One day on my return from school I found
that the Hepworth's, with whom my dad and I lodged had been
turned out of their home by the landlord. Their bits of furniture
were all out in the street, so I sat down on one of the chairs
to wait for my dad to arrive home from work. My dad by the
way was a bit of a dandy, he wore a smart suit with a shirt
and tie, a clean mac. and was the only man in the street to
wear a trilby. When he arrived home we collected our odds
and ends and set off to find new digs, we ended up in Taylor
St. a long wide street with houses and one or two shops up
each side, the houses tended to get better at the top end
of the street. We found new lodgings with a old widow lady
who lived by her self, it was a big improvement on Queen St.
my dad and me had a bedroom to our self, there was a velvet
cloth over the table, a home made clip rug before the fire,
a wireless with accumulators, and a collection of ornaments
on the shelf over the fire. The wireless accumulators were
like small car batteries but made of glass, you could see
the acid inside, you had to take them back to the local shop
and change them when they ran down. Our new local shop sold
meat and potato pies and you took them home steaming hot together
with a jug of steaming gravy.
Cash Flow
Because of the shortage of cash we had to find ways of
making a copper here and there, on nice hot days you could
stand at the bottom of the street and wait for the ice cream
man to arrive with his heavy hand cart, a couple of you
could give him a push up the hill, this was a long and hard
job as he was for ever stopping to sell ice cream. On arriving
at the top they were often reluctant to give you cash and
you had to take payment with an ice cream cornet. A better
way was to go up to the rugby field on game days and ask
the blokes going in if they had any cig. cards. If they
were friendly you asked them to give you a penny and on
a good day you collected a nice collection of cards and
a copper or two, but on a bad day the cops would give you
a clip and run you off. Market day was the big day, you
arrived just before closing time and helped the stall holders
to load up their trucks, then went and collected the empty
wood boxes from the fruit stalls. The next day you chopped
up the boxes and sold it door to door for firewood.
Games
At the start of the summer all the seasonal games came
in, the big one was whip and top, the shops were full of
fancy tops, most kids just bought a basic one or got out
last years favourite and made the top fancy with coloured
chalk, both boys and girls played at whip and top but there
was skipping and hopscotch, for girls, for some reason boys
did not play these games. All year round boys played relievo
or squatcan, a game in which you placed a tin can in a ring,
al 1 your mates went and hid while you covered your eyes,
you then had to find them before they could sneak up unseen
and kick the can out of the ring. With all the allies, walls,
and bins about it could be a bit hectic. Then there was
cig. cards, you held one up for your mate to see the picture,
told him it was between twenty and thirty or what ever and
he had to guess the number on the back of the card, and
last but not least the all time great game, marbles, some
times known as allies or tors, the best game was the walking
game which you played as you walked to school, you rolled
the marble in the gutter and your mate had to roll his and
try and hit yours and at the same time not to stop too near
yours if he missed. This was a game of great skill in which
you had to contend with all the bumps and drains and when
it rained the puddles. Games with cig, cards and marbles
were taken very seriously as a blokes worth was often measured
by his collection of cards and marbles.
School
I went to Warwick Road Elementary School at Batley Carr
which was about a mile from Taylor St. the kids were a rough
lot and the teachers were on the stern side and very handy
with the cane. The canes used were not the hollow garden
stick sort but the solid type used in basket making and
were about half an inch thick. If they hit you on the palm
they were not too bad, but on the fingers especially on
the tips the pain was intense and brought tears to many
a boys eyes. All caning took place in front of the class
and it was important not to show fear or to cry or make
a fuss if you wished to retain your standing within the
class. All new kids to the school had to establish his position
in the class, this was based on a physical relationship
and not scholarly achievement Most of it was easy, you avoided
the real hard cases, and let the weaker one's know by the
way you spoke to them noting their response. The problem
was with your equals and this at time resulted in a fight
if one of you did not back down. After the first week or
so things settled down and you were accepted into a group
or gang. Even then fights could flair up from out of the
blue, on one occasion one of my mates had been given a nit
card by the school nurse and on the way home we got into
an argument and I made some remark about the nits which
resulted in a major fight. We were evenly matched, and the
fight just went on and on. No real damage was done but there
was, I remember lots of blood and minor cuts to the face,
we ran out of steam and in the end the dread of being late
home for tea was a factor ' so we called it a draw and went
home.
The only sex lesson I ever received was at Warwick Rd.
we had a boy who was over developed in the private regions
and a gang of hard boys found out and put him on show in
the toilets at playtime. Somehow the teachers found out
and they were brought before the head master. Well next
morning at assembly the girls were told to leave and the
gang were lined up before the head master, who gave a very
short speech in which he said that the only thing worse
than playing with your self was playing with some one else.
He then went on to give them each six of the best from which
no doubt he gained much pleasure and I was pleased to discover
that my secret vice was at least the lesser of the two evils.
