Sandy Lane, Skelmersdale - at that time you could buy here anything you required, it was quite a busy shopping centre because all the collieries were going full swing and doing well.

I can always recollect old Charlie Bailey's Chip Shop with a smile, thats where a group of us used to make as our meeting place. We always called for old Charlie to bring us a 2 1/2d, tuppence halfpenny, wapp. This in plain English is a plate of chips, peas and tripe and plenty of it, and follow this up with his well known ice cream and wash this lot down with a bottle of Charlie Mason's Dandelion and Burdock. I have spent many happy hours with my pals here, this was a place where we could manage and arrange dances for the weekend and other activities. We always had something going on at weekends as this was the only time we could get together. I remember one time we arranged a bowling handicap at Hell Bob, Mawdesley, the real name was Black Bull, it was a Pub and farm combined and its chief attraction was its huge Poker and Hob, and mainly its ham and eggs which the publican used to dish out to parties that came for a night out. We had arranged this particular event for one Saturday afternoon. There were twenty of us for this handicap, a tanner a man - winner takes all. We had everything arranged, the only transport at that time was horse drawn vehicles and we had to have one to hold twenty. We went round seeking anything that would take us. Finally we came across an old farmer who had a waggonette that would hold us, but the real trouble was he had no horses only a couple of mules which he kept for carting coal. "You can have this lot for a bob per person, but I can't guarantee to get you there at a specified time but I'll get you there". We had no alternative but to accept so we arranged for him to take us on the following Saturday, but we had to walk to the farm where he kept his mules.

Anyway, Saturday came and we were all there ready to enjoy a good afternoon's sport. Before boarding the wagonette he collected all our (bobs) shillings and then said "One will have to ride with me on the front and another will have to ride on the steps at the back as the waggonette will only seat 18 persons, so if I was you I would take it in turn to ride on the steps as it will be a joggy ride". I volunteered to ride with him on the front and we started merrily at a jog trot. I got to chatting with the driver and he pointed at the mule on my side, "I call him Sebastian and I might tell you he is a stubborn beast at times, I never know when to trust him. The other is Napoleon, now he is not so bad when I have him working on his own but with Sebastian I am never sure". Anyway we jogged along the old country lanes with many a stop when the mules saw a nice bit of green grass to nibble at. The driver turned round to me and said "I believe Sebastian is enjoying this as much as the lads behind us". We turned a sharp corner and ahead lay a steep incline leading to the Black Bull (Hell Hob) where we were making for and we had made fairly good progress up to this point and this is where the fun really started.

We got to the bottom of the incline when Sebastian stopped dead and would not budge an inch, the driver started shouting at him and calling him all the beastly names he could. He asked the lads behind to try and push the waggonette on Sebastian's behind but not a budge could be got out of Sebastian. As luck was with us, there was an old man on the side of the road tending a brazier or coke fire; he was melting lead for workmen nearby, he was a little man with grey whiskers and a short clay pipe in his mouth. A smile hovers round my face when I think of what occured. This old man came to the driver who was swearing it out with the mules, he just simply said to the driver, "I can shift 'em mate", the driver looked at him "you are better than me if you can". Sebastian at this stage was well and truly stubborn, he had his ears flat on his head - this meant not a budge. The old man gave a smile and said to the driver, "Stick to the reins and you lads stick 'old of your seats", he sauntered back to the brazier, picked a hot piece of coke out of the fire with a pair of pincers, let it cool off a little and then came back to Sebastian, lifted his tail up and put the hot ember under its tail and pressed down. Sebastian gave a shudder, its ears shot up and went like a deer, dragging Napoleon with him and never stopped until he was exhausted. We had quite a good day's sport that day with many a good laugh when going home over the incidents.

I have often thought how the horse earned a man his livelihood because I am going to relate about a particular man who used to come every week from Southport with his flat cart and his sturdy pony pulling it, laden with cockles and fluke. The people used to call him Cockle Jack and he would sell his cockles at tuppence a quart and fluke one penny each. Just imagine what kind of life this fellow had. He had first to catch his fluke, then his cockles and travel the distance from Southport to Skelmersdale. At that time Southport was noted for its fluke as they were always clean and tasty and cheap.

