door impression was left in the snow wall.
"What now day?", I sez.
"We'll have to shovel our way out. Go and grab that old shovel from feed room."
     I found shovel and give it mi dad and he starts shoveling snow into entrance room. By the time he broke through to outside there was a lot of now in house.
"Look at mi entrance doorway.", mi mum sez.
"Don't start bloody naggin' now women!", he sez. "Can't ya see I'm up to mi bleedin' head in snow?"
     Once outside, he dug all the snow away from door.
     It starated snowing again. The more he shoveled the more it snowed. He shoveled his way down field so he could get of field to go to work. I stood in doorway watchin' till mi mum came and closed door. I could see him out-a' side window a bit. He'd dug a trench right down to gate. When he got to gate and turned around it was snowing so heavy there was almost no trench left. I watched him make his way back up to house, thigh deep in snow.
"No work today!", he sez as he come into entrance porch.
     That Xmas was one of the heaviest snows for years so the old boys said.

     Next morning was Xmas morning and the snow had eased up a bit. Father Xmas had already been and gone. What a job he had in all that snow. He had left me a train set. An electric train set at that!
     A couple of  months back, mi dad had the old house wired for electricity. One of his mates at work come over and done it for a couple a' extra bob.
"One day they'll build a Booster Station and we'll buy a tele.", said mi dad.
"I'll believe that when I see it!", mi mum says.
     It was fun having an electric light bulb in house. No more smelly gas.
     I had that train set out of box within minutes. Once I knew how to put the track together and connect the small transformer, it was off! Round and round it went, a small black steam engine pulling two passenger carriages and a coal wagon. The track made a 4 foot circle. I sat in the middle and watched it go round. Round and round it went. I cranked up the speed with the transformer hoping I could derail it but it was flat out at about 4 miles an hour. After an hour of this I was getting bored. I took the train and carriages off and put them on the tracks in reverse. Round and round it went. I followed it with mi head. In the end, mi neck was so sore, I thought mi head was gonna' fall off.
"Hey mum, is this it or can it do summit else?"
     She read the instructions and said,
"If you flick that switch it goes in reverse."
     Still sitting in middle of track, I flick the switch at full speed and the wheels spin to a halt and backwards it goes. Round and round it went as I followed it with mi eyes. I thought,
'Now mi heads gonna' screw back on.'
     After another hour of this, I'd well and truly had it! This didn't look like as much fun out of box as in it. I had a bright idea. (I was always full of them.) Mi dad called 'em Brain Waves!'
     I got some matches and put them on the track, like logs, cranked up the transformer to full speed and Bingo! Right off the track it went taking the carriages with it. Now this was more like it!. Everything was going well till mi dad saw what was happening.
     He shouts out to mi mum in kitchen cooking breakfast.
"Come out here wench and have a look what this destructive little breeder of yours is doing!"
"If you do that again my boy, back in the box it goes." says mi mum.
"But it's boring mum. There's not enough track!"
"Where do you think I get money from lad? Do you think it grows on trees."
     I decided to pull tracks apart and join 'em together like a snake. Once this was done, I put the box under one end and the train on other end. 'Poo Woo, Poo Woo' as it goes at full speed along the zig-zaggin track, up the steep box and off the end dragging the carriages behind it.
'Now it's getting interesting', I thought. 'That's much better!'
"Come and have a look what this imbecile son of yours is up to now wench!"
     Soon as she saw the train and carriages crashing off the track onto the stone floor, I got the warning.
She sez, "One more stupid trick with that train and that's it! I'll take it off ya!"
     After I'd put the track back together in it's boring circle another brain wave came through.
'I wonder how it works, what makes it move and I wonder what's inside it?'
     The temptation was too much! After finding mi dads' screwdriver it didn't take very long before I had the engine in pieces. Now, all that was left was an exposed engine on wheels.
'Well, that makes it look more interesting!', I thought.
     I put it on the track, hooked the carriages on and turned the transformer know and away it went. It looked different. I could see small electric sparks coming from inside the engine. I liked it although it didn't look too expensive anymore. Soon as mi dad looked up and saw it,  he yells out for mum.
"You're not going to believe this wench. Better come and have a look what he's up too now!"
     This time, she was at lost for words (that was most unusual for mi mum).
     After ducking a couple of wild swipes, she pulls the track apart, put the track and pieces in the box and that was it for the day. No more train set!
     A couple of Xmas's later they bought me a pocket watch. That lasted till Boxing Day, before the back 'accidentally' popped off and the main string got stretched to 3 times it's normal size.

KITE FLYING ~ INNGS FARM ©

    KITE FLYING  ~ INNGS FARM

 This was one of the most traumatic experience of my life.
     It all started on a windy autumn day. At the end of our lane-way was an old church. I had been going to Sunday School every Sunday morning for some time now. On this particular Sunday, I arrived home to find mi mum with dress patterns strewn all over the floor. The old treadle sewing machine was out in the middle of room.
     The sewing machine was her tool. It also served as my source of fun. When she wasn't around, I'd pull it out from wall, roll the belt on to the wheel then take cover off top. I would then proceed to peddle the footplate as fast as it would go, pretending it was a bicycle or racing car. I was hoping I hadn't smashed the needle or something.
     Standing there, watching her cut out patterns, she said "Get your Sunday best off and go out and play."
"Now't to play with.", I sez.
"You're not staying inside and pestering me. Now, get those good clothes off and get outside or you'll go to bed for the day!"
"It's real windy out and there's now't to do."
"There'll be sum't to do in a bit lad. I'll find some jobs for ya."
     I made mi exit right on cue. After changing out of mi Sunday best, I come downstairs and just stand there watching her. Right then and there I had a brilliant brainwave!
"Hey Mum."
"What now?"
"Can you make me a kite?"
"I'm making winter dresses for your sisters. Where do you think I got time for making kites?"
"Go on mum, it's real windy and I haven't got now't to do today."
     After some good-old persistent winging and whining, she finally agreed.
"Go upstairs, in my bottom drawers and bring an old sheet."
     Off I flew, up the stairs, three at a time. Grabbed a sheet and down again, 4 at a time. I carefully put it in front of her, trying not to disturb her.
"Not this one, ya gormless bugger. It's me best flannel sheet!"
     Back up the stairs I go. 'This one's got to be it. It's got a hole in it." Down the stairs again, 4 at a time.
"This one mum?"
"Ay lad, that's it. Give it to me."
     Now the excitement was building. Even mi mum looked interested as she opened the sheet, looking for a spot with no holes in it.
"Go into the kitchen and get me a piece of dowel rod. There's some behind door."
     I looked behind door and saw two pieces. One piece was the one she used for my legs when I got her real mad. The other was a spare. I grabbed the leg-smacking one and took it out to her. She was cutting the sheet up by now but when she looked up and saw the leg cane, she sort of smiled and said,
"Not that one lad!"
     Mi mum was nobodies fool, not even mine.
     First she cut out an oblong shape from the old sheep. Then she measured the shape out sho it looked like a kite. She measured the stick and showed me where to cut it with mi dads rusty saw. When this was done, I took it back to her in two pieces. She saw a speck of blood on one of the dowels.
"Show me your finger."
"It's now't.", I sez and proceeded to lay the blame on mi dads' rusty saw-blade,  seeing as he was out in his garden.
    She cut 4 small triangular shapes of material and one larger triangle shape. She then went over to sewing machine and took lid off. After pulling the bobbin slide back, she turns to me and sez,
"Have you been playing with my machine again lad?"
"Who me mum?", came the reply.
"Yes, you lad. Who else do you think I'm talking to, the bloody cat?"
"Not me mum."
"Then how come the needles broken?"
     Mi heart sunk as I saw my kite disappearing before it was even made.
"Bring me that sewing box over here and look sharp about it. I haven't got all day to sit here making kite, you know."
     Phew! What a relief, She has some spare needles. I resolved not to peddle her machine after that. Well, maybe not as fast. After filling the bobbins, she proceeded to stitch the hems of the kite shape. Then she stitched the small triangles on the corners. When this was done, she stitched the larger triangle off-center in the middle of the other side of the sheet.
     Now it was looking like a kite! When she inserted the 2 pieces of wooden dowel, it really did look like a kite.
"Go and get a ball of string from your dads' tool box."
     Inside his feed room, the only string I could find was attached to the end of his plum bob. I decided to cut the plum bob off with one of his old chisels. I hid his plum bob in back of cupboard drawer so he couldn't find it. I'd deal with that later, I thought.
     Mum attached the string to the larger triangle on the front. She then tied a long string to the bottom of the kite.
"Go and get me some old  newspapers.", she said.
     She then folded a piece of paper in half and rolled it up into a thin tube. She tied it onto the bottom of the kite with the long string. Repeating this 4 or 5 times, the kite now had some weights on the end to balance it.
"Take these extra rolls of paper with you. You may need them to make it heavier. It it's too heavy, take some off."
"Thanks mum.", I said giving her a quick kiss on cheek, while stuffing the spare weights in mi pocket.