Keeping Clean
Keeping clean was a problem for both yourself and your
clothes, the sink was a stone trough with a cold tap stuck
on the end of a lead pipe. Hot water had to be boiled in
a kettle on the fire, or gas ring if you were lucky. Washing
day was a hard day for the woman of the house, and took
all day and for big families well into the night, the smell
of the soap and the wet clothes the built up fire and steam
from the kettle was not very pleasant. Clothes had to be
washed in a tub and rubbed on a rubbing board then on fine
days hung out on lines which ran across the street from
the bedroom windows. On cold or rainy days they had to be
dried inside which was very unpleasant, we had a sort of
clothes rack hanging from the ceiling near the fire which
could be lowered for loading up with clothes. Ironing seemed
to take forever, the iron had to be heated on the fire and
then put in to a sleeve, a skilled operator tested the heat
by licking the finger and lightly tapping the face of the
iron.
Keeping your self clean was a matter of a stand up wash
over the sink and now and then a visit to the local slipper
baths, the baths were huge with a great big tap, a bloke
came with a big spanner and turned on the water which came
out with a great rush filling the bath in no time. It's
no wonder we were called the great unwashed.
Baking Day
I have told you how unpleasant wash day was well to make
up for 6 it there was baking day. Once a week most women
baked their own bread and flat cakes, the flat cakes were
about ten ins, across and to eat them while they were still
warm with dripping or jam and butter on was one of life’s
great joys. All the cooking was done in a Yorkist type oven
which was a fitted cast iron combined fire place and oven.
The oven was heated by pushing the fire under the oven from
the fire. Life revolved round the fireplace, the posher
ones had gleaming brass fittings and each week the housewife
would black lead the oven until it sparkled. The fire had
bars across the front and the top half would drop down as
a stand for the kettle, the kettle was also a proud possession
the better ones had a fine brass handle and long swan like
spouts. Some of the really posh ovens had a water tank fitted
on the opposite side to the oven with a brass tap fitted
from which you could run water heated by the fire. Over
the top of the fire place there was a shelf often covered
with a velvet cover with tassels running along its length.
In the centre of the shelf stood the clock and on each side
of it in matching pairs were the families ornaments. To
finish it off in front of the fire there was the fender
the bigger and brighter the better. The whole family on
winter nights used to sit round the fire each one to there
allotted spot with fathers chair taking the pride of place.
Every thing that would burn was thrown on the fire, old
shoes tin cans that would glow red and throw out heat and
father to show his authority leaned forward and poked the
fire with the long brass handled poker, often spitting with
great accuracy between the bars of the fire. To get back
to baking day it was the smell of baking wafting down the
street that you younger readers will never experience that
greeted you as you arrived home from school with the knowledge
that tonight's tea was going to be a treat.
The Table
The table dominated the centre of the living room, it was
a square table strong and firm with a plain white wood top
that was scrubbed clean, on a Sunday or when visitors were
expected a velvet cloth was put over it Everything was done
on the table the family sat round for their meals, and sat
up straight I might tell you, and the kids when they wished
to leave said "thank you for a very nice meal please
may I leave the table. On Sunday meals even in poor households
were very formal affairs and Sunday tea was the high light
of the week, a tin of salmon might well be opened and there
was prunes and custard to look forward to. On the table
shoes were repaired, home work was done, jigsaws were completed,
one of the few pleasures allowed on a Sunday by the way,
battles were fought with toy soldiers, ironing was done,
baking and cooking preparation and letters were written
and dad filled in the pools in the hope that one day his
boat might come in. I have mentioned Sunday, well for kids
Sundays were dreadful, there was no laughing or running
or skipping, no games, people used to put on their Sunday
cloths, the wirel6ss played hymns and church services all
the shops were shut it was just like a total dead day and
sometimes just to get rid of you, you were made to go to
Sunday school in the morning which was pretty dreadful,
unless you were a mamby pamby you just wished it was Monday
even if it was a school day.
Saturday
Saturday on a cold pre war winters morning, get up nice
and early about half past eight, it's blooming cold, get
some clothes on, have a skimpy half wash in the bowl in
the sink. The fire's just been lit and there's no heat coming
from it, Mrs Walker the old landlady mashed a mug of tea
and you washed down a slice of dripping and bread sitting
with your coat and scarf on. My dad was having a lay in
' it being one of his days off, he would get up later have
a bite of lunch and then go to watch Batley play rugby,
later he would spend the evening with his lady friend who
worked as a barmaid at The Little Saddle a pub in the centre
of Dewsbury.
Well having got the grub down you go out to meet your mates
and try and make a bit of money going round with the firewood
you had for sale, you could also run a few errands and earn
a copper. For the young reader let me explain the strange
currency we used to have, first there was the orpney or
half penny , the penny and the thripny bit and a tanner
or sixpence not forgetting the farthing which was a quarter
of a penny. The bob or shillimg which was twelve pence,
the two bob piece and half a crown which was two bob and
six pence, the ten bob note and the pound. Twenty shillings
made a pound and two hundred and forty pennies made a pound
so when I say it cost tuppence to get in the pictures you
can work it out.
Well after a hard mornings work it was home for a bit of
lunch, if you were lucky it was fish and chips from the
local fish and chip shop together with a real treat. a shop
bought cream bun.
