I remember being taught manners, Like pardon, thank-you and please

And raising my hat to a lady,

And using my hanky to sneeze.

Smile when I met a neighbour

And saying hello and goodbye.

Holding the door for a stranger,

And not even thinking why.

Running an errand for a neighbour, And not expecting a fee,

Sledging in the winter, Then you must be as old as me.

I remember not being wealthy, Poor as church mice one could say,

But any neighbour in trouble,

Would be helped in anyway.

We tied door knobs together,

And went spirit-tapping for a lark,

Played a game called Tin Lurkey, And did other tricks after dark.

I wasn't all that naughty,

Just boisterous as one could see,

If you can remember all those tricks, Then you must be as old as me.

I remember on a Saturday morning, To the local pictures we went,

With three pence in our pocket, My brother and I we were sent.

Cheering our favourite film stars, Flash Gordon, the Clay Men and Ming,

At the end of the morning's programme,

The National Anthem we did sing.

We never used bad language,

And sat at the table for tea,

And ask to leave when finished,

Then you must be as old as me.

I remember the tin-framed glasses; The school children had to wear,

A sticky patch over their good eye, And other kids used to stare.

I remember the school assembly, And the hymns we used to sing,

And the teacher's strap when naughty,

That made your poor hands sting.

I remember Spam sandwiches,

And stewed prunes we had for tea,

Delivering papers in the blackout? Then you must be as old as me.

I remember listening to the wireless, Tommy Handley, Dick Barton and Bing,

Bing was the favourite crooner,

And boy could that man sing,

I remember the girls in Slab Square, Beehive hair piled high,

High heels, stockings and suspenders,

And an occasional glimpse of a thigh.

So if you can relate to all I remember,

Like kaolin, emulsion and stewed tea,

If you can remember all these things,

Then you are as old as me.

RON BOOTH Ravenshead