The George And Dragon

A Memory of Smallfield.

I worked behind the bar at The Plough on a Sunday evening from around 1974 as my parents were friends of the landlords, George and Edna.

George was a proper old school landlord, always dressed in a jacket and tie, and taught me the etiquacys of bar work, like never allowing the neck of a bottle to touch the glass, leaving the sediment of Worthington White Shield in the bottle unless the customer had a strong constitution and wanted it in. You had to watch who was next to serve in a busy bar and add up the round in your head as you went along.

Edna could be a little terse, hence the George and Dragon, but she was always polite to me.

Fortunately, neither knew me and my friends responsible for our previous activities when younger of returning empty bottles and receiving the returned deposit, only to climb over the fence at the back and grab some more empties.

Sadly George contracted throat cancer and had a voice box fitted, yet continued to work. Eventually I think they retired to the south coast around Wittering.

I recall some interesting characters, some of whom had never been out of the village!