Opposite our shop was a kind of "house shop" owned by some people called Ellicot. They curled and dyed ostrich feathers. There was always a small display in the window and they looked beautiful. The front door was solid wood and there was a half circular glass window at the top; I think it was called a fanlight. My dad must have had a mischievous streak at one time for fun he tied some string to the Ellicot's door knocker and then passed it through our upstairs window opening. He watched Mr Ellicot go upstairs with his candle, then pulled the string, down came the old chap, opened the door, found no-one there and went back upstairs again. I think Dad did it once more. The next day Mr Ellicot came over and complained about the "Lee" boys in the greengrocers shop next door. I guess Dad felt a bit ashamed of himself, but I reckon he made it up to the old chap.
There was a confectioners named Jackson's nearby. Mrs Jackson was a big built woman and a cockney. Mr Jackson was a short thick set man. There were quite a few hooligans around and they thought nothing of grabbing a handful of sweets and making off with them. One time Mrs Jackson caught one of them and Mr Jackson stood in the back of the shop shouting "Punch him in the belly Emma, punch him in the belly!" There was pork butcher's close by too, a grocer's we called Teapot Jones and a shop named Curtis. One time when I was about 3, a girl we knew called Della Curtis came to see if I would like to go to the seaside. Well, we went off together and what she thought was the seaside was in fact a ditch where people threw all sorts of rubbish! I came home on a policeman's shoulders! I was put in the bath, clothes and all, and wasn't allowed out with her again.
Near us lived a teenage boy who was a real menace in the neighbourhood. He was unfortunately deaf and dumb and had a habit of grabbing a handful of garbage and throwing it in through a shop door. If the shopkeeper complained somebody soon said "Oh leave him alone, poor little devil, he can't help it". A few doors from us there was a hand laundry run by a Mrs Dixon who worked very hard laundering shirts, stiff collars, church surplices and christening robes which were four or five feet long. She used to the ironing on the shop counter. One day my father was standing at our shop door when a heavy flat iron came hurling out through Mrs Dixon's shop door. My father went along and said "Whatever happened Dixon, you might have killed someone!" She replied " Look what the dummy's done. I have to deliver this surplice in an hour!" There it was on the counter plastered with rotten orange and rubbish. After some time the boy went to a shooting range, interfered with the guns, and shot himself.
There was a barber's shop on the other side of the street named Smith. The Smiths were friends of my parents and belonged to the same church; Mr Smith was a deacon. There was one other shop, I remember called Caldori's, where they used to sell lemony ices in the summer and soup in your own jugs in the winter. Quite a lot of the trading was done on a Saturday after the men had received their pay packets and the shops were open very late. I am not sure when the Shop Hours act was introduced but I know our shop took most money on a Saturday night. Then a Sunday market was opened and that put paid to our Saturday night trade. On no account would our shop be opened on a Sunday; my parents and grandparents were strict Baptists. So the shop had to be closed down when I was three years old.
*This link to shops and pubs in Canning Town may be of interest
http://historyofstratford.co.uk/CanningTown/CanningTown1896/CanningTown-Quadrant-Rathbone.shtml
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