     Coat and clogs on, kite in hand, away I went off up back fields where it was hilly. What a great day this was turning out to be!
     Over the back wall I go.
"Dinah, you stay here today. I'll be back soon."
     She never liked being left behind. Her face always had this hurt look on it at these times.
"I'll be back soon Dinah", I sez as I go running off away from her.
     Sometimes she'd find a way around the wall or sometimes if she really wanted to go, she'd scramble up and over the top. On this day, she sort of accepted it although I could see she was none too happy about it.
     Up the hills I ran, letting the kite out behind me. The kite kept swinging and twisting around. I thought, 'Ah well, I'll tie some more weights on it when I get further up the hill.' The wind was blowing very strongly now so I decided to stop running. I pulled the paper rolls I was going to use for weights out of mi jacket pocket. I tied one under the one mi mum had put on. Throwing the kite up into the wind, I tugged on the string a few times. It soared to about 10 feet, then spun around and nose-dived into to the ground.  Picking it up, I examined it. Nothing broken. So I put a couple more paperweight tails on it. Launching the kite in the air, I ran backwards with the string, tugging it as I went. The kite hovered in the air for a while and then twisted around in circles and finally nose-dived  into the ground again.
     By this time, I was getting a bit upset to say the least. I made 2 more paper tails and put them on. I decided this time to run down hill and get up some more speed but the faster I run, the more the kite spun around in circles, eventually crashing to the ground.
     I was getting really frustrated now so I decided to tie a smallish branch onto the tail string. I launched the kite again. Up it went high, hovered for a while and then slowly decended. On and on this procedure went hour after hour. I suddenly remembered on of the Sunday School teachers saying that God helps those who believe in him. So, as a last frustrated resort, I got down on my knees, put my head on the ground, hands together and prayed.
"Please God. My name is Richard Swindells. I'm a young boy and my kite won't fly. Please help me to make my kite fly!"
     After a few times saying this prayer, I got up and took the small branch off the kite, launched the kite and started running. Up and up the kite went. 10 feet 20 feet 25 feet and then, all of a sudden round and round it spins. Down and down it comes and finally crashes, head first into the ground, knocking one of the cross sticks out of its' pocket.
     Now I was really mad! Mi mums' madness had nothing on mine now. At this stage, I was nearly out of control! Down on mi knees I go again. This time I put mi hands together and instead of bowing mi head down, I looked up with mi eyes open onto an almost perfect blue sky. I repeated the prayer again, this time for much longer. I was doing more praying than flying now. 'Two paperweights  off and one small twig on. Launch the kite and run, run like hell', I was thinking.
     Round and round I go, up the kill, down the hill. 10 feet - 15 feet, then all at once the kite spun around and made a perfect nose-dive!
'That's it! That's bloody it!' At that point I could take no more. I grabbed the kite, threw it back down on the ground, screaming and yelling, cursing and swearing, more cursing, jumping up and down. In a fit of rage and temper, I smashed the kite to bits! I jumped  up and down on the cross sticks till they were completely splintered and smashed beyond recognition.  There was no one around for miles so there was no stopping me now. It was far too late for that!
     I found a large stone. Screaming and yelling obscenities, I smashed it down into the crumpled piece of matted string, paper, twigs and cloth. Then I tore the bed sheet material into shreds. More cursing and more swearing!
     All the no-no words I'd heard the old farmers use when they thought no one was listening. I threw myself down on my knees in complete exhaustion. Now, instead of putting my hands together in the prayer position, I clenched my fists together and looked up towards the blue sky. I continued to curse, yell, scream and swear at God. I said everything that I could imagine and everything unimaginable until I was probably blue in the face! I was totally out of my mind! As I shook my fists and cursed, everything started to fade away. The cursing and swearing seemed to drift away, off into the distance. It now felt like someone else was doing it and I was just faintly hearing it from miles and miles away.
     That was it! Everything went dark and I disappeared into the darkness. I became the darkness. I was no more!
     I have no idea how long I was in that state.
     The first thing I remember was seeing a small boy on the ground, curled up in a ball. Next to him was a pile of broken wood, knotted string, rags and paper. His face was covered in dirt and his eyes were red. It looked as though he'd been crying. As I watched him, I felt tremendous compassion for him. At that point I decided to help him for as long as he lived. I have stuck to my word form that point on. I watched him slowly come around, then sit up. He turned to look at the mess of string, paper, wood and cloth next to him. Some of the string was tangled around his clogs. He ripped the string from his clogs, stood up and started to walk away. I saw him look up to the sky and heard him say,
"Fuck you God! You let me down in my hour of need!  I don't need you in my life anymore!"

     He ran down the fields and back to his house. As he jumped over the wall, he said to the dog who ran to meet him,
"Come on Dinah, we don't need him, do we lass!"
     As he walked into the house, his mother said,
"Where've you been? I've been worried sick about you, you little bugger! What have you been up to?"
"Nowt",I said.

INNGS FARM ©

 
INNGS FARM

  Mi first look at Inngs farm was a sight to behold. It erased Skoal Carr at once. Inngs farm, Parrok Nook,  was mi new address.
'Not much to remember there.' I thought.
     Mi mum gets out of LandRover to open gate. It was a big, heavy gate with a chain around the opening side. The chain was fastened to a black stone pillar. Off to the side of sone pillar was, (what's called in Yorkshire), a style. A style is a small opening at the beginning or in the middle of a wall. Sometimes they're located in the corners where the stone walls meet. Between the two pillars is a slab of stone standing upright. Sometimes, there's also a stone step each side of slab, making it easier to climb over. Styles and Snickets allow people to go through without opening gates. They also stop the animals from getting out. Cows and pigs don't like going up steps so snickets work very well.
     Mi mum couldn't open gate as it was too big and heavy for her so we all pile out and give her a hand. After closing gate, we drove straight up field following tire marks left by the previous occupants.
     Inngs Farm. It was a great whopping big farm house, in the top left hand corner of field. In the middle front wall of the house was a large door with windows on one side. On the second floor there were two more windows. Out the front of the farm was a natural spring with water trickling out into a hole with stones around it. To the side of the house was another gate. This gate led to the yard and the barn. The yard gave access to the pig styes around back of house. There was a large tree to back of pig styes and then came the back wall which was our 5 bob week boundary wall. Off to the right, at the front of the house, was the outside toilet.
     It was a very beautiful scene. Even though this farm house was also damp, it was nowhere near as bad as Skoal Carr farm house. We all jumped out of neighbors LandRover and mi dad pulled out of his coat pocket this great big key. It must have been six inches long and rusty brown looking. On one end it had a simple designed handle and on the other, 3 large looking teeth. Mi dad pushed key in the big keyhole and turned it. It was hard to turn. The lock was probably rusty as people didn't need to lock up houses in these parts, mainly because there were no thieves and partly because there was nowt to steal. If anyone had any wealth in those parts, you wouldn't know it by their appearance.
     The farm door lock resisted opening by making a squeaking, scratching sound. Then came a loud 'clack' sound. The door hinges were squeaking as  mi dad pushed big door open. Squeaky hinges were music to mi ears. Later on, I used to stand there, swinging the door backwards and forwards, listening to the sounds it made. Mi  mum and dad never did get to appreciate my musical abilities on those door hinges. Although unknowingly they both put words to mi music. "Get away from that bloody door!" and "Leave that door alone will ya. Ah, what poets they were!
     The door opened and revealed a small entrance porch. Most farm houses were designed this way. The porch was the place where hats, coats and scarves were hung. Pig-dung boots and wellies took up residence against 'tuther wall.
    Mi dad opened next door up to reveal the largest room I had ever seen. It was big enough to ride mi three-wheel bike around. Even mi dad said,
"You could ride a bike around this room, it's so big."
     To the left, against wall, was a large fireplace, much the same style as Skoal Carr. To the right was what looked like a kitchen door. Mi mum was first through this door. She looked quite happy, as the kitchen was in good shape. There was even some old oilcloth covering the stone slab floor. On the wall was a window and underneath window was a deep sink, (the cow trough type). She seemed pleased as it was quite light. Inside the kitchen were steps leading to the bedrooms. Up the steps mi mum goes, mi too and mi sisters in tow. They were shaped like an L. Up 4 steps, then a left angle turn. Open the door and continue up the remainder of steps into bedrooms. One large bedroom and 2 smaller rooms.
"Perfect!", sez mum.
     Each room had a window that looked out over green fields and walls. I could see for miles out of mi window. Green ivy was growing all over my side wall of the house. It was no problem to push the sash window up a tiny bit and reach out for the ivy.
"Close that window! Trust you to be into mischief straight away! I don't want you falling out of there." said mi mum.
      Sometimes I used to wonder about mi mum. Did she think I was stupid? I would never have fallen out of that window. I may have jumped out but that's different. The difference is, see if I jumped out and never got hurt, that was fun. If I jumped out and got hurt, well that was an accident. It all made perfect sense to  me.
     Down the stairs we go. As we went down, I noticed a dark loft. It was the under-drawing of the kitchen roof. I made a mental note that I would investigate this scary looking place, given an opportunity. Mi mum had eyes like a hawk as well as being a mind-reader.  She had  many hidden powers did our mum. She had eyes in the back of her head although she claimed she didn't.
     Downstairs, in front room again, I noticed in far corner, there was a long bench under back window. To my great surprise, there was a top hat and cane sitting all alone, just waiting to be picked up. I ran across the room and stood in front of it. I stood there and stared at it. It never moved.  I promptly picked it up and stuck it on mi head. Sometimes mi mum said I had a big head but that top had swallowed mi head as soon as I put it on. The only thing that stopped mi head disappearing was mi nose and ears. I grabbed the cane and took off running around the room,
"Look at me mum! Look what I found. Can I have it mum? I found it first mum!"
"Get that thing off your head! Take it off at once!"
"Why?", I sez, I found it first.
"It doesn't belong to you."
"Who does it belong to then?"
"It belongs to man who lived here before.", mi dad sez.
"He mustn't have wanted it or he'd have took it with him."
"He couldn't take it with him.", mi dad sez.
"Why not?"
Mi dad sez, "They carried him out feet first. That's why."
     I grabbed the had off mi head, fast as I could. Those days, in Yorkshire, when anyone died the coffin was brought to house and the body was put inside. The lid was put on with a few nails holding it down. It was then carried out the front door, 'Feet First'.
In later years, sometimes I used to see that old man sitting on that bench looking out window. I told mi mum but she she said she never saw him. Mi sister Sheila saw him a couple of times and it gave her a right fright it did.
     Mi dad went through a door in back wall next to bench so I followed him. It led into a small room with some large bins. These were obviously feed boxes. They were lined up along walls. When mi dad opened 'em, there was still some cow nuts in one and some hen mash and corn in 'tuthers.
He sez, "Well, that's handy, rum-looking feed bins they are."
     I was thinking the same only  I saw them as hide and seek places.
     Another small store-room, off to the side, revealed a load of rubbish and a large beer barrel. I looked inside, it was empty. Out the back door of feed room, opened up into a massive barn. The walls were dotted with nest boxes for hens. Scattered around were old iron plow parts. Hanging on the walls were old rotting horse harness straps. In one corner was an old paraffin incubator. Mi dad sez, "I'll fix that up. It'll come in handy for eggs and day-old chicks."
     The barn floor was covered with hen muck and dry cow clap. At one end of barn were 2 large doors that went from the floor to ceiling.  Barn doors are always big and tall so hay cart can be brought inside and unloaded. Mi dad pushed one of these doors open. It led out into yard and round back to pig styes.
     The rest of the day, and many days following, we spent moving in our new home. There was a lot of work to do, scrubbing and cleaning. The ceiling was black from the gas lights. It didn't stay clean long. As soon as they were lit, they started drawing a big black circle on the ceiling again.

