Runaway Sheep

A Memory of Shrewsbury.

This date is approximate.

As children my brother John and I attended St Mary's on Town Walls and after school we would make our way towards Barker Street to catch the bus to Springfield, we would spin around the revolving doors at the Hotel across from the Old Victorian Market Hall (I think it was called the George) and be hurled into the street, then across we would go to the old market hall and scrounge broken fruit and bits of toffee from the vendors (brilliant fun), then we would divert down to the old Smithfield Cattle market to watch the various livestock (poor things) being slaughtered by peeping over the doors and frightening ourselves to death, only then to be chased off by the big burly slaughtermen. My brother John went on to work at the Smithfield on Saturdays, I went along to keep him company once only to witness him being unceremonously dragged on the wet cobble stones the full length of the market by an enraged sheep, best laugh I have ever had.

Ah! those were the days.