Web Page 2900 17th April 2022 First Picture: Gauntlet and Walker Bottle

Second Picture: Typical Milk float

Third Picture: Jubbly Orange Drink Carton Going Out with the Milkman I do not mean going out on a date with him but assisting him on his Saturday morning round. This happened to me when I was about 12 years old when our regular milkman, Roy, from the Gauntlet and Walker Dairy asked if I would like to help him each Saturday morning for a month as his usual boy was away on holiday. I would start from our house on the Havant Road along to Rectory Avenue and as it involved not too strenuous work for half a day and paid 10/- plus all the milk and orange juice I could drink. I readily said ‘Yes’. So having got my parents agreement the next Saturday I became a Junior Milkman. Must admit that I did not realise that the job would involve quite so much walking and by the end of the round my legs really ached. Having got the knack of carrying several empty bottles at once, life was good. The biggest house we delivered to was Farlington Manor which stood in its own land on the corner of the Havant Road and Gillman Road. Here we drove round to the back of the house to deliver milk to the cook via the scullery. This was the first time I had been this close to the manor and it was all very exciting. I remember the walls of the corridors were painted cream and green and the kitchen was tiled out with white tiles. Here the cook made us tea and gave us sandwiches in case we got hungry later, a kindness we both appreciated. rested here for a time or until the Butler came below stairs and insisted we carried on with our milk round duties. I also remember a couple of other below stairs servants but they all seemed in awe of the Butler. Our next stop was to turn into a narrow gateway between the church fence and the main road. This led to Councillor Mrs Kerrs Farm which she ran with her husband. The place always looked a mess and I never did figure out what the farms main crop was apart from piles of rubbish. There is an unfortunate story of how a previous farmer had drowned himself in the cess pit there. Details of which can be found in one of my Drayton Books. By now time was getting on and by the time we reached Rectory Road it was time to look and see what goodies the cook had packed for us. Here I clearly remember a word of warning that Roy gave me over these sandwiches. Always hold the sandwich bb the crust and eat down to the crust. But do not eat the crust as you hands had been holding it and they were dirty from the milk bottles. So the crusty crust had to be thrown away. Sensible really. I only did the job for four Saturdays until the regular lad came back but by that time I had secured a part time job as a petrol pump attendant in Davy Smiths Garage in Farlington. But that was another story. Stay in touch Peter gsseditor@gmail.com