   
   

DICK-LAD THE DENTIST ~ INNGS FARM ©

DICK-LAD THE DENTIST - Inngs farm

Mi sister Sandra sez to me, "My tooths sore Richard and it's loose as well, but it won't come out."
"Which one is it?"
"This one at front."
"Let me have a look"
"No, you'll hurt it."
"I promise I wont. I just want to see it."
She opened her mouth to show me and I sez, "Which one is it?" She touched the one that was loose and I saw it wiggle.
"Pull it out.", I sez
"No, it's sore."
"Don't be a big baby."
(She must have been all of 4 - 1/2 years by then)
"I'm not a big baby, I'm grown up now."
"Then let me pull it out for ya."
"How ya gonna do it?"
"I'll get mi dads' pliers, that'll get it out fast."
"All right.", she sez, timidly.
When she saw me coming with mi dads' big rusty pliers she started crying again.
"Don't be a softy! It won't hurt a bit."
That made her cry even more. It also made her jump up and down in one spot. I knew she wasn't going to agree to this game so I had to use mi head and come up with something a bit more creative and less scary.
By this time I'd made up mi mind, 'that tooth is coming out somehow!' Now another brain wave.
"I know what we'll do and it won't hurt a bit."
"What?"
I went into mi mums' sewing box and got out a bobbin of black cotton and put a slip knot in one end and tied 'tuther end to kitchen door.
"Is it going to hurt?", she sez
"No, I won't feel a thing.", I sez to her.
"Alright but if it hurts, you're not doing it!"
"Look here, you look in mums big mirror and put this slip knot over your loose tooth and when you've done that, I'll tie 'tuther end to kitchen door knob."
After that part of the operation was done I said to her, "Now you stand here and I'll push door open."
She was standing there looking at the door with her eyes wide open. Fear was all over her face.
"Don't look. Close your eyes and you won't feel a thing. It'll be out before you know it."
Soon as she closed her eyes, I opened kitchen door with a 'whoosh!' She gave a yelp and started to cry. When I examined the end of mi mums' cotton I found no tooth. The cotton had snapped right in the middle.
"You hurt me! I'm going to tell our mum on you when she gets home."
"Don't be a softie. I got another brain wave coming up."
After a lot of persuasion, by reminding her of all the sweets she could buy with the tanner (a sixpence...a nickle) from the fairies, she agreed to to my next brain wave. I went into the feed bins and I found some good strong string. It was thin enough to go around the tooth and strong enough not to break. 'This time.", I thought.
I knew she wouldn't agree to another go after this one so this one had to be it.
"Come over here and sit in mi dads' chair. Now, you put this slip knot over your front tooth, alright?"
She agreed. So far so good.
"What you gonna do with the other end? You're not going to tie it to kitchen door again?"
"No I got a better idea now. I'll make Dinah sit in front of you and we'll tie 'tuther end around her neck."
"Will it hurt?"
"Not a bit and Dinah will get to help. She'll have some fun too."
I called Dinah over. Over she came, wagging her tail, always willing to please she was.
"Now Dinah, you sit down here. That's a good girl."
After she sat down with her back to mi sister, I tied 'tuther end of string around her neck. Everything was all set.
"Now, listen to me Sandra. You hang on to arms of mi dads' chair and don't let go."
"Don't hurt me Richard or I'll tell mum on you!"
"Don't worry Sandra, you won't feel a thing. Alright Dinah, you stay there and don't move till I tell you."
Dinah was a well-trained dog and she loved being part of our games. Next, I slowly walked backwards till I reached the back wall.
"Come here Dinah, look what I got you lass!"
Dinah bounds forward. I showed her a dog biscuit. She loved 'em.
'PING!' out came tooth.
"Done it!", I yells with glee and pride.
"WAHHHHHHH!", goes mi sister as blood starts to trickle down her lip. "You said it wouldn't hurt. You promised it wouldn't hurt!"
"Well, It's out now. It won't hurt anymore."
The tooth was hanging by a bit 'a skin sticking out over the bottom of her lip. It was so loose she pulled it out her 'sen. From then on she didn't need my help.
Dinah was sat right in front of me waiting for her biscuit.
When mi mum got home and saw mi sister with a gap in her bottom teeth she asked what happened. After she heard the story from mi other sister, she gave me one of her looks, muttered under her breath and said to Sandra, "Bigger bloody fool you!"
That night the fairies came to get the tooth from under her pillow in exchange for a tanner.

DEALING WITH A BULLY ~ BOSTON STREET ` (14 years old) ©

DEALING WITH A BULLY
Xmas was on its way again so mi mum asked me and mi sisters what we would like for the occasion.
"I want a Brindle Greyhound for Xmas so I can go rabbiting on the moors." I said.
"You're getting no bloody Brindle Greyhound out of me!" sez Iris.
"Then why bother to ask me what I want?"
This type of conversation went backwards and forwards all the way up till a couple of weeks before Xmas.
One evening, Iris said to me, "You can have a Springer Spaniel if you want a dog but I'm not buying a bloody Greyhound. They look like they've never been fed for a bloody month of Sundays!"
I was not interested in a Springer Spaniel but that's what they decided to buy me for Xmas so I just had to make the best of it. I picked the puppy up from the station on the 24th of December. Although I did not want a Springer Spaniel, it was a bit hard not to like it when I opened the crate and it ran out and licked my face. It was so happy to be out of the crate as it ran around in small circles not knowing what to do.
Over the months, Raja grew into a fine dog but my heart was never in him because I always wanted a Greyhound. 'Spaniels are not bad dogs.' I thought but they're no use at catching rabbits. During the day when we were at school and Iris and Jim were at work, Raja lived downstairs in the large cellar room. It was a great big room with a concrete slab floor and a sliding window, which let lots of light in for him.

At around this time, I had devised another business scheme where I could make misen a good few bob as the price of cigarettes and sweets was always going up. Ryburn School used to run a school lunch program. Every child who wanted to eat the school dinners could do so for 5/- a week. Some kids used to live quite close to the school so they would usually go home for dinners. Boston Street was about a 15 minute run from Ryburn School. Unbeknownst to mi mother, I decided to keep mi 5/- dinner money and run home of a lunch time and make misen a cup of tea and some toast and jam. Now I had 5 bob a week extra to survive on. After I had been doing this for about a month I had another hair-brained scheme which I presented to a few of the boys who used to smoke behind the back of the Gym.

"This is how it works." I said "You all get 5 bob a week from your mothers for your school dinner, so every Monday morning, instead of paying the 5 bob to the class teacher you can pay me 2/6d and keep 2/6d for yourselves and out of the 2/6d you pay me you can come down to mi mothers place and I'll make you all 4 pieces of toast with margarine and raspberry jam on it. Oh, and one pot of tea between however many of you decide to come."
"That's not a bad idea Dick Lad." Said one boy. "4 pieces of toast and jam will be much tastier than those rotten school dinners and I'll have half-a-crown a week left for fags. I'll start next Monday!"
Before the following Monday morning had rolled around I had signed up 4 boys for my school dinner scheme. When Monday mornings arrived, each boy gave me half-a-crown, which meant I had collected 10 bob plus I own 5 bob dinner money. That meant I now had 15 bob in mi pocket. I was rich, beyond my imagination.
There was about 20 large slices in a loaf of bread. I had already figured out that I could feed all 4 boys for a cost of about 4 bob a week. 15/- minus 4 bob expenses would leave me with 11 bob a week, clear profit!

