As a child I practically lived in Burbury Park with my friends. In the winter we would play football and in the summer cricket. My freinds and I knew every inch of that park.
After hours on balmy summers evenings when the gates were locked, we would climb over the spiked railings (for which I have a scar on my right knee from impaling myself) and generally hide and play in the boundary shrubs without the park-keeper realising.
I fondly remember walking through the park one wet and raining summer afternoon (things don't change) following a man when, my friend Robert noticed that he had stooped to pick-up a ten bob note. Rob whinged and said to me, 'If only we had been in front of him, it would be ours'?
Un-deterred I wet my eyes with spit to simulate tears and ran up to the man and asked in a crying, sorrowful voice, 'Excuse me mister, did you just find my ten shilling note - my mom will kill me, it was for coal'? He replied with a smile, 'Don't worry, you are very lucky - here it is son'.
I respectfully thanked him and ran-off with my old mate Robert to the nearest shop to buy some chocolate..... Am I ashamed of my deception???? Noooooooo way..... We were taught to live off our instincts in those days.
By the way - we had 5s each, of which I gave my mom the remaining 4/6d.
Oh how I loved that park....... keith