SAM Emery, the old-time clogger, coined a witty trade slogan that still flits through the minds of our greybearded generation.

Boldly emblazoned on the display window of his busy corner shop was the title: 'Hospital for all Poor Soles.'

And one who remembers this well is former Cowley pupil Fred Clare of Bickerstaffe, born nearly eight decades ago almost within touching distance of Sam's St Helens clog factory, now a private dwelling at the corner of Stanhope Street with Rutland Street.

Sam is on the 'honours list' in a small book of verse penned by Fred and which looks back with great fondness upon the sights, sounds, schools, shopkeepers and characters to be encountered during his St Helens boyhood.

It's entitled 'Past Days On Cowley Hill' - a sort of way-we-were reflection on that particular pocket of the borough.

Fred, born at 129 Stanhope Street, recalls that Victoria Park was his nearest open-space playground, but many adventurous hours were spent on the pavements of the neighbouring side-streets where many of his childhood recollections are rooted.

He flicks back to a time when the park Mansion House had a museum where he and knee-pant pals ran for shelter from the rain.

By comparisdon with a bygone era, Victoria Park is in a rather sorry state these days.

But Fred recalls better times.

"In fine weather we played by a lovely terracotta fountain, dipping small hands into its clear water."

His early schooldays were spent at Windle School in Queen Street, demolished in the 1970s.

Headmaster was W. H. Evans, equally well known as organist and choirmaster of St Mark's Church in nearby North Road.

That was in an age of backyard loos - prone to freezing up in the winter - and when a fleeting figure in oil-stained raincoat would trudge around lighting the street gaslamps at dusk.

Mother Ashall's front-parlour wonderland of a shop, Graham's chippy, Groves's barber shop, Alice Jackson's bakehouse, Phythians corner shop, famous for its piping hot pea soup, and the gang of kids he grew up with all tumble from Fred's little publication with its 13 items of original verse.

In his 'Memories of Sam', Fred draws a vivid word picture of the old-time clogger, sitting at his cobbler's last.

Only memory's pictures can let us see again

Sam Emery's shop streaked in winter rain,

Or the portly figure said to like his ale

In a corner factory making clogs for sale.

The hum of machinery from inside heard

In a cobbled street other houses shared

Now white clad on that corner stands

A once street industry and Sam's skilful hands

Shoes taken in came out looking new

'Hospital for Poor Soles' his motto true!

Sam, sleeves rolled, in leather apron stood,

Arms folded, he knew his work was good.

The setting sun shone through his windows

As he worked with the leather in powerful fingers.

Knew many people passing in the street

And children playing Hide and Seek.

The lamplighter, in fleeting moth-like way,

Round Cowley Hill at the close of day.

THANKS Fred for supplying that super slice of nostalgia. I plan soon to pluck further memories from the pages of your little book.

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.