The first Monday we all met a pre-arranged area in the playground and as soon as all 4 boys were present we took off at a fast run down to mi mums house. Before we got to the top of Boston Street I told the boys that they were to go down to the front door of the house because most of the neighbors lived in the back kitchens during the day and I didn't want nosy neighbors telling mi mum that a bunch of schoolboys were seen entering her premises when she was away at work. I made each boy 4 pieces of toast and jam and a cup of Liptons' tea. After everyone was finished, I cleaned the place up so mi mum would not know, then we made our way slowly back up the hill to school, smoking and laughing and having a good old time!
Each morning, before I went to school, I would buy a large loaf of bread and hide it in mi room along with the jar of jam and the tub of margarine. After a couple of months of this, I got so good at cooking up the toast without burning it that the boys gave me the nickname of 'Toast Man'.

One day a couple of the boys decided they'd had enough toast and jam to last them till the end of their school days so they stopped coming for toast and went back to paying for school dinners. This meant I was now 2 customers short and minus 5 bob a week, which I had already got used to having, therefore, I had to go back around the school Gym wall at first break and drum up some more business.

Johnny Brown decided he would like to give a couple of week's trial and another boy, Ted Eubanks said he'd start coming down as well. Eubanks was a great big fat kid who was well known as one of the schools toughest bullies, so I didn't have a great deal of say in the matter.
The first week Brown and Eubanks paid their half crown each and everything seemed to go quite well until Eubanks started asking for more than the agreed upon amount of toast.

"Give me another couple a' pieces of toast, Swindells! I'm still hungry!"
"No." I said. "4 slices is what you’ve paid for and you've already eaten all 4. There's no more for you until tomorrow!"
"I'm not coming down here next week! I don't like like this bloody deal!" said Eubanks.
"Suit ya' self. You're the only one who has ever complained so far."
The following Monday when I went around the boys to collect their half-crowns, Eubanks said "I'm not coming down this week. I'm spending the whole 5 bob on fags. Anyway, I'm already sick of toast and jam."
"Alright, no problem." I said. "I'll find somebody else to replace you."

The following day, which was Tuesday, Eubanks said to me, "I've spent all mi money on fags so I've got now't left to buy misen some lunch with. Can I come down to your place for some toast?"
"No, you didn't pay your money yesterday, the same as the other boys did so you can't come this week. You can start coming down again next week as long as you pay the half-crown on Monday morning."
"I'm comin' down with Brownie at lunch time whether you like it or not!"
"You can walk down with Brownie as far as you like but you won't be coming in!"
When lunchtime arrived, Eubanks fell in at Brownies side and refused to leave. He walked all the way down to mi mums' house. When I let the boys in through the front door, Eubanks forced his way into the house and refused to leave. As I was making the toast and tea for everyone in mi mums' kitchen, he started to make a big nuisance of himself and made rude jokes about mi mums' house so I said to him, "Alright Ted, I'll make you a deal. If you go back out the front door, I'll push a piece of toast through the letter box for you."

After a few minutes he agreed to go out of the houses but not before I threatened to call the cops and tell them he forced his way into mi mums' house. Before he left the kitchen, because I had the upper hand over him, he pulled out his dick and stuck it in mi mums' teapot and started to laugh. He also encouraged the other boys to laugh. This made me really angry. I said to one of the other boys, "Alright, go and call the cops and if not I'll go and call them and put you all in with Eubanks!"
"Alright Swindells, I'm going." Eubanks said "But I still want mi piece of toast shoved through the letter box."
"Not before you're out of here!" I said.
Once this big fat bully was outside, I locked the door behind him.
'BANG, BANG, BANG!' He knocked very loudly on the front door.
"What do you want?" I said.
"Shove mi piece of toast through!"
"Fuck you Eubanks. I changed mi mind now!"
"I'll go around to the back door and make a commotion so the neighbors know what's going on!"
"Fuck you!" I said as I walked away from the front door.
3 minutes later he was thumping on the back door. I shouted though the letterbox to him, "Go away, you're making a nuisance out of yourself!"
"If you give me one piece of toast I'll go away quietly and not bother you again."
"Alright." I said. "One piece and that's it!"
As soon as a piece of toast and jam was ready, I said to him, through the letter box, "I've got one piece here for you and I'll shove it through the letter box if you promise to go away and leave us alone!"
"Alright, shove it through!"
I opened the letterbox door and pushed the piece of toast and jam through. Fat pudgy fingers grabbed it and it disappeared out of sight.
I thought that was going to be the end of it but after a couple of minutes he started to shout and bang on the door again!
"What d'ya want now?" I said.
"Give me some more toast Swindells. I'm hungry!"
"Go away. You've already had one piece and your reneging in the deal!"
"I'm not going until you give me another slice!"
As I was watching the toast cook, I noticed a slice that had a large air-bubble in it but the whole didn't go all the way through to the other side. I had a brainwave!!
"I'll get rid of him." I said to the boys.
"What ya gonna' do Dick?" said Brownie.
"Just watch me and you'll see."
Opening mi mothers' cutlery drawer, I took out an old butter knife and opened the cellar door.
"Don't feed that piece of toast to the dog, Dick. I'll eat it."
"You wont' eat it when I'm finished with it!" I said.
"Where ya going with the toast and knife, Dick?"
"Come on and I'll show you."
When we all got down the cellar steps Raja was happy see us all and I was happy to see what Raja had left on the cellar floor! Bending down over a large solid dog turd, I sliced a big piece off of it and pushed it into the air bubble hole in the piece of toast.
"Lets go back upstairs." I said, amidst 3 loud, laughing voices.
"Now what?" said Brownie.
"Now I'm going to cover the dog shit with a liberal serving of margarine and jam."
"Then what?"
"Then, I'm going to push it through the letterbox for Eubanks. Just watch!"
"Eubanks!" I called out.
"Where's my toast Swindells?"
"Coming right up Teddy." I said. "Open the letterbox!"
The letterbox opened and I pushed the dog shit sandwich through. The fat fingers grabbed it and the letterbox snapped tightly shut.
We all sat down at mi mums table and waited for the results. Eubanks voice boomed through the letterbox again.
"That was really great! Give me one more slice and I really will go this time Swindells. I won't bother you anymore after that and I won't beat you up either!"
"Alright Ted but this is definitely the last piece! All right?"
"All right Swindells, it's a deal."
After toasting a piece of bread I dug out a large hole in one side of it and then went back downstairs in the cellar and filled the hole with some fresh dog shit spread. Back upstairs I covered the dogshit spread with another liberal amount of margarine and jam.
"Last piece coming through Ted!" I said, as I again pushed the slice of toast through the letterbox door.
Everybody maintained silence again as we listened for Ted crunching down on the dogshit sandwich. After he'd finished he called through the letterbox, "Thanks Swindells, that was great. It'll keep me going until 4 O'clock this afternoon. You're not a bad bloke after all! It will save me the trouble of beating you up now. I'm off! See you all later. I watched him walk past mi mums' kitchen window and off up the street he went.
"Alright, the coast is clear. Eubanks has gone!" I said.
Raucous laughter burst out of everyone for about 10 minutes.
"That was really a good show Dick", said Tony Steele.
"He won't stick his dick in mi mums' teapot again for some time!" I said, between laughs.
"Come on, let's get cleaned up or we'll be late back for school."
Later on that afternoon, Johnnie Brown came to see me at one of the school breaks.
"Ted's after you Dick. He's gonna' punch your head in after school!"
"Why would he be after me?" I said. "The last time I saw him leaving mi mums' house he was all right towards me?"
"He knows you put dog shit on his pieces of toast!"
"Well, if he found out, it must have come from you."
"It just sort-of slipped out when we were talking in class." Brownie said.
"Like hell! You told him on purpose Brown! Here's the rest of ya weeks dinner money back. I don't want to hang around with you anymore. You're either for me or against me so it's pretty plain to me that you're against me, which is alright by me because at least I know where I stand with you now!"
Brownie was not too happy about what I said because I told him the Truth.

Eubanks was waiting for me with his cronies when I came out of class at 4 O'clock. I had to dodge around him so as not to get beaten up. I gave Eubanks the slip for about 2 weeks until finally one evening; him and his mates were hiding behind a wall in wait for me!
When he finally grabbed hold of me he gave me 2 or 3 hard punches before I was able to get away. Brown showed his true colors because he was with Eubanks at the time, egging him on and laughing.
I was determined that Eubanks would not make me cry and as soon as he let go of my Blazer, I made my getaway at top speed. Eubanks was a fatty so he could not catch me, although he tried.
"SCREW YOU EUBANKS!" I said as I ran down the road. "YOU TOO BROWN!"
"I'M GLAD YOUR TATTOO GOT FUCKED UP. YOU DESERVE ALL YOU GET!"

