A "Paper Boy"
When I reached 13 years of age I was able to deliver newspapers. The law then made 13 the youngest age for this work.
In the United Kingdom at that time “paper girls and boys” did not work for the newspaper. Instead they worked for the local Newsagent.
I worked for Frank Moore on Bellevue Road, Easton, Bristol. His little shop sold cigarettes, sweets, chocolates, news papers and magazines. He was a cheapskate, and I earned a shilling or two less each week than my friends in other shops.
He had a saying which I vowed I would never repeat. But of course I do. He would says to me, or to a customer “thank you very much, and if I can ever do the same for you, don’t mention it”.
My morning route, using a bicycle, started on Greenbank Road, took him some side streets, and then down Robertson Road to Mivart Street and to St. Mark’s Road. It was maybe one and a half or two miles.
On St. Mark’s Road, I would deliver at “Ashman’s Builders’ Yard” which always scared me as the owners always left an unleashed German Shepherd dog to guard the premises overnight. He once got my coat in his jaws, but not my arm. To this day I am skittish around strange dogs.
I would arrive at Frank Moore’s shop at about 7:00 a.m. He would have “marked up” the papers. for you see, in the U.K. there were about eight national morning papers ( e.g. The “Manchester Guardian“, “The Times“, “The Telegraph“, “The Mail“ , “The Daily Express”, “Reynolds News” [for committed Socialists] ) and one local morning paper “The Western Daily Press”. Aided by the pencil I would have to remember which home received which paper/s.
Towards the weekend my task would be harder. For I also delivered weekly magazines: “Woman”, “Woman’s Own”, “The Radio Times”, “T.V. Times” etc. My paper bag would be so heavy!
Then on Saturday mornings I would re-work the route to collect what customers owed for their weekly papers and magazines. Sometimes I would be tipped.
A bit later on I also took on a evening route, delivering the Bristol Evening Post, or Bristol Evening World. I was an over-achiever even then.
I think that I had these morning and evening routes until I was 16.
Frank Moore liked me because I was reliable. But he never paid me what I was worth!
In the United Kingdom at that time “paper girls and boys” did not work for the newspaper. Instead they worked for the local Newsagent.
I worked for Frank Moore on Bellevue Road, Easton, Bristol. His little shop sold cigarettes, sweets, chocolates, news papers and magazines. He was a cheapskate, and I earned a shilling or two less each week than my friends in other shops.
He had a saying which I vowed I would never repeat. But of course I do. He would says to me, or to a customer “thank you very much, and if I can ever do the same for you, don’t mention it”.
My morning route, using a bicycle, started on Greenbank Road, took him some side streets, and then down Robertson Road to Mivart Street and to St. Mark’s Road. It was maybe one and a half or two miles.
On St. Mark’s Road, I would deliver at “Ashman’s Builders’ Yard” which always scared me as the owners always left an unleashed German Shepherd dog to guard the premises overnight. He once got my coat in his jaws, but not my arm. To this day I am skittish around strange dogs.
I would arrive at Frank Moore’s shop at about 7:00 a.m. He would have “marked up” the papers. for you see, in the U.K. there were about eight national morning papers ( e.g. The “Manchester Guardian“, “The Times“, “The Telegraph“, “The Mail“ , “The Daily Express”, “Reynolds News” [for committed Socialists] ) and one local morning paper “The Western Daily Press”. Aided by the pencil I would have to remember which home received which paper/s.
Towards the weekend my task would be harder. For I also delivered weekly magazines: “Woman”, “Woman’s Own”, “The Radio Times”, “T.V. Times” etc. My paper bag would be so heavy!
Then on Saturday mornings I would re-work the route to collect what customers owed for their weekly papers and magazines. Sometimes I would be tipped.
A bit later on I also took on a evening route, delivering the Bristol Evening Post, or Bristol Evening World. I was an over-achiever even then.
I think that I had these morning and evening routes until I was 16.
Frank Moore liked me because I was reliable. But he never paid me what I was worth!
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