Ten Bags of Chips and Two
Pieces of Cod....
In this modern time of
plenty, with fridges, freezers and cupboards bulging with food, it is hard to
imagine ravaging hunger. During the Second
World War and for a few years afterwards, back home in Ireland, Mum did her best to keep the
gang of us fed. It was hard work for her.
During late summer it was not too bad as she knew all the secret places where wild strawberries, blackberries, gooseberries, apples, nuts and other such goodies could be gathered out in the country. At other times more devious means had to be employed..................
During late summer it was not too bad as she knew all the secret places where wild strawberries, blackberries, gooseberries, apples, nuts and other such goodies could be gathered out in the country. At other times more devious means had to be employed..................
With such a large
family, Mum got extra tea coupons (Ration
coupons that is, which were needed for everything). When I say they
were pure gold-dust, you have to believe me. If you bargained wisely with the
farming community, you could have the best farm produce for a few tea coupons. The farmers had to have their strong tea.
Mum was obliged to be a part of it. In actual fact, even after the coupons were finished, she was remembered for them.
Almost every Thursday she would send us out the country to a farmhouse, Mrs. White, where we were to ask for a drink of water. Of course when we got there, the farmer’s wife would not dare give us water. Instead, we were given large mugs of creamy milk, chunks of freshly baked bread, (Thursday was her baking day) farmhouse butter and homemade jam. We could have as much as we could eat....
Of course, on return home, Mum would ask if anyone wanted tea but always got a chorus of “No thanks Mum, we're full"...................
One beautiful summer's Saturday night, Mum and about eight of us were sitting on the steps outside the house waiting for Dad to come home. At about ten o'clock we saw him walking up the street.
You could see that he was in a really happy mood. He said to me, and not for the first time, “Which one are you?" “I'm Mick, Dad" I replied, hoping that the usual follow up question and result would come from him. And that was “How old are you now Mick?" I would say ˜Eight" or whatever and sure enough he would always say “Did I give you a birthday present on your last birthday?" I never, ever answered “Yes" but always “No Dad, you must have forgotten" and this generally resulted in the receipt of a sixpenny piece.
However, this night, the conversation never took that route. Instead he said “Run down to Tony Kelly's", (the Fish and Chip shop man) ˜and get ten bags of chips and a nice piece of cod. Tell him they are for Paddy R...…...". He gave me the money and away I ran.
Mum was obliged to be a part of it. In actual fact, even after the coupons were finished, she was remembered for them.
Almost every Thursday she would send us out the country to a farmhouse, Mrs. White, where we were to ask for a drink of water. Of course when we got there, the farmer’s wife would not dare give us water. Instead, we were given large mugs of creamy milk, chunks of freshly baked bread, (Thursday was her baking day) farmhouse butter and homemade jam. We could have as much as we could eat....
Of course, on return home, Mum would ask if anyone wanted tea but always got a chorus of “No thanks Mum, we're full"...................
One beautiful summer's Saturday night, Mum and about eight of us were sitting on the steps outside the house waiting for Dad to come home. At about ten o'clock we saw him walking up the street.
You could see that he was in a really happy mood. He said to me, and not for the first time, “Which one are you?" “I'm Mick, Dad" I replied, hoping that the usual follow up question and result would come from him. And that was “How old are you now Mick?" I would say ˜Eight" or whatever and sure enough he would always say “Did I give you a birthday present on your last birthday?" I never, ever answered “Yes" but always “No Dad, you must have forgotten" and this generally resulted in the receipt of a sixpenny piece.
However, this night, the conversation never took that route. Instead he said “Run down to Tony Kelly's", (the Fish and Chip shop man) ˜and get ten bags of chips and a nice piece of cod. Tell him they are for Paddy R...…...". He gave me the money and away I ran.
Five minutes later, I
found myself down a dark alley next to the chip shop with the paper package
containing the bags of chips and fish on my lap. Two chips out of that one. Two chips out of that one, two
out of that one, and so on.
However, I was very soon in Chip Heaven and forgot the count in my delight and greed. Suddenly I realised that I might have gone too far, so I wrapped them up and put them back in the package. I ran home to where they were all sitting on the steps in anticipation. I gave him the pack and he began to pass around the bags of chips.
Suddenly he exclaimed to Mum “Mother of God, Maggie, will you look at that. There's four chips in that bag for sixpence". And a moment later “Ah now, that's bloody robbery. There's only three in that one". He continued to check the other bags and he found no improvement. “Here Mick, take them straight back to Tony Kelly and tell him that I want my money back".
Once again in my short life, (I was now about seven), FEAR took hold. It was always a battle inside me as to who I feared most. Mum could be trouble. However, I never blamed her when I got the dishcloth around my ears -just like a whip - because I always deserved it when she gave it. Although, I dreaded her giving me a lecture - once, my brothers tell me, that I did in fact ask her to stop telling me off and to hit me instead.
On the other hand, Dad frightened the living daylights out of me. Strange really, as I never saw him in a fight, have a proper row, or in fact, ever say a harsh word to my mother.
So, what was I to do? Certainly not admit my crime. Run away. No, I couldn't do that. I decided to be devious. I returned to the Chip Shop and spoke to Tony's son. I said “I bought these earlier, but my Dad says he does not want them anymore. He wants his money back". I can only think that this must have happened to him quite often, or that he did not care a damn about the business, or that he knew only too well what I had done, but he gave me the money back. I threw him the pack and ran for all I was worth..............................
Oddly enough, many years later when I mentioned this story to one of my sisters, she told me of having done the same with a loaf of bread. First a nibble, then a pinch, and before she knew it, she ended up with a shell of a crust with no dough whatsoever left inside. She reckoned Mum beat her silly..................
I learned a very important lesson that night - never eat more than two chips from each bag in future and never ever be greedy....................
However, I was very soon in Chip Heaven and forgot the count in my delight and greed. Suddenly I realised that I might have gone too far, so I wrapped them up and put them back in the package. I ran home to where they were all sitting on the steps in anticipation. I gave him the pack and he began to pass around the bags of chips.
Suddenly he exclaimed to Mum “Mother of God, Maggie, will you look at that. There's four chips in that bag for sixpence". And a moment later “Ah now, that's bloody robbery. There's only three in that one". He continued to check the other bags and he found no improvement. “Here Mick, take them straight back to Tony Kelly and tell him that I want my money back".
Once again in my short life, (I was now about seven), FEAR took hold. It was always a battle inside me as to who I feared most. Mum could be trouble. However, I never blamed her when I got the dishcloth around my ears -just like a whip - because I always deserved it when she gave it. Although, I dreaded her giving me a lecture - once, my brothers tell me, that I did in fact ask her to stop telling me off and to hit me instead.
On the other hand, Dad frightened the living daylights out of me. Strange really, as I never saw him in a fight, have a proper row, or in fact, ever say a harsh word to my mother.
So, what was I to do? Certainly not admit my crime. Run away. No, I couldn't do that. I decided to be devious. I returned to the Chip Shop and spoke to Tony's son. I said “I bought these earlier, but my Dad says he does not want them anymore. He wants his money back". I can only think that this must have happened to him quite often, or that he did not care a damn about the business, or that he knew only too well what I had done, but he gave me the money back. I threw him the pack and ran for all I was worth..............................
Oddly enough, many years later when I mentioned this story to one of my sisters, she told me of having done the same with a loaf of bread. First a nibble, then a pinch, and before she knew it, she ended up with a shell of a crust with no dough whatsoever left inside. She reckoned Mum beat her silly..................
I learned a very important lesson that night - never eat more than two chips from each bag in future and never ever be greedy....................
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