A PIPE STORY ~ INNGS FARM ©

A PIPE STORY ~ INNGS FARM

"Hey mum."
"What do you want now?" she said. "Can't you see I'm trying to do the bloody washing Richard? Get out from under my bloody feet before I give you a four-penny one."
"Can I go over to Spencers' place?"
"Please, may I go over to Mr. Sharps, is that what you mean?"
"That's what I mean."
"Little children do not call grown ups by there first names. How many bloody times do I have to tell you lad. What's the matter? Do you have wax in your ears?"
"No mum. I don’t." Had I have said yes she would have taken the corner of the towel, twisted it into a point and shoved it in mi ears and twisted it around two or three times in each ear.
"Well, can I go or not?"
"Go on then." she said. And mind your manners while your there. Oh! And by the way, if Mrs. Sharp asks you if you would like a biscuit, say, "No thank you Mrs. sharp I've just eaten, thank you". Are you listening to me Richard?"
"Course I am. I'm all ears mum."
"You'll be all bloody, red ears in a minute lad. Go on, bugger off before I change mi bloody mind."
"Thanks mum I said, you're great!"
"Don't tell your sisters where you're going or they'll want to go to. Make sure you're back here at four O'clock, do you hear?" she said.
"Yes mum." I replied, as I ran out of the farmhouse back door and through the chicken barn at full speed. "Look out!" I yelled as chickens scattered everywhere. The old rooster eyed me with suspicion as I tore past him. He had buckleys chance of catching me today. Tomorrow might be a different story.

Spencers' farm was a four-minute run from our front door. I'd done it many times before. The only thing that could slow me down was one of the other farmers walking their cows down the dirt lane. Were that to happen, I'd have to slow down otherwise I'd spook them and the farmer would yell at me or swing his stick at me. No cows today in the lane so I made it to Spencers in four minutes. As I skidded to a halt in mi old clogs, Spencer and his dad were standing in front of his mistle door.
" 'Ows ta goin' Richard lad?" said Spencer as he put his hand in his top pocket and pulled out his old pipe.
"Good, thanks Mr. Sharp." I said.
"How's your mother keeping?" said Spencers' dad as he belched a large puff of smoke out of the side of his mouth.
"She's all right. She's doing the washing so I thought I'd come over here, out at way or she would have made me turn the handle on mangle while she fed the sheets in."
"Good thinking." said Spencer, as he tapped the bowl of his Billiard out on the heel of his hand.
"That's womens' work." said Spencers' dad as he struck a Swan Vestas and lit up a shorter looking straight-shanked pot. "Ya better off with us for afternoon. You can help us muck mistel out. That'll put some muscle on your arms and hair on ya chest. You'll grow up big and strong just like our Spencer.

Spencer laughed and said, "Don't go putting too many bright ideas in his head, dad or
his mother won't be none too pleased with us."
Spencers' dad was a big man. He always wore a flat cap and a long brown smock coat, moleskin trousers and Yorkshire clogs. Spencer was a clone of his dad and a bit taller as his dad was stooped over slightly, owing to his age. He looked like he was in his late seventies. That said, he always worked a full day on the farm along side of Spencer.
"Are ya gonna' fill ya pipe up?" I said to Spencer.
"I'ye, there's nout but ash and dottle left in it."
"Can I rub ya 'bacci up for ya, Mr. Sharp?
"I'ye ya can Richard lad, just be careful and do it like I taught ya and don’t over rub it."
With that Spencer pulled out a stick of Black Twist from his smock top pocket. He then opened his small, silver two- bladed knife and proceeded to cut off three small slices. "Here ya go lad, and don't tell your mother your rubbing up pipe tobacco or she'll be after me."
"No way Mr. Sharp! I don’t tell her stuff like that, she'd give me a thick ear."
"How old are you now Richard said Spencers dad."
"Six." I said. "How old are you?"
"Me? Almost eighty."
"Have you been smoking all your life?"
"I'ye I have that lad. I've gone through quite a few pipes in mi time and never had a days illness in mi life."
Is that all right Mr. Sharp?" I said, as I handed him a bowl of black twist.
"Perfect, couldn't have done it better misen."
He proceeded to load the black twist into his old Billiard. After this was done he struck a small Swan Vestas and held it over the bowl. After the twist started to smoke a bit he tamped it down with his forefinger.
"Doesn't that burn ya finger?"
"No, I've got a hard callous on it from years of doing it."
"I wish I could smoke. I love the smell of it!"
Tell ya what I'll do with ya." said Spencer. "I'll give ya one of my old burnt-out pipes but I'm not giving you any tobacco to go with it. You're too young to start smoking.
"Oh great! Thanks a lot Mr. Sharp, I'll look after it. I promise!
With that he fired up his pipe again and headed for the farmhouse. You're a lucky lad said Spencers dad. "Spencer didn't get his first pipe until he was eleven years old."
"Did you buy it for him?"
"I'ye, I did. He kept sneaking off with one of my pipes so it was easier to get him his own."
A few minutes later Spencer came back outside and said, "Here you are, its old and burnt-out but it was a good old pipe in its' day. I've had many a good cool smoke out of her."
I took the pipe from Spencer very carefully, "Thanks again Mr. Sharp. I'll look after it just the same as you did. I won't drop it and break it. I'll be real careful with it."
"Come on then lets go and muck out yon mistle while the cows are still in the field."

"How do mum!" I said, as I casually strolled into our farmhouse with mi new pipe hanging out of the side of mi mouth, just like Spencer did.
"What the bloody hell is that thing hanging out of your mouth?" she said as she turned around with a look of disbelief on her face.
"It's mi new pipe that Mr. Sharp just gave me."
"Get that disease ridden, bloody thing out of your mouth, you bloody imbecile. Who knows what the hell you'll get from it."
"It's mine and it's not disease-ridden. If it was, Mr. Sharp would be sick and he's not!" "Throw that stinking thing in the fire! That’s all it's good for!
"No! It's mine! Mr. Sharp gave it to me."
"All right lad, soon as you go to bed tonight I'll chuck it in the fire misen. Smoking a bloody pipe at your age, what's this bloody world coming to. Where are you going?" she said, as I ran out of the house.
"I'm just going to play around in fields!" I yelled back at her.
"Don't be long! Ya dinner will be ready soon and you'd better not let ya dad see that stinking pipe or he'll light fire with it in morning!"

Once I got away from her I headed off down the bottom of our field, out of sight, I already knew what I was going to do so I started looking for a loose stone in the wall. At long last I found the right stone that I could carefully remove without the wall collapsing and squashing mi new pipe. Once the stone was out of the wall, I gently put mi new pipe in the hole, made sure nothing would fall on top of it and carefully put the stone back in place.
'That's it', I said to myself. 'No one is going to find it there. It's as safe as houses.'

"You won't want to know what our Richard brought home today." said mi mum, as mi dad walked into our house.
"Don’t bloody tell me, wench, I would not be surprised what that bloody village idiot of a son of yours has been up to."
"You're in a lovely mood George. Have a bad day at work then."
"Bring me a pint pot of tea wench. Bloody kids! He said as he sat down in his armchair and unfolded his newspaper. ''Bloody kids'' he muttered again from behind his paper. "A man must need his head examining, never a moments peace with kids in the house."

The next day I took off down the field to check if my pipe was still where I had left it. I soon found the place in the wall as I had marked it with a lump of grass. Very carefully, I eased out the small black wall stone shoved my hand inside the hole and grabbed hold of the stem. Carefully inspecting it, I then stuck it in mi mouth and gripped it with me back teeth just as I had seen Spencer do. Next I took it out of mi mouth and started to talk to misen and at the same time I pointed and jabbed the air with it to make a point. This done, I stuck it in me mouth again and walked around the field a few paces. Whilst I was taking a long imaginary drag on it, I got a bit of black twist caught in the back of mi throat. It tasted putrid so I hacked it up and spat it out. I then did a relight, as by this time it had gone out. After an hour or so of 'make believe', I was getting bored. I needed something more authentic so I put on mi thinking cap. It wasn't very long before I came up with the bright idea of Brook Bonds tea leaves. That should give me a good strong full-bodied satisfying smoke. I put the pipe back in the wall replaced the stone and made mi way back to the house. Mi mother wasn't around so I gave her a good loud shout 'Mum, hey mum! Where are you?"
I'm up stairs cleaning up the bedrooms what the hell do you want now Richard?"
"Oh nothing. I just wondered where you were."
"Go back out side and play or I’ll find you some bloody work to do!"
"All right then, see you in a couple of hours. I'm off!"

