There was a guy at the end of our street called Harry Grant and he married Joany Kris-and he used to be a driver of one of these things so when I was about 9 I would go out with him. He was over in Tyndall Street where the Celtic Bay hotel is now, that was a railway depot, If you go there now you can still see the archways the trucks went underneath. I used to wait outside the gateway and as he came out with his horse and van I would jump on because his bosses didn't mind. I would be out with him all day and he would give me my dinner. We would go all around central Cardiff delivering parcels Up Fredrick Street and to the Warehouses. There were people that sold fancy goods, ashtrays and crockery and electrical goods from these warehouses. In the night he would let me help him take the horse back. There was two, Tiger who you couldn't go near because he would kick you anyway he would put me up on the other one and I would hang on the neck collar and he would wonder off down through the railway yard with me riding him. The trains would be shunting all these carriages about but he seemed to know where to go. He would take me around to the stables under the railway arches. Harry and I would then take al the tack off, brush them down and make sure they had their feed and bed them down for the night.