Abandoned #2

This governess cart was near the women's prison of yesterday - we had a golden brown one when I was small, pulled by a feisty shetland pony called Queenie. We lived up a 2 mile, grass centered track and although we could ride most of the way down to the village on the way back we had to get out and help Queenie by pushing the cart up the hills. The small twist of paper containing my sweet ration of brightly coloured liquorice roly polies must have fallen onto the floor, for it spilled its precious contents and they rolled out under the rear door and into the mud from which I wasn't allowed to retrieve them. Oh, the sorrows of childhood...!