An Afternoon With Bessie

In my childhood years our bread was delivered by Ronnie and Herbert and Bessie the horse which pulled the baker's van. One glorious school-holiday afternoon, my friend Averil and I went with them on their round. We clambered up onto the driver's perch and were allowed to hold the reins. Bessie clip-clopped up Broadway and Broadoak Road, she knew all the houses where she had to stop and would stand waiting whilst one of the boys delivered the bread in a large basket, - it was usually Herbert, the one with cottonwool stuffed in his ears. Ronnie was the sparkling one who, when we reached the farm, pretended that a loaf had fallen off the van and then fed it to the ducks and moorhens waiting on the pond.
To us, our afternoon with Bessie was an adventure, - the sort that is no longer available for today's children.