'Rags, rags, rags', he'd shout. The Ragman was a fella on a horse and cart, he'd have goldfish in little jars. He'd give you one if you brought down a good clover coat or some other article. Sometimes me Da noticed things missing and he's lost the head. The Ragman always came of a Friday or Saturday morning - right, when he'd know your parents would be working or out getting messages. He's come of a Tuesday as well because he'd know the women would be up washing their clothes in the wash house by the Iveagh market. He stopped coming around 1967.
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