jam . Anyway, this dog suddenly turned on Stan and I, in panic we jumped on to a chair and then onto the table and then promptly sat down on the dish full of tarts . Whilst this bedlam was going on, my Dad kicked this wretched animal out into the yard . My poor Aunt Mabel thought he had killed it, and when she remonstrated with my Dad he turned on her and said " Don't ever bring that bloody thing here again " . I never liked dogs after that - and we never saw that dog again .

Stan, Dad and myself used to play cricket in the yard and had some good times, it taught you to keep the ball down - otherwise we would have lost it in someone else's yard . Stan had a hell of a temper as a kid, and on one evening whilst we were in the kitchen, something had annoyed him . In a fury he started whirling his jersey round his head, knocking off the gas mantle. This left us with a long blue flame and we were just about able to see one another . My mother wasn't very pleased and Stan was threatened with ", Just you wait 'till your Dad comes home. " . We spent the rest of the night in near darkness as we didn't have a replacement mantle . I can't remember whether Stan ever got his come-upance.

One Christmas we were given a big Meccano set, this had been given to Mabel by her employers as it was going to be thrown out . I believe this Meccano set taught me a great deal about mechanical things . It also taught me dexterity with fingers and gave Stan and myself endless hours of fun and pleasure in model-making . It's a great pity that today's kids don't have this type of toy to exercise their minds, hands and imaginations . Instead they have these ready-made, hi-tech, high-cost computer games or radio-operated model cars which are soon put aside for some other ready-made playthings, and all costing a fortune in replacement batteries to keep the things working.

Christmas time was always special . The parlour and kitchen were always decorated, for dinner we had turkey and all the usual veg etc., also mum's home-made Christmas pudding . As far as I know my father never drank, not because he was teetotal, but I guess his money never ran to properly looking after his family and boozing . On Christmas afternoon, after dinner, we all retired to the parlour where a coal fire had been lit . Lighting this fire was a hell of a job because it was so seldom used . When first lit it used to belch smoke into the room and to increase the draught my father would hold a sheet of newspaper over the front of the fire . This was a dangerous practice as the newspaper could so easily set light and cause a house fire . It would take an hour or so before the fire was roaring up the chimney and all the smoke had cleared.

In this room was a ' Masters voice ' wind-up gramophone with a big horn to amplify the sound . The records were the big, very brittle type that would shatter into pieces if dropped and required careful handling . I think there was
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