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Memories of a childhood in wartime Leith. The trials and tribulations of the period, allied to the camaraderie of the community in facing up to an uncertain future made a lasting impression on John Stewart.
Well before the age of television and 'gameboys', we were never at a loss for amusement. Left to our own devices we filled the day well.
Swimming in the Water of Leith from the old cemetery in Coburg Street, fishing for crabs at Coalhill with bent nails tied to a piece of string, swinging on the old chains at the shore and snaring pigeons with maize gathered from outside Wilson's Mill in Yardheads.
I add that the pigeons came to no harm as we let them go immediately. We may have been a tough lot but we were never cruel to animals or cheeky to adults.
Guiders (go carts) were a great source of enjoyment for us. We would manufacture them ourselves from old flooring taken from the 'haunted house', a long derelict building in Market Street.
Old pram wheels no matter how buckled were put to use. Nails were taken from the old floorboards, or if we were lucky, bought from Johnny-a-Things in Henderson Street. This was the name given to Dalglish, the drysalter.
Often we would customise the guider with a remnant of an old carpet or sometimes we would have a toolbox-cum-seat at the rear. If pram wheels were not available, old ball bearing races would be fitted.
Unfortunately the noise from these on the pavements were a source of annoyance to those housewives whose houses bordered our 'racetrack'. Guiders never saw a second year. They were discarded, as we had nowhere to store them.
In winter, sledges took their place. Again we made them ourselves. Failing that we could always use the house shovels or tea trays to slide on. Our snow course was the area of ground behind the Broad Pavement that had the underground air shelters site on it.
This was known as the 'black grund'. (No misspelling, the missing 'o' is deliberate). The landfill over these provided the necessary slopes.
This same 'grund' was forever flooded in places and we used these pools to paddle around in with our wellies. This was also parallel to John A Barrie's rag warehouse and sometimes we would challenge each other to see if we could thrown stones up and over the building into Parliament Street.
When I think of it now I shudder. Any stones that managed to get over could well have caused some injury to somebody passing below.
On the subject of rags, to raise some cash we would sell anything that came our way to old Lizzie in St Andrew's Street. A wizened old dear, she sported a man's cap on her head and a old shawl about her while she sat smoking a clay pipe amidst all the old rags.
The takings from her shop were only a few pence and a couple of fleas as a bonus!
Clay pipes were used by us at times to blow soap bubbles. Unfortunately the stem would often stick to our lips and off would come the skin as we pulled at them.
John Stewart, 2001
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