When horses were the mane attraction

GROWIng up in Brighton in the Thirties and Forties, the local tradesmen then still used horses, and we even had a blacksmith in the Open Market still shoeing them — with a crash and a bang and a shower of sparks. One of my early memories, aged about five, was running between the front and rear legs of the baker’s shire horse for a dare — Mother would have had a fit if she knew. When I was a few years older, I used to help the milkman with his deliveries and rode beside him in his chaise. As we trotted along Preston Drove, the milkman would shout ‘Lift your feet up!’ Milk was not all the horse delivered. The local rag-and-bone merchant would trawl the neighbourhood with his horse and cart, and a distinctive cry — ‘any yah boo!’ The any yah was long and drawn out, punctuated by a loud boo! We concluded it was an abbreviation for any old rag and bone and called him the yah boo man. In those days there were pigbins beneath the lime trees on our road. The baker’s horse would nudge the lid off with his nose and steal some of the contents. Two neighbours were well known for dashing out with buckets and shovels for the plentiful manure. Then there was the dramatic occasion when I observed a horse, pulling a cart, bolting along Preston Road. A brave soul ran out and grabbed its reins. It dragged him along the road before it finally stopped near the Duke of York cinema at Preston circus. Ah! The memories. how times have changed.

Jonathan Bryant, Worthing, West Sussex.