From the early 40s onwards there was a great craze for ‘pitch and toss’. We played it in the ball alley nearby and the fellas pitched and tossed there till dark.
Then they came to my house to do the ‘two ups’. I made a few bob out of that!
I was working in McCombs – back and forward – for a while. Mrs McComb was very strict and maybe when I’d worked for her a month or two, we’d fall out for a while.
I remember one time her husband John bought a new bucket – a brand new bucket – for washing the byre. That was my job, washing the byre. Well, that wee bridge down there – yes, there! (pointing) – across the river, was where I’d fill it. The river was full right up to the bridge this time, so I went out.
This was just the second or third time I had the new bucket. It was a big, big bucket. Came right up to my waist!
Anyway when I went to fill it, the force of the river and the weight of water pulled it right out of my hand!
Away went the bucket, down the river!
Well, here I am – what am I going to do?
A brand new bucket. In them days a new bucket was ‘something else’!
Well, I did nothing! What could I do?
Another fall-out was for certain!