大象传媒

Our Gang decided to go Carol Singing to raise a few bob around Christmas time just after the War. We called at one house where one of the local meanies lived. He was not well liked at all by the local kids as he used to keep the footballs which landed in his garden. He worked at one of the local 'Pot Banks' and liked a 'sherbet' or three at week ends. As it was Christmas we all thought 'Peace Goodwill etc' We stood outside his front door singing for ages. He eventually came to the door a bit the worse for wear but carrying a bundle of rolled up newspapers which he handed to us. 'Here, these will warm you up lads' He said and disappeared quickly back inside. We eagerly tore open the newspapers expecting maybe chestnuts or potatoes. Yells of pain indicated that the parcel contained 'Red Hot Cinders' We decided to get our revenge and crept round to my Dad's back garden where he kept a small barrow full of horse manure. Courtesy of the Co-Op horse which he collected for his Rhubarb. Making our way back to 'Old Misery Guts' house we discovered his workboots on the back door step which we promptly filled to overflowing and laid a trail from the back door to the outside gate. It was hard to imagine the scene next day. My Dad was completely mystified as to the disappeared barrow of horse manure. A few days later following his visit to his local he was privvy to a tale of woe from 'Old Misery Guts' Dad quickly put two and two together and I got a dammn good clout around the ear for my trouble. Good Old Days Though.

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