Pyenest Street

The Gothic style windows of Pyenest Street were s adorned with an arch of bricks with a mosaic of Minton tiles.

I never remember the small pottery working. I do recall however, after it was closed and apparently abandoned, helping to demolish it with the help of the other children in the street! I am of the opinion that all simple demolition jobs should be given to young boys as an outlet for their pent up energy and frustrations.

^{This then was the street, my childhood playground. Although I knew and was known to all forty families there were just a few who I still remember clearly.}

^{First Mrs Whetnall who I suppose was my first employer. For 3 old pence a week I ran errands for her. It was usually to the chemist or to Boyce Adams the grocer on Snow Hill, I recall she was fond of their Madeira cake. It was only odds and ends I fetched as was usual then as her main shopping would have been delivered. I was very much into roller skates at this time and most of my errand-running was done on them. In fact some days I rarely took them off even for meals.}

A few doors away from our house lived "Granddad" Smith and his unmarried daughter. They were always the first to see anything that I had given to me, especially at Christmas when I would take my full pillowcase along for them to see. Miss Smith was particularly fond of me; I still have a miniature Bible she gave to me in 1931. On one Christmas afternoon Miss Smith gave a little party to which we were invited. We sat around the front parlour being amused by one of her relatives who was doing tricks and I sat watching on a chair clutching on my lap the box which contained my first small train set. For one trick he required a flat surface and chose my treasured box on which he placed a small pig! He then applied a lighted match to the pigs nose, then to every ones amusement and to my horror from the other end of the pig came coils of pig shit, which reduced me to tears and a hasty departure.

^{Our immediate next door neighbour on the other side was Mrs Brassington, a widow. Her husband had founded the retail shoe shop in Hanley, a business still in existence today. She was considered to be well off! She had a daily cleaner and even more impressive were the visits from her private Doctor whose chauffeur-driven car was often parked outside. I can’t remember that we were close to her although my father often went round to sort out a persistent problem of damp in our kitchen wall caused by the soil from her little garden being adjacent to it. To me she was a little old lady who smelled musty and always wore black clothes.}

^{Another family with boys of my age were the Robsons. Mr Robson played woodwind in the orchestra at the Theatre Royal and supplemented his income by giving lessons for the clarinet and oboe. A printed notice in the front window proudly displayed this information.}

^{Finally the Ramseys who were a large family. The youngest, Stanley, was a particular pal of mine. His three older sisters were attractive young women fond of dressing up and going out, usually to the Rising Sun pub at the top of Sun Street. They were often the talk of the street, following a noisy return from the pub on a Saturday night. Stanley and I shared many happy days. He was not very robust but he was game for most things and he, like me, was pretty handy at demolishing abandoned small potteries.}