This is a closer view of Ned Booth's cottage, showing the name of the district, on the name-plate. It was below that name, that Ned had a rain-tub. And he caught me as a five year old, stealing his rhubarb out of his front garden, and promptly ducked me head first into his barrel of water. It was in Hyde Str., and level with that name-plate, that I smashed up my very first bike, by hitting a protruding man-hole, whilst guiding my bike with one hand, and in the other I carried a pint mug full of black peas. That was around 1917. This was the cottage to which we would go to exchange potato peelings etc. for dolly mixtures.