No answer. I found a small piece of newspaper and very quietly made mi way to the kitchen cupboard where she kept the tea. I had to stand on a chair to reach it but that was no problem for me. Opening the cardboard-box-lid, I poured a small amount of tea leaves into the newspaper. Next, I closed the tea box lid with one hand and replaced it exactly as I had found it. I folded the newspaper up and twisted the corners around. I put the chair back where it belonged and took off outside.
'Oh Hell!' I forgot the matches.' Back inside I go, hoping that mi mother was still upstairs. It must have been my lucky day, she was nowhere in sight. I grabbed a few matches out of the box and made another fast exit! Running as fast as I could, I made my way over the field to where the old pipe was hidden. In no time at all I had it out, in mi pocket and replaced the stone. Off I went, at full speed, over another wall and flat out to another hiding place I had. Once I reached my destination, I took the pipe out of mi pocket and threw misen on the ground, rolled over and caught mi breath. Taking the tea leaves out of mi shirt pocket I very carefully poured the contents into the palm of mi hand and rubbed them up a bit. By this time they were nearly powder so I proceeded to load up the bowl, scooping the tea leaves into the bowl and pushing them down like Spencer did. The pipe was loaded up and ready to go. I took one of the brimstone matches out of mi shirt pocket and struck it against the stonewall. It flared up and as soon as the brimstone had burnt away I held it over the tealeaves and sucked in. The pipe, unlike Spencers', lit straight away and as I sucked in the tea leaves caught on fire, and a stem full of tea leaves filled up my mouth and the back of my throat. Hacking and coughing I spit out the nasty tasting tea leaves.
Once I had coughed up all the tea leaves; I was very disappointed. I decided to give it another go. It was not supposed to be like this, Spencer did not hack and cough up his guts when he drew on his pipe. Firing up the pipe again I gave a couple of good hearty draws on it, the same thing happened again. The only difference this time was, I sneezed, and snot and tea leaves flew out of my nose, it landed on mi shirt. My face and shirt were probably a sight to see, my eyes were burning and tears were rolling down my cheeks. I decided I had smoked enough for the day; probably I'd smoked enough for two days. Wiping my nose on the sleeve of my shirt and knocking the burnt Tea Leaves out of the bowl on the palm of my hand, I made a move to get up. As soon as I exerted some effort my head started to spin so I had to remain where I was until the field stopped spinning. As I sat there, leaned against the wall, I started to wonder what it was that Spencer got out of pipe smoking. I made a mental list of a few questions that I would need to ask him, next time I saw him. Finally I was able to get up and walk around without wobbling from side to side so I made mi way back along the fields to where I hid mi pipe. As I removed the black wall stone and put mi pipe back in the hole I decided that I was going to learn the art of pipe smoking even if it killed me.


As I walked in the house mi mother was sweeping the floor.
"Where the bloody hell have you been lad? You were supposed to be home a bloody hour ago. Go feed the chickens and the pigs before you father gets home, and what the hell have you done to your shirt? It looks like you've got bloody Tea leaves all down the front of you. Well go on then, don't just bloody well stand there lad! Get moving before I give you a thick ear, and hurry up your dinners nearly ready."

MI FIRST PAID JOB ©

 MI FIRST PAID JOB 

 Not long after we’d moved into Jubilee Terrace, I was on one of the many errands I ran for mi mum. As I walked through Ripponden, I was reading through the shopping list mi mum had given me. When I saw a notice on the newspaper mans’ shop door. It said:

WANTED

BOY FOR NEWSPAPER DELIVERIES.

APPLY WITHIN

     I stood reading the notice for a few minutes as I thought about the possibility. ‘Why not’, I thought. ‘It can’t hurt to ask and if he sez ‘NO’, I’ve lost nowt’.

     The bell above the glass door tinkled as I pushed it open and went inside.
“Can I help ya?”, sez an old grey-haired lady.
“I’ve come about the job advertised on your door.”
“Just a minute, you need to speak to my husband.”

     Her husband was at the back of the shop writing in a large book. As she spoke to him, he looked up at me, over the top of his half-frame glasses. Pushing his chair back from the desk, he came over to the counter and said,
“Mi wife sez you’ve come about the newspaper round.”
Yes, can you tell me something about it first?”

     The Newsagent was a small man with a large, balding head. His eyebrows were very bushy and a long yellow pencil stuck out from behind his ear. He wore a collarless shirt. Over the shirt he wore a maroon jacket with several more pens and pencils sticking out of the top pocket. His hands were quite dirty from the ink off the newspapers and on his thumb he wore a rubber thimble with tiny points protruding out of it.

“How old are you lad?”
“10 and-a-quarter”, I sez.
“Oh that’s good, cause you’ve got to be over 10 to hold a paper-round. Have you ever delivered papers before lad?
“No, this will be mi first time.”
“Well, that doesn’t matter. We can always train you up for a week or two. Are you honest?”, He says, as his bushy eyebrows came together when he peered down at me over his specs.
“Course, I am! I haven’t stole nout in mi whole life.”
“Very good. That’s what I like to hear because Saturday mornings you’ll have to collect the money for the weeks papers and if you’re short, it’ll come out of your wages…do you understand?”
“Yes.”, I sez.
“Alright lad, just let me talk it over with my missus. What’s your name anyway?”
“Richard.”
“Mine's Mr. Sutcliff. I won’t be long.”

     Mr. Sutcliff turned and went over to his wife and had a chat to her. As they were talking, I noticed her look over at me a couple of times. Each time she looked, she gave me a faint smile. After they finished talking, Mr. Sutcliff came back over to the counter and said,
“The job’s yours, if ya want it lad.”
“Alright.”, I sez. I’ll let you know first thing in the morning cause I’ll have to ask mi mum first.”
“Make sure ya come back early in the morning and let me know or I’ll have to find someone else. I hope you’re good at getting up in the morning cause I’ll expect you here Monday till Saturday at six o’clock sharp. The job pays 10 shilling a week. See you tomorrow morning. Oh, and one more thing, don’t ever let me catch you pinching sweets off the counter when you think I’m not looking cause I’ve got eyes in the back of mi head!”
     I gave him a smile and said, “So has mi mum and so have I.”

     The bell tinkled as I opened the door and as soon as it closed and there was no one looking I jumped in the air and stuck mi 2 clenched fists skywards!

     After I’d done mi mums’ errands, I ran home with the shopping as fast as I could. As soon as I got in the back door, I yelled out for mi mum.
“Hey mum, mum!”
“I’m upstairs, in the bedroom!”, came the loud reply.
I bounded up the stairs, two at-a-time and into her bedroom where she was cleaning.
“Hey mum, guess what?”
“Hey Richard, guess what?”. She sez.
“What?”, I sez.
“Guess what you’re gonna’ get if you don’t learn to walk up those bloody wooden stairs more quietly. Old Mrs.Dicksen, next door has had a headache, nonstop, since you kids came to live here.”
“Hey mum, I’ve just got mi'sen mi first paid job!”
"What the hell are you talking about now lad?”
"Old Mr. Suttcliff gave me a job delivering newspapers for him."
"Oh that's nice. He just happened to know who you were and came up to you on the street and said, would you like to deliver newspapers for me?"
"More or less."
"You must think I came down in the last bloody shower Richard! Now, what really happened?"

     After I told her about going in his shop for the interview, I said,
"Can I do it mum, please?"
"Oh, I see you've learned some manners all of a sudden lad. And who, may I ask, is going to get you out of bed in the mornings for this new job of yours and what, pray may I ask,
time do you have to be there?"
"Not till six O'clock Monday till Saturday."
"Six O-bloody-clock! You have a hard job getting out of bed in the mornings at 7:30 and if I was fool enough to bring you a bucket upstairs for a pee you'd still be there at lunchtime! How much is he going to pay you for the job?"
"10 shillings a week - cash!"
"And what do you suppose you're going to spend 10 shillings a week on besides sweets and fags, or shouldn't I ask?"
"I haven't thought about it yet. I was just too excited about getting the job."
"When do you have to let him know by?"
"Tomorrow morning, early, 'cause if not, he'll give the job to someone else."
"And what about school or did you forget about that?"
"I didn't forget. He's gonna' give me all the details tomorrow but the job must finish in time for school because he has other boys who deliver for him too."
"Go back and see him tomorrow and tell him, before ya mum says yes, she wants to know more details, alright?"

     After the details were worked out and mi mum agreed to me doing the paper round, as long as I saved all the money I made to buy misen some new clothes.

     Monday morning came and I was at Mr. Sutcliffs shop at 5:55. All the mornings' newspapers had been stacked in order of delivery, and then put into a large brown canvas paper carrier with a shoulder strap and a big flap that covered the papers so as to keep them dry on wet mornings.

     At around 6:05 a little bit older boy than myself arrived who was going to teach me the paper round. He spoke to Mr. Sutcliff for a few seconds, and then Mr. Sutcliff scolded him for being late again. Turning to me, the boy said,
"OK, let's go!"

     As we walked out the shop, I was thinking about what he said. He said "OK"…OK was not allowed in our house. If I ever said, "OK", mi mum would chuck a fit.
"Who the hell do you think you're talking to in that American slang? OK is not a word. It's not even English and you're certainly not a bloody yank, so don't let me hear you using that garbage language again or you'll get a bloody thick ear! Do you understand me?"

"I'll carry the bag today kid and you carry it tomorrow, OK?"
"Alright, it sounds fair enough to me"
"If you watch me you'll be able to finish the round in about an hour and 20 minutes. If not, it'll take you 2 hours, OK?"

     As we took off walking he said, "First, you got to learn how to throw the paper so it doesn't unroll but don't get caught 'cause if old 'Sooty' finds out, you'll get the boot like me, OK? Now, this house has a big dog so be careful 'cause if he gets hold of you he'll rip ya balls off. OK? This house, has two old ladies who are almost deaf so don't bother to chuck the paper here. I go through the gate and leave it on the step, then steal a bottle of milk on the way out, OK?"

