In the first part of this serialization, Henry talked about having to get a full time job at the age of 12 after his father had passed away.  In this next part, he talks further about his duties and also about the man he worked for...

Was this a dairy farm, or was it a mixed farm?

Yes, mixed farm - thirty-five hundred acres.

What else did you have to do between milking?

Everything.  Hedge cutting, and everything else in the wintertime, all along.

Did you do the laying of the hedges?

That's right, lay it an' then bind it down, an....mostly I done was cut some wood in a spinney - cut the young undergrowth down, and faggot it up into faggots - between milkings.  I had to go an' milk in the mornin', and 'ave me breakfast an' then go straight down into this wood...cut this wood - cut it down as I went on, an' faggot it up...an' that's what I done for about three months.

And then the spring came.

An' then the spring came an'...I soon grow'd some feathers then...an' got back Banbury way...yeh...a bit out in the wilds there.  But they were the best natured folks at Leafield as I ever come across.  They was....they was alright if you worked with em' - but if you was...went against them, you was in the wrong place.  The first time as I went in the public 'ouse they said to me "take the top off o' this" an' I never knowed them, no more than they knowed me - an' when I got round the room, taking the top off everybody's, I didn't want to buy none meself! They were, they were the good-natured folks as ever I knowed.
(Dharma's note: The 'public 'ouse' that he talks about is the pub aka bar.  'Taking the top off' means they let him take a drink from their glass of beer.  It might sound strange to you, but it was a common occurence back then, and it indicated a trust in the person invited to 'take the top off'.)

And what did they do for you?  Did you live in there?

No, I....I'd got me boys with me...got me wife an' boys, y'see.  Yes, that were the coldest place, but this one I worked for...'e was good-natured in many ways, you know what I mean?  He's said to me "you can 'ave a ton of coal, pay me when you like, an' it'll run out one and thruppence a hundredweight" he said, "I've got two trucks in"....he done all the lot of us as worked for 'im the same - I drawed it from the station - "an' put it in your 'ovel, one and' thruppence a hundredweight" - 'an that's what we 'ad, we ad' a ton of coal - good job we did, that winter.

And these faggots that you were cutting they were for...?

Ther were for the farm...yes... when I'd done up 'em, y'see, he'd come and cart them away.  Many a time when I've walked through the wood, well, I've knowed they were there...at Leafield, they were the biggest poachers there is...many a time I've walked through the wood and they've been in there...an' they'd say "well, you seen nothing, have you?" I said "no".  They've said, "when you come back, look on a certain tree, there'll be a couple of rabbits there for ye".  Well, it didn't pay me to see 'em - no, it didn't pay me to see 'em.

They were, they were good natured folks ...an' made a lot of wine, an' they were - nearly every 'ouse in Leafield, the folks made gloves, working for the Witney folk.  They used to bring them out, these gloves, or cut 'em out, or whatever they done...an' they used to do 'em for 'em, you know, for...selling.  I don't know what they used to...well, not very much - about a penny a pair I think they used to get for it, that's all.  Well, they made a livin' on it.  O' course, a penny then WAS a penny.  I think we used to give a penny....tuppe ha'penny for a pint - a pint o' drink (beer). An' look at it now! You ad' three pints an' you was wobbling up the road!

All ther....they're nearly all one name in Leafield.  Well, they was than an' that was Pratleys...an' they come from the Forest.  Ye've heard of Wychwood Forest, han't ye?  Well, they reckon they'd come out o' the Forest...an' my God, they...well, the old folks as were there then...were robust me, you know what I mean?  They were, they were as strong as lions!

Of course, you're right on the edge of the Forest there..

Right on the edge.  You go an' plough in a field today, an' the nest day there was a big 'ole, as if a bomb 'ad dropped,, an' the ground 'ad caved in.   That was where they done the Forest, then.  You see, they cleared all the trees....'an it 'ad sort of caved in. It's all walls round there, y'see, for miles, Chipping Norton 'an all. You've seen.  When we lived at Leafield, y'could see the cars coming down Stow on the Wold, down the road with lights.

But it was horses that you had?

Oh, it was horses, yes....it was horses, twenty-eight, seven-three horse teams - every carter had his three horses, an' the martinggales on, the shiners on the bridles and breastplates - on a nice day in the spring or...when the sun shone on these brasses, they used to dazzle ye. Oh, they was, they was looked after.

And of course the farm would be a busy place in those days. Nowadays, you don't see many people around, do you?

No, an' you don't see many 'orses, either d you?  Now there's nothing afresh for...see some o' them running away - bolted..oh no, that there wasn't.  They'd got the life in 'em - oh yes.

'An then I come back from there - I'd twelve months there - 'an I come back to me ...down to Bicester.

Very different country there.

Yes, altogether.

In the next installment, Henry tells of his job at Bicester - which turned out to be very different from what he was doing at Leafield.