Sitting on the sofa one afternoon was Dad, just staring into the fire.

“What can you see Daddy?” I asked

“Nowt; nowt at all” he replied.

“I can Daddy, look there is a big dog just like our Rex made out of the cinders. Look! He is lying down now.”

“D’int bother me now hinny, I d’int like little lasses anyway, I think lads are best.”

I was silent; quite hurt by my father’s remark, he never did show me much affection and I new fine well that my brother Bernard was the apple of his eye.

“I guess he is tired” I thought, and went silently from the room.

Next morning Mrs. Clark arrived to clean the house it was school Easter holidays so I asked if I may go to the allotments with Daddy, to keep out of Mrs. Clark’s way. He nodded his approval and off we went, Ron staying at home with his books. I was quite happy pottering about doing just what Daddy told me, taking great care not to get in his way.

“Look here” he said. “I’ve some’at to show yer.”

I looked over the small fence, I could not believe my eyes, there was a young baby goat just three hours old. I was entranced at the sight of the kid, when all of a sudden ‘Bump’. I went up into the air and landed in the straw-filled pen alongside the kid.

“That damned billy goat.” Dad called out “I’ll do for yer yet” he said as he chased the billy goat.

This goat had apparently given trouble on a number of occasions, so he arranged with his brother Eddy to deal with the goat as Eddy had some connections with the local slaughter- house. The following day I went with Daddy to clean out the bird cages, ever keen was I to be of use to my father so he would think of me as a boy. This was quite strange as the boys did not take any interest in the garden, but I loved it. I was not at all jealous of my brothers I just wanted Daddy to love me too. My brother Bernard never seemed to be around very much, he being eight years older than me was off with his pals, that is when he was not hard at work with his books. He was a clever lad and had been attending the local Grammar School for the past three years. I often heard people remarking on this fact saying

“Yes, that lad will go far.”

In those days not many children progressed to Grammar Schools, both Ron and I felt very proud of our big brother when we heard this said.

The birds were kept in a shed in Gran’s garden at the back of her house and beyond the rolling meadows flowed in the wind. On reaching the shed my father had a worried look on his face, as no sound came from the shed.

“Oh No!” he exclaimed

“What’s wrong Daddy?”

“Thay’r aal deed” he replied.

Something perhaps a fox or a weasel had got into the cages and killed all but one bird. I looked at my father who sat down on the small stool in the shed.

“Gann yarm hinny I’ll see t’all this.”

I noticed the shine in the eyes of this sad person who was my father and certain that I saw tears there.

Oh Daddy “Will you get some more?”

“I d’int knah hinny just gan away yarm and leave us be.”

I did as I was bid, young as I was I had an uncanny sense of other people’s sorrow, I was also thinking how Daddy must be missing Mammy too. I resolved to do my very best to be good and make Daddy feel better. When he came home he told Ron and me that he had put the remaining bird into a cage and given it to Gran, we already had a budgie which Ron was trying to teach to talk. Daddy had cleared out the shed and was not going to have any more birds, we all felt very sad.

Saturday morning I asked if I could go and see the baby goat.

“Are you coming to see it Ron? it’s so beautiful, do come.”

Reaching the allotment gate Daddy undid the lock and we ran in full of excitement to see the baby goat but were halted suddenly as we saw the soil of a newly dug part of the garden move.

“Don`t be daft” said Dad as he caught up with us.

“It did! Daddy, it did! Look”

To be sure it was moving, the lump in the soil was getting bigger and bigger. We moved a bit closer to Daddy without taking our eyes off the moving hump.

“What the hell” said Dad.

But before he could say another word, up jumped the billy goat. All three of us could not contain our laughter at this strange spectacle. Daddy put the goat into a pen until he could decide what to do.

“Hello there” a voice shouted.

It was Uncle Eddy calling in as he was passing.

“Just the fellah ah want” said Dad, “Eddy ah thout ah asked thee te kill that goat.”

“Ah did, Jacky.”

“Then what’s that”? Dad asked as he opened the pen and let out the billy goat.

“Good God” replied Eddy as he turned to the spot where he had buried the goat.

“Aye” said Dad.

“Ah fine job thee made on it”.

Uncle Eddy had hit the goat on the head with a mallet to kill it but had only stunned it. Thinking it was dead he buried it, fortunately for the goat the grave was very shallow and the goat had still managed to breathe and survive.

“If yer want owt done dee it yer-sel.”

The two of us looked on goggled eyed with amazement. Ron pushing up his glasses which had slipped down his nose said

“Don’t kill the goat again Dad will you?”

The goat was reprieved and lived to butt another day.

As summer approached the sun shone more often, the days were much warmer and my thoughts turned to picnics, playing in the mud and looking for ‘Boodies’. Boodies was a pastime enjoyed by most children. We dug and scraped about on the ground with old spoons to look for the treasured pieces of broken pottery. After washing and cleaning them they were all sorted into the different colours. We used these when playing shops, imagining them to be sweets or biscuits. I had a pair of old scales with which to weigh out the Boodies. We dug holes about 4″ deep, the size of a dinner plate, mixed the soil into a paste with water then pressed the paste into old shoe polish tins. These were left to dry hard in the sun, then knocked out of the tins ready to be sold in the play shop as cakes.