     On and on we went until we finally came to the end of the paper round. By this time we were well passed a place called Cunning Corner.
"What now?", I said.
"Sooty gives me some bus fare so I can ride back to Ripponden on the bus but if you want to run back we can spend the fare on some fags and split 'em, half & half. OK?"
"OK"
"Now you're talkin' my language!"
Off we ran at top speed, back to Ripponden to another shop that he knew of where we bought some Woodbines with the bus fare.
"Why aren't you doing the round anymore?"
"Well, old Sooty caught me stealing some of the collection money, plus I got a better round with the other shop. More money and more perks! OK?"
"OK, see you in the morning."

     It didn't take very long for me to learn the paper round and although it was a very difficult job I enjoyed the fact that I was now earning some money. Oldham Road was a long, flat, windy road that went around a big hairpin corner at Slithero Bridge. Seeing as mi dad went to work much earlier these days, sometimes I'd run into him on mi way back from the paper round. On occasions Mr. Sooty would sometimes make a mistake and put too many papers in my bag, so at those times, I felt quite good about giving mi dad a free mornings' newspaper.

     When the weather was fine, the paper round was fine and when the weather was bad the paper round was also bad! On occasion, it would be pelting with rain and I'd be soaking wet even before I got to the first delivery. Some of the houses I delivered to were built on a steep hillside, which ran down to the pavements' edge. This meant it was not possible to throw the newspaper over the fence and into the doorways. These types of houses always had a large number of steps to walk up which were very difficult to negotiate when the weather was icy and cold.

     Past mi dads' work and around the hairpin corner there was a boys' private Grammar School. It was a massive, old Victorian building that stood on its own well-kept grounds. Each morning I passed the Grammar school, I'd dawdle a few minutes so I could look through the fence bars, into the grounds area. The whole front of the building was surrounded by beautifully kept green lawns and flowerbeds. Small shrubs encircled the perimeters of the lawns. Most mornings I would see the grounds men in their overalls mowing or trimming the edges of lawn or tending to the weeds in the outer gardens.
     The school building itself was a large, two-story place with dormer windows running at intervals along the long steep top. The outer stone walls were made of quarry-cut square stone and, in places, Ivy had been allowed to grow up as far as the dormer windows. Sometimes the old school reminded me of a military-type building as everything was in such perfect order and spotlessly clean.

     On my way back from the paper round, I would walk along the same side of the road as the school. Some kids, obviously, didn't live there as I used to see them arriving in their flash, luxury cars. At those times I would walk quite slowly past the large, double, wrought iron gates so I could get a glimpse of what it was like to be a rich families boy. The sleek Jaguars and silver Bentleys would glide up to the large gates in the private driveway. Sometimes a chauffer, dressed in a dark blue uniform and cap would get out of the car and then walk around the side to open the door for the rich schoolboy to step out, at his leisure.

     The private school uniforms were burgundy and grey with long trousers. As I stood around and watched, I was wishing for the day to come when I would be allowed to wear long trousers.

     On rare occasions, I would sometimes see a few Grammar School boys riding the upper deck of the Halifax bus. As they sat and talked with each other some of them would pull out a cigarette from a shiny silver cigarette case and say to their friend,
"Would you care for a cigarette, old chap."
"Don't mind if I do, old boy. You'll have to try one of mine next time. I'm smoking Benson & Hedges these days. They're quite an acceptable brand you know."

     When the Bus Conductor came around he would never dare to tell the rich boys, "Put those fags out or I'll make you pay full fare."
     Pulling their leather wallets out from their inside Blazer pockets, they would flash a school pass along with a few large, colored bills. I could see that this very natural action from the private school boys would keep the old bus conductor in his place as they probably had more spending money in their leather wallets than the bus conductor made in a fortnights work plus over-time.

     When the bus conductor had collected all the fares plus my half-ticket contribution, I would pull out one of mi 'Willie-woodbines' from its cardboard five-pack and light up. It was one of my favorite habits, to sit there looking out the top windows and listen to the their posh-speaking language, so as to hear how the other-half lived. After some time, this little habit would get me down so I'd dismiss it with a 'Lucky buggers, they don't even know they're alive and it would probably kill 'em if they had to get up every morning to do my paper round for a few extra Bob'. This thought would always make me feel a little bit more at ease as I sat amongst the rich kids.

     Some mornings, I'd jump out of bed and look out the window to find it had snowed very heavily overnight and was still snowing large, fat, white flakes. It almost looked as though someone was on our rooftop dropping pieces of cotton wool down past my small window. On the snowy mornings I would not feel like venturing out at a quarter to six, so as to be in Ripponden at 5 to six.

     Old Mr. Sooty would always have the newspaper bag full and ready to go, no matter what the weather was like. When the snow was deep he'd say to me,
"Just do ya best lad and deliver as many papers as ya can and what ya don't get to deliver, bring back and I'll give 'em to postman to deliver later on."

     There were times when I could have brought half the papers back but I knew that Oldham Road was a part of old Jack the Postmans' route and if I didn't deliver them old Jack would have to lump my extra papers around.

     On Saturday mornings I'd set off at 7 O'clock, instead of 6. That was so I wouldn't be too early at peoples houses and it would give 'em time to be up so they could pay their weekly bill. Saturdays always took twice as long because I'd have to knock at each door and say, "I come to collect the paper money." This was a way some boys would make money. They'd get up earlier than the usual paperboy and knock on peoples door carrying and old newspaper bag and a small red book and pencil. When the door opened they'd say,
"The usual boy is off sick today so I'm collecting for him. Just write down the weekly fee and sign your name on the right-hand side opposite it."
     This little scam used to work for a week or two until one day someone, unknowingly, knocked on a local Policemans' door.

     Sometimes, when the weather was bad, some of the customers would give me a small tip. I would never dream of stealing from them as the other boys did but I did find out that by saying I had no change yet, some customers would say,
"Oh well, it's only 3 pence. You'd might as well take it for a tip as you've given us good service so far."
     At other houses, I would try the same stunt but they'd say, "Just wait a few minutes and I'll go back inside and look for some change." Or "I don't have any change so come back next week and I'll pay you double." This little action caused two things to happen, it made me late finishing and it made old Mr. Sooty mad 'cause the customer didn't pay.

     Another little trick some boys would play was to tell the customer,
"You didn't pay last week so it's double this week."
If the customer insisted he did, the boy expressed his apologies and would say,
"It's my fault, I must have forgotten to write it in the books."
If the customer said,
"Oh, I must have forgot to leave it out for you. Just a minute and I'll get some more money for you." Then the paperboy had 2 shillings extra in his pocket!

     Some paperboys would even steal the milkmans' money that had been left under the empty milk bottles for him. These types of boys only lasted a few weeks before they got into big trouble and also got the sack.

      I'd been delivering my papers for quite a few months now so between my paper-round money and the odd tips, which I usually spent on sweets or fags before I got home, I now had a good few pounds saved up.

     Each cold morning I'd go out delivering papers, I'd be dreaming of the tin of money mi mum had hidden from me in her bedroom somewhere. 'Maybe I'd buy misen a Raleigh racing bike or better still, maybe I'd buy a racing greyhound so I can make more money. Then again, if I keep saving I can open my own cobblers shop like old Mr. Smith. Maybe I'll buy a high-powered air rifle or some breeding ferrets so as to make more money off 'a young-uns', and the sale of the rabbits I'll catch! Or better still, I'll buy misen an expensive leather motorbike jacket and put silver studs all over it and then buy some ice-blue jeans and a pair of burgundy and blue suede 'brothel-creepers' with some luminous pink or iridescent green socks, a leather belt with a large brass buckle and a long silver heavy-duty chain hanging off it and I'd be the 'Vicars-Knickers' or 'Jack the lad' or the 'Cock-of-the-North' struttin' around the village for everyone to see!'

     Now, the dreams of mine never came to pass because mi mum had plans of her own for my money and mi dad was the designer of her plans! One day, I said to mi mum,
"I must have ten pounds in mi savings tin now mum, so it's time I spent it on something."
"Oh yes. And what do you have in mind for your life savings?"
Without the least bit of hesitancy I ran through my list of requirements and after I finished she said, "You can forget about that list of dreams. If you spend that money you can buy yourself a good 3-piece suit so you have something decent to go out in!"

     I felt like I'd just been hit on the head with the Judges wooden hammer as mi mind stopped and I saw an image of the greyhound chasing the racing bike and the Ferret sat on the shiny saddle as the bike tore past a Teddy boy stood at a bus stop!

"No", I said. "I won't do it!"
"Then you won't go on the paper round anymore if you think I'm getting you up every morning in all types of weather so you can spend all that money on a lot of old rubbish, then you've got another thing coming my boy!"
"You don't have to get me up anymore.", I said. "I'll get misen up from now on so I can spend mi money on what I like!"
"Oh no, you'll do nothing of the sort. I'll get you up and you'll spend the money on what I tell you 'cause I'm your mother and what I say goes. You'll have no say until you're big enough to bring enough money into this house so as to pay for your rent and food and that’s that! I don't want to hear another bloody word about it or else!"

     With that, I stormed off up to my room and gave the stair-carpet a good old stomping on the way. Mi mother stomped up after me and gave me one of her thundering good hidings.