Then gather together with your mates to go to the Saturday
afternoon special kids show at the flicks, the best show
was usually at the Plaza which was up in the centre of Batley
so the gang set off causing as much noise and general disruption
as possible on the way, call in a at Woolworth’s and
get some of their supper slab toffee covered with chocolate
and join the noisy queue waiting for the doors to open,
the more adventurous would try and get round the back to
see if the fire door was open or maybe the toilet window.
Well when they let you in there was the pushing and kicking
to get the best seats, the six foot doorman dragging you
off each other and an appeal from the manager to calm down.
Well the show started, first with the beam of light onto
the screen and then lots of jumbled up numbers flashing
on and off which brought lots of booing and get on with
it if they went on too long. Once the film started there
was lots of participation from the kids with screams of
look out their coming, kill him and get on with it if it
was dragging. Sometimes they would stop the film half way
trough in order to flog their ice cream and sweets, and
you had a chance to assess the film so far, with "what
do you think of it so far", " I teld you it was
good" . At the end of the film we all emptied out into
the street to make our noisy way home arguing with each
other on the merits of what we had seen, whether it was
better than last weeks, according to the traitor next week
was going to be even better.
Home for tea and then a couple of hours roaming round the
streets, standing outside the off licence shop and making
a general nuisance of ourselves and home to bed. One Saturday
night I woke up and there was a women in bed with me, it
was Edna my dads lady friend it was foggy and she lived
with her mother the other side of Heckmondwike so she spent
the night with us, my poor old dad had to sleep on the bedroom
floor that night. When I said that Edna was a barmaid you
may have assumed that she was a lady who knew her way around,
but far from it she was a highly respectable sort of woman,
she had red hair and a fair clean complexion and was to
take on the most difficult and often unrewarding job of
step mother, I am very grateful for the way she looked after
me, at times I must have been a horrid little brat, she
died suddenly from a dreadful throat cancer while only in
her early sixties and I never really thanked her.
Life’s Pleasures
Well there was the corner shop which was full of special
treats for kids, lots of sweets or spogs like lucky bags,
lolly pops, aniseed balls, bubble gum, liquorice and kali,
together with pop and powders to make your own drinks and
if it was a paper shop there was all the comics like the
Dandy, Beano, Rover and Wizard. Outside the shop was the
fag machines, two Woodbines and two matches for a penny,
there was a big selection of cheap cigs, but the favourites
were the Woodbines followed by Robins and Players Weights,
my dad by the way, with him being a bit posh smoked Capstans.
Then there was Woollies with nothing over sixpence.
Late October and the start of November there was the fire
works the preparation of fires in every street and bit of
spare land, going out in gangs chumping, raiding other fire
stacks and protecting your own resulted in lots of late
night fights often with the old man involved, and then on
the eve of bonfire day there was Mischief Night running
round knocking on doors, hiding in corners and blowing up
sink drain pipes, tapping on windows, putting drawing pins
on outside lav. door snecks and taking off the lav seats.
Then the big day the fires were lit and you could go from
one to the other, most of the fire works were bangers, the
louder the better, jumping crackers to throw down unseen
and make people jump, rockets and spinning wheels and best
of all whizz bangs which you lit holding them in your hand
and when they started to spark you throw them towards people
and they went like a rocket leaving a tail of sparks, people
used to laugh and scream running for cover, somehow I don't
think they would go down well today. There was potatoes
placed in the fire, home made toffee and parkin and the
grown ups drank beer from jugs filled up at the off licence,
often with it being special they let you have a drink.
On Saturday afternoon we went to the pictures. In Batley
there was the Regent at Hick Lane and up in town there was
the Plaza, the Empire and the bug hole with wooden seats
at the front The Victoria which is now I think the Conservative
Club. On Saturdays it was the cowboy films, Tom Mix was
a bit before my time because we now had the talkies, there
was Ken Maynard, Buck Jones, Hopalong Cassidy and Roy Rogers,
Rogers was a bit sissy what with his singing and trying
to please the ladies. There was comedy, I did not think
much of Chaplin who was over rated, when you had seen one
of his films you had seen them all, the best were The Three
Stooges, Laurel and Hardy, Our Gang, The Dead End Kids and
Edgar Kennedy. The show used to end with the serial to get
you back next week, and Buck Rogers was about the best.
We had home made go-carts made from planks and pram wheels,
with the front wheel connected with a nut and bolt so that
you could steer it with you feet and a piece of string,
we used to go racing down Taylor St. in our very own Formula
One if there was such a thing in those days.
At Whitsuntide we had the church and chapel sports day
and walks, they were great fun and even if you did not go
to church you could tag along, there was food to eat and
pop to drink and races to win and you never know you might
win a prize.
Then there was the boy's best friend his penknife with
which he could carve a gun or sword to play endless games
of cowboys or soldiers, dig holes, cut his name on trees,
doors and desks and show it off to his friends.
For those who had a bike and I had an old rusty banger
we would go out on the road into the country, round trips
of twenty or thirty miles were not uncommon and we visited
places like Wetherby and Otley in great journeys of discovery.
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