A BOY AND A KING

Evening Star, Issue 22359, 8 June 1936, Page 10

A BOY AND A KING

THE STORY OF JOHN CASSIDY Millions of people have seen the famous picture of the late King George and the little ‘‘ paintpot lad ’’—the King smiling at the little black-faced fellow, who is grinning up into His Majesty’s face and cracking a little joke with him. John Cassidy, for that was the boy’s name, is now aged 3G years. He is an acetylene welder, and he lives in Sunderland, England. In ,1917 John Cassidy sprang to fame as the little shipyard boy who spoke-to the King. His photograph was published in the newspapers of a score of countries. John Cassidy, now a man, has told the story of his life to the • Daily Mirror, 1 through whose intervetion he has obtained work after four years of enforced idleness. “ Twenty years ago, as a ‘ paintpot lad ’ .at Laing’s Shipyard, 1 shook hands with King George—God rest him,” said Cassidy. “ I haye been treated like a king myself since by my own people, the poor Irish folk of South Johnston street, in Sunderland. Now 1 draw four shillings a week at a Government occupational camp. Rut [ am still looking forward to happier times.

“ They say the picture of His Majesty talking to me has pleased thousands of people all over the world. Around our way children still shout, ‘ There’s t’little chap who shook hands with t’King.’ Men still bet on the date and place of the meeting. But ask my pals if I ever mention it. But anyone who might think to shake hands with mo must take the left hand. Now that King George has passed to his rest I shall honour him in my heart and with my right hand as long as 1 live. All others must shake the left.

‘‘ When King George came to onr yard ip June, 1917, I was aged IG years and 3ft Gin in height. lam now 36 , and only a foot higher. What was it Little Johnny said to make the King laugh so heartily? I said: * You get the troops now, and we’ll get t’ships off.’ Something in him put me atiease and gave me courage. ’ “ That night yon would have thought a General Election was on with the men and lasses and children cheering and yelling outside our house in South Johnson street. Hundreds of people came to shake hands and kiss me. They made a little 1 ing of me. That night I lost the silver ring the King had chaffed me about. It was never found. ‘‘ When 1 was 21 there was a big ‘ pay off ’ at the Sunderland shipyard. I had been earning £3 14s a week as an acetylene welder. After my dismissal I tried to improve at the job, and got books and used ‘ The Pipe ’ whenever I got a chance. In those days nobody bothered about ‘ Little Johnny Cassidy.’ I kept on signing on at the labour exchange for more than four years.

“ But chaps everywhere grinned at me just the same, and I managed to grin back. My mother, back there in South Johnson street, is a good woman. She thinks I am still a

‘ canny bairn ’ who made the King and Queen of England smile. Well, I have not grown much. She is out of health now and I am worried. Doctor came ten times before 1 loft for the camp. Until a few weeks ago she had not been out of the house for 12 months. 1 went to Scarboroi gh camp gladly, to help the family out a bit, but I finish on April 1. Back to Sunderland. Back to my sister's children. I love children. King George did. Maybe 1 have been a bit wild in my time. That is all over. I want a job and a wife, a nice Sunderland girl, a home of my own, a settled life before me, with children and dogs for pals. “ Memories? Well, some are sad. But I have jewels to carry in my heart. . . . That (lay when the King came to see us building torpedo-boats, apd beckoned me out in front of all Sunderland.”

John Cassidy obtained work—the first for more than four years—as the result of the publication of his story. When Mr D. B. ivison, assistant works manager of the Blackburn Aeroplane and Motor Company, at Brough, near Hull, read that Cassidy—his great honour forgotten by the public— was earning 4s a w r eek a Government occupational camn he got in touch with the once-famous lad.