     As I lay on mi bed in tears, I thought about the situation.
'It's my money. I should be able to do with it as I see fit! I'm the one who has to carry that bloody big, heavy newspaper bag! She may get me up but I'll pay her to do that in future so she can't chuck it back up in mi face! Well, a new suit may not be too bad you know, especially if you get a ¾ jacket with long vents up the back and purple velvet Italian lapels and the trousers could be drain-pipes without a 'turn-up' and the Brothel-creepers would just top it off, although the luminous pink socks may just push her over the edge so better not insist on those yet. Mi other option is to give her all the money and tell her, You can have it all except for a Pound and I'm quitting the paper round!'

     This thinking took about a good hour after which I went back down stairs and read her mi 'Bill of Rights' as a working child. After I'd finished she said,
"You're getting a new suit, like it or lump it and you'll get the style your dad picks out for you."
Then she gave me another good belting and said, "Now get up those stairs and if you stomp your feet this time, you'll stay in all week!"

     Mi bottom lip sagged out as mi face dropped and back up the stairs I went, stomping much harder this time. As soon as I reached my room and threw myself as hard as I could on the old double bed, she came upstairs again and gave mi bare legs another sound thrashing with her bamboo cane and said,
"You defy me, you cheeky little bleeder! Now you won't go out after school all week long so don't bother to ask!"
"Don't worry, I won't!" I said between sobs as she came back in to give me some more of the same treatment.

     Soon as Saturday came, they both dragged me by the collar, unwillingly, out of the house and down to the bus stop where we waited for the Halifax bus to come.
"Get that bloody puss off ya face before I bloody well knock it off and if you show me up on this bus, we'll get off at the next stop and you'll get another thundering good hiding! Are you listening to me Richard?"

No comment.

     When we reached Halifax we found a good tailors shop that advertised MADE TO MEASURE SUITS. Mi dad, mi mum and me walked into the tailors shop. Up comes an old fogey salesman,
"Can I help you good people?"
"You can. We would like a new suit for our lad here."
"I have some nice inexpensive ones over the back here hanging on the peg if you'd care to come this way."
"He wants a tailor-made one!" sez mi dad.
"Oh! Excuse me Sir! In that case, please follow me and I'll show you some patterns and material."

     Unwillingly, I follow Iris and George over to the tailored section of the shop.

"What color do you have in mind Missus?
"Swindells! You'd better ask Richard, It's for him."
"Burgundy or bright red velvet!" I sez.
The salesmans' one eyebrow raised up at least an inch on one side and an inch and a half on 'tuther side.
     Mi mum looked down at me with her disapproving scowl and said, "You're not having a bright red velvet suit, lad, so you can get that notion right out of your tiny brain!"

     The salesman looked straight at mi mum as he waited for further orders.
"I think you'll find something you're looking for in this book of materials." he said as he handed the book to mi mum.
"Oh the suits not for me. You'd better give it to him. He's the one who'll be wearing it."
"No I won't!" I sez, under mi breath. This brought another glare from mi mum.

I unwillingly took the swatch book from the salesman who said to me,
"You have a look through here and I'll be back in a minute or so. Just let me know when you see something you like, sir."

     As I opened the swatch book, in a disinterested manner, mi mum tried to be nice about it all by saying,
"Oh! That's a nice color lad. You'd look good in that color."
It was a dowdy-looking brown, so I very quickly flipped over to the next swatch. I stopped at a light, shiny purple fabric.
"Keep going!" sez mi mum as she helped me turn the swatch pages.
"It's not heavy, you know. I'm not an invalid!" I said.

     This comment caused a violent reaction from her. As soon as she saw the coast was clear she grabbed a handful of mi coat and gave it a couple of real good shakes!

"Ow!" I said out loud so as the salesman could hear. As soon as he looked over she replaced the scowl with a phony smile and continued to help me turn the swatches.

     Eventually, after much bullying, a medium blue-black small check wool material was decided upon.

"So, we've made a decision on the material, have we?"

     I gave him an icy look and mi mum gave him her phony smile. When she showed him the swatch he gave us a phony comment,
"Oh what a lovely choice. You'll look quite a young gentleman in this color." He said. "Now, if you'd step this way, we'll take a few measurements."

     All this time, mi dad had been looking around the shop at some 'off the peg' suit styles he liked.

"Just hang your arms at your sides in a relaxed manner." Said the salesman as he pulled his tape measure from around his neck. "Better remove your top coat so as we can get an accurate measurement."

     After I took mi big coat off, I tried to make one of mi shoulders go up and the other one slightly down but the Salesman must have been wise to this little trick, as he leveled off mi shoulders before he took the measurement.
     He quickly jotted all the measurements down and last of all, he said,
"Just look straight ahead and the final measurement will be the inside leg."
"I can do that misen!" I said to the salesman as I reached for his tape.
"Stand still Richard and don't be cheeky!" sez mi mum.

By the time he'd finished, mi dad was now finished looking around. His timing was perfect.

"Now, what style lapels would like?" The salesman said.
"Real narrow Italian lapels." I said.
George said, "Big, wide lapels!" and the salesman wrote down, 'wide classic lapels'.
Then he said, "Single or Double-breasted?"
"Single!" I said.
"Double!" said George.
"Double-breasted." Said the salesman, as he wrote on his note-pad.
"Straight-leg and no turn-ups or straight-leg with turn-ups?"
"Straight-leg with no turn-ups!" I said.
"Straight-leg with turn-ups!!" said George.
"Straight-leg with turn-ups." Wrote the salesman as he talked to himself.
"Now, last but not least, how wide do you want the bottoms?" he said, looking at George.
"24 inches", said George
"Make it 12 inches!" I said to the salesman.
The salesman looked at me then back at George.
"24 inches!" said George.
The salesman was just about to write 24 inches, when I said quite firmly, "NO! I don't want 24 inch bottom trousers!!"
The salesman stopped writing in mid-stream.
"24 inches!" said George. "Only a bloody idiot would walk around in a suit with 12 inch bottoms and no turn-ups!"
The salesman looked back to me.
"12 inch bottoms or you can cancel the order!"
Now, Iris pipes up and put her two-penneth in.
"Maybe 24 inch bottoms are a bit wide for his legs."
The salesman looked at her and said, "Maybe 20 inch bottoms and turn-ups would look good."
Just as the salesman smiled and was about to write '20 inches', I said, "NO! 12 inch bottoms or nowt!!"
This determination on my behalf caused her to screw her face up this time.
"22 inch bottoms!" said George.
"18" said Iris.
"12" I said. "Or nowt!!!"

As we argued over the trousers, the salesmans' head was spinning around in circles from one of us to the other.
"18 inch bottoms and that's final!" said Iris.
"Bloody stupid!" sez George. "My pants are 26 inch bottoms and there's nowt wrong with them. Only bloody Teddy Boys wear 18" bottoms and that went out of style in King Edwards' days".
"Teddy Boys wear 10 inch bottoms". I said. "I know 'cause I asked one how wide his pants were!"
"18 inch bottoms". Iris said to the Salesman. "Write that down!"
"Bloody daft wench." Sez George.
"I wont' ever wear 'em." I sez to mi mum.

"How much deposit would you like to leave on the order?" sez the salesman as he looked at me.
"NOWT!" I said, as I scowled at him.
The anger behind the word, 'nowt' caused him to move backward a pace or two.
"How much will the suit cost?" sez Iris.
"8 Pounds 10 shillings give or take a few shillings.", said the salesman.
"He'll leave 4 Pounds deposit." said Iris as she handed him my hard-earned money.
"Thank you Mrs. Swindells."
"Don't thank me, he's buying the suit."
"Thank you sir.", said the salesman.
"Don't thank me. I ain't wearin' it!"

     Another phony smile from Iris and we walk out the shop.
"It'll be ready to fit next Saturday.", called out the Salesman.

     I never even acknowledged him, I just walked straight out. As soon as we got outside Iris gave a quick quick look around and then gave me a smack in the butt of mi ear and said,
"And that's only for starters! You wait till I get you home lad. I'll make you real sorry you ever bloody showed me up in front of strangers in a shop!"

     The following week, we went to Halifax to get fitted for the new suit. The week after that we picked up the suit. The following Monday I went into Mr. Sutcliff's shop and told him I was quitting the paper round. He asked me to train up a new boy, which I did and Saturday morning, I drew mi last paycheck.

     When mi mum woke me up on Monday morning for the paper round, she said,
"Come on lad, you'll be late for the round if you don't hurry!"
"If I stay in bed until 7 this morning I wont be late."
"What the hell are you going on about? Are you awake yet or talking in your sleep?"
"I'm not asleep." I said, as I lay there facing mi bedroom wall. "I'm wide awake."
"What's all this bloody nonsense you're talking about then? It's 5:40. You'll be late if you don't hurry!"
"I won't ever be late 'cause on Saturday morning I quit the job."
"What did you say?"
"I said, on Saturday morning I quit the job. Another boy is doing mi round today!"
"You little bugger!" she sez.
"And further more, you can beat me as much as you like, I will never ever wear that stupid suit, as long as I live!"

     With that, Iris walked out of mi bedroom and never spoke to me for 2 weeks. After 2 weeks of not speaking to me, one morning she started speaking. For the next 2 weeks I gave her the 'yes-no' treatment.

From the day we picked up the new suit, my relationship with mi mum and dad changed. It steadily got worse.

     Living at 36 Jubilee Terrace was not a very happy time in my life. I could not say it was the worst time as that was still to come.