I left the infants school at 7 years old and on my way to junior school I had to pass through a farm yard, known to us as the farm fold. Every morning as I went through the farm yard the farm carthorse would be waiting for me with his head over the fence for maybe an apple if I had one, (in autumn the scrumped ones), or some grass that he could not reach, then I went into the shippon to watch the milkmaid and always got a squirt of milk straight from the cow into my mouth.

Just after the war when my dad came home, sometimes I would get up very early and pick him some mushrooms from the field where the cows grazed before going to school, and the farmer never bothered us, his son sometimes let me try my hand at plowing when I got a little older, but it was too difficult for me.

Those were my happiest memories, and after I had left school the farm was sold, and the fields used for a large housing estate, but they didn't start building for a couple of years so we used the fields for our games, such as cricket and football etc.
Happy days, that unfortunately most of the children growing up now will never know.

Submitted by: Don
Location: Bryn Near Wigan