I began a new hobby, keeping pigeons. At this time a new sporting craze had started in and around the district, it was pigeon shooting, this was generally sponsored by a publican to attract business. He would advertise the shoot at some nearby field, it was called trap shooting. The number of pigeons alotted to each gun was three and the shooter who killed the three was the winner, in the case of a tie it was shot for over again with the men who tied. But this was not an easy thing to do because the pigeon was put in a trap or box with a cord attached to the trap 25 yards long. The marksman would hold his gun ready to put to his shoulder and then say to ther man holding the cord behind him "Pull!" He would then pull the cord and release the pigeon which would take to flight going any way, right, left or straight. The marksman had to be quick with his eye and trigger finger because the pigeon had not to be killed or shot within the radius of 25 yards, any pigeon shot inside that radius was disqualified from counting. This is where my hobby began because I could sell the pigeons easily when they were ready for flight, I could get sixpence a bird for them because any pigeons that got away used to come back home. But this did not last very long because someone had started to trap starlings and was selling them at a pound per hundred for trap shooting. This caused the pigeon business to go out. Father said to us, why not build a trap of our own and catch starlings for us to sell and shoot, because Father loved his gun as much as we did.

In our house at that time we had between us four double barrelled guns and two single barrelled guns, cartridges were very cheap and we could buy them in any ironmongers shop without any trouble. We used to finish work at the colliery always around 2pm and I have heard the Manager of the colliery say in joke "when the horn blows at 2 o'clock the birds start seeking shelter from you lads because of your guns". Anyway, we built a starling pen and were quite amazed at the number of starlings and different kinds of birds we caught. In all it was about 12 yards long and 3 yards wide with one inch wire netting with different lengths of spars. We had it isolated about 100 yards behind our house, we used to put any old fish, meat, bread or anything that was going off. It was marvelous the different types of birds that got in but could not get out. This brought us in a bit of cash as we could sell the starlings without any trouble and it helped us to buy our cartridges as well and this is where I got a bit of knowledge about our supposed to be, the humble red robin. We used to get many sparrows in the trap, red robins as well. Many times we have gone to the trap to get 100 starlings for a customer and found a lot of sparrows dead and the robins flying around, this made us think why should the robins be all right and the sparrows dead? We kept watch and found the robins were a ferocious little bird and attacked the sparrows because they were in a confined space. After finding this out we cleared the robins out every time one got in and this stopped the massacre of the sparrows.

There was one little pleasant fellow I must record, he was always called Little Dickie Barber, he ran a barber's shop at the bottom of Sandy Lane. You could go in there, have a haircut for four pence and shave for a penny and be out of the shop in four minutes. He was always well patronised as people would go in and study racing and put a bet on their fancy. Dickie Barber always remarked to anyone when he cut their hair and brushed them down, "Fit for a wedding lad, four pence please and come again in a fortnight". I can see Dickie now as I think back how he used to get his brush out of the corner and sweep all the hair off the floor and push it behind two little short curtains, in front of you he had when cutting or shaving a mirror about four feet square with a crack running from corner to corner, he used to say " If you want to look at yourself twice there's your answer."

At this time the motor car was beginning to show itself in Skelmersdale and I think, but am not sure, it was a fellow named Tootle who kept a bicycle shop and started running a taxi service, but only on short journeys, because the motor car was only being used by people who understood and could afford them. This same fellow, Mr Tootle, was the first man to run a charabanc in Skelmersdale, it was a 20 seater with solid tyres and no top for cover. It caused quite a sensation when he took a load of miners all dressed up with their best caps on for a trip round the district. Someone in the town has a photograph of that because I have seen it and he called the charabanc the "Pride of Skelmersdale". With the advent of the motor car we lads at home started to take interest in motorcycles, my elder brother bought a second-hand motorcycle from a dealer and we all used to career up and down the lane where we lived and enjoying the thrill of it. But this motorcycle gave my elder brother ideas as well because he was interested in horse racing and loved to put his fancy on with the bookmaker. I had been moved on another job at the colliery which entailed me to go on work at 4 o'clock in the morning and finish at 12 o'clock dinner time.