One of the memories of Mrs Kathleen Burdett (nee Hinde) who was born in London in 1940.

The coalman used to come round the streets of Islington once a week, with his horse and cart, with the coal on the back of his cart. We would say how many sacks we wanted, the sacks weighed l cwt, and he would put them on his back and empty them down the manhole covers, which went into the sheds or cellars of the flat concerned.

The coalman was always black. He used to wear a hat with a back to it, which covered his neck, and this was made of leather. Our coal was kept under the sink, and for the people on the other storeys or landings, the coalman would have to carry these l cwt sacks up the stairs and empty them under the sink.

I believe the coal was about one shilling and two pence per 1 cwt, equivalent to 6p today. The local shop was called 'Lockeys'. I passed by there the other day and they still sell coal. It is pre-packed now but they still have the old weighing scales, they must be worth a fortune today.

Coal fires were a source of entertainment, to my sister and I. We would sit and make pictures out of the coal's, sometimes it would be a face or some other object.

There was an art to making a good fire and my dad was the best. He would screw up the old newspapers, and place the chopped up firewood on top. These sticks were strategically placed across each other, then the coal went on top and then you lit the paper. This would then in turn (hopefully) catch the wood alight, which in turn lit the coals.

If you had a problem with the fire catching a whole double sheet of newspaper would be held across the hearth and this would 'draw' the fire, hopefully with not too much smoke, or the paper catching light and disappearing up the chimney.

The boys in the Square would find some wood, on the debris or wherever, and they would chop this up, tie it in bundles and sell these for three pence.

Then there was the chimney sweep. He would have to be called every so often to clean the chimneys. This he did with long handled brushes that had big long-haired soft bristles. Each of these long handles was pushed into the other one and depending on where you lived, he may have had to use 6 or more handles, then push them up the chimney.

He would place a sheet of cloth around the fireplace, to catch the soot that was pushed down. My Nan used to pray that the mess was not too much to clear up. The chimney sweep was also deemed to be lucky, so if you were getting married you would try to see him, or arrange for him to come around and kiss you for luck.

When you moved homes you would leave a piece of coal and a packet of salt for the next person, so they would never go cold or hungry. This was a tradition.

This is not to be confused with the 'Black Man'. There were not a lot of black people in the 'old days' and if we saw a black man, we would spit on the ground for luck. I guess this would be deemed racist nowadays, but it was a fact of life then. Of course today they are everywhere, and accepted by us, not as someone unusual and strange.

Another man who used to call round the streets with his wares was the wet fish man with his wheelbarrow. He would shout at the top of his voice 'shrimp & winkle', and it was always the children's job to take the winkle out of its shell and remove the head. We would sometimes put these heads on our face and pretend that it was a beauty spot, and strut around like the film star Margaret Lockwood, this occurred every Sunday afternoon. It was a tradition.

The other man who used to call was 'Dave' the cat's meat man. He had a pedal bike with a basket on the handles and the cat's meat was wrapped in little packets. When he came round he would call out 'Cats Meat Man' and every cat in the Square would come out and meow around him.

Then we had the newspaper man. He would be shouting out something indecipherable. I found out after it was 'Star, News and Standard'. Once you knew what he was a saying, then it made sense.

We also had the 'Entertainer'. He was a funny little man who used to come around and sing and dance and we would all follow him from one street to the next. Some of the older boys would put a penny on the gas burner and throw it out to him and of course, the poor man, when he went to pick it up it would burn his fingers, but we used to love following him, he was a grand character.

Another memory is the Monkey and the Organ Grinder. The organ was so decorated, so ornate and he would turn the handle and music would come blaring out. If we gave him another penny he would let us hold the monkey.

Another man who used to come around was the lamp lighter. He would be on a bicycle and would be holding a long pole. This pole was used to light the street lamps. There was a song about him and it was called 'The old lamplighter of long, long ago'.

Then there was the 'Ice cream man', also on a pedal bike with a frozen box on the front and we would buy an ice cream from him. This of course, was replaced many, many years later by the ice cream van that we know today.

There was the scissor sharpener. He had a pedal bike and he would have a great big stone on the front of his bike. We would take our scissors and knives out to him. He would then pedal his bike and this would turn the stone on the front of the bike. He would put the scissors or knives across the stone, and this would sharpen it, then we would pay him whatever the cost.

My dad would sometimes sharpen our knives himself on the stairs, as these were concrete. He would run the blade across the step and this would suffice until the knife man came again. My dad must have been worth his weight in gold when I think of what he used to do.

My dad had a cobblers 'foot'. This was a piece of iron, and it had 5 'feet' on it. All these feet were different sizes and he would mend all our shoes. He would buy a piece of leather, cut around the sole of the shoes to be mended using it as a template and then nail this onto the bottom of the shoe. He would then have a piece of wax, which he would burn and the melted wax would then be smoothed around the edge of the shoe. The piece of leather would then be black around the edges, so no light colours would show.

Before my dad could get around to this, or perhaps before he could afford to buy the piece of leather, if we had a hole in our shoe he would cut out a piece of cardboard, or several pieces of newspaper, and place these layers inside the shoe so the rain could not come in so quickly.

The money was of course pounds, shillings and pence. £1.55 today would be one pound, ten shillings and two pence. There was the half crown, this was worth two shillings and six pence, equivalent today to twelve and a half pence.

What a mess that was when we first went decimal, it was very hard to adopt, as we were used to twelve pence to the shilling and two hundred and fourty pence to the pound. Now all of a sudden there were only ten pence and one hundred pence. Many of us I'm sure, were robbed blind.

This came into being just after my husband had died, and I had started work, nothing is ever easy is it? I felt my brain could not cope with all the changes, as well as looking after my two sons. Of course you do, you have to, no one's going to do it for you, but it makes you a stronger person.

The Square. Quinn Buildings. Wayne and Dean Marsh Burdett