We knew where there was a pile of old heels from shoes behind the cobbler`s shop which had been discarded from the repairs. We looked for matching pairs of high heels and knocked these onto our shoes with a piece of old brick, rather wobbly they were, but it was fun to pretend that we were grown up. My brother Ron enjoyed this as much as I did and sometimes our neighbouring children joined in the fun. One of these was Eleanor Athey who lived next door, she had lots of adult brothers who all worked at the pit. Eleanor’s mother every week on baking day made lots of apple pies to feed her hard working sons and their father. On one such day Eleanor called to me

“Howey Doris are yer coming to help me eat the gowks?”

In Mrs. Athey’s kitchen, which was neat and clean, on the table stood a large bowl full of apple cores. we ate these with great enjoyment followed by a piece of apple pie which had just come out of the oven. She also made huge stotty cakes which were stood on the front door step to cool (everyone did this). When we went round to Mrs. Barnes’s house to collect our bread the smell of it freshly made was overwhelming, and before we set off home with our baskets full Ron and I always enjoyed a chunk of her stotty cake spread with butter and strawberry jam. In the 1930s the days of the weeks were allotted their duties, the washing must be done on a Monday come rain or shine. ironing on Tuesday, baking Wednesday, upstairs cleaning Thursday, downstairs Friday, going out Saturday, church Sunday mornings and visiting or receiving relatives for tea in the afternoon. Other jobs such as mending were fitted in whenever possible.

Grandma popped in one day to tell Ron and I that relatives of ours whom we had never met had requested that we both go to visit them, they were Great Aunts ‘Grace and Dinah’ who lived in the last house in a street called Coffee Pot. Dressed up in our best clothes Ron and I set off on the short walk to Coffee Pot Street.

Passing Chaytor’s house in our street, Harry, a friend of ours asked “Where are you off to?”

After I told him where we were going he told us not to go, as that was the house where two old witches lived, we just laughed and continued on our way. Arriving at the door Ron reached forward very cautiously and knocked upon it. The door opened to reveal a tall dark figure, my thoughts recalling Harry’s words and Ron standing there speechless. I took a deep breath and bid her

“Good afternoon Mum?”

“Come in, come in” she replied as she turned to make room for us to pass. She was dressed in a long black dress which rustled as she moved. From her shoulders up her long neck was covered with white lace ending with a small frill just under her chin. Her hair was parted in the middle from her forehead down to the back of her neck. The hair which was held in bunches of curls with two tortoise shell slides hung over her ears. With the smile still on her face she turned to her sister who said

“Good afternoon, how nice of you to come.”

She was Great Aunt Grace the first one being Great Aunt Dinah. Grace was dressed much the same as Dinah but with a large white apron covering most of her dress. As she bent forward to stir the jam in the large brass cauldron which hung over the fire from a hook above, the smell was wonderful.

“Do you think they are witches?” I whispered to Ron,

“Well they look like it” he replied.

“Do sit down” Dinah said.

“I’ll just take my scones out of the oven and we will have some tea as soon as they cool.”

She turned and held out her hand towards the table. The large table with it’s beautiful lace cloth was set for four, with a chocolate cake, a trifle in a crystal bowl, brown bread and butter cut into triangular pieces, a bowl of cream and another with raspberry jam ready for the scones. Great Aunt Dinah put the scones onto a wire tray and soon they were cool enough to be transferred to a china plate with a lace doyley. My thoughts of witches soon vanished as we chatted to our new found Aunts and we enjoyed being able to talk whilst at the table, as this was usually not allowed. Great Aunt Grace was a widow and great Aunt Dinah had never been married, she had remained a spinster all of her life as her betrothed had been killed in The Boer War. After a very enjoyable two hours Great Aunt Grace pressed a coin into both Ron’s and my hand and bid us “Good bye” and we responded cheerfully thanking them for having us. Seconds later looking at our coins, a shilling, a whole shilling each, not to share but each! We hurried home happy and feeling quite rich.

Thinking of my Great Aunts one evening my thoughts turned to some other relations who lived at West Cornforth whom I had not seen for quite a while. I had occasionally stayed with them at weekends. Aunt Ethel and Uncle Fred their daughter Ethel and another named Emmy. I recalled them with much affection and wondered when I would be able to visit them again. They were devout Salvationists as my mother had been, so I assumed that they must have been some of Mammy’s relations. I remember standing in a circle singing in the streets. The sound of my favourite hymn ringing loud in my mind.

O What A Friend We Have In Jesus

All Our Sins And Grief To Bear

All Because We Do Not Carry

Everything To God In Prayer

My thoughts were broken by Dad coming in saying that he was worried, because Nell our horse had come home alone. It just so happened that Granddad Oliver had gone to West Cornforth riding Nell that afternoon, and here was Nell home without him. What had happened to Granddad. There were no telephones so we could not contact Uncle Fred. There were no buses running at night. . Dad was working on the night shift and did not have time to go. There was nothing to do but wait.

Next morning I came down to breakfast to see Granddad sitting at the table telling his story to Dad. Nell had pulled free from her tether outside of the pub where he had stopped for a drink on the way home. Tired of waiting for him she had come home without him, and Granddad had walked the considerable distance home. We all felt sorry for him but still laughed, he also grinned as he fingered his moustache.

*To read the full story, please use the page-number links at the bottom of the article. The ‘Next Page’ button jumps to the following article.