IT had been the unofficial tuck shop for thousands of schoolchildren for decades. When the splendid sweetshop at 106 Widemarsh Street, Hereford, closed in 1964 it is to be hoped the news was broken gently to the boys and girls.

It was the end of a delicious era. No more would youngsters be able to squeeze into the little shop and slowly swivel 180 degrees and gaze wide-eyed at the goodies on offer. Pulling down the shutters in March 1964 for the last time were Mr and Mrs William King who had owned the shop for 40 years, having moved there from Abergavenny shortly after their marriage in 1923. Their business was a boon to the pupils at the nearby High School for Boys and High School for Girls, the latter becoming the Bluecoat School.

Providing hungry customers, too, was All Saints' School. To generations of pupils at all three schools they had doled out gobstoppers, liquorice allsorts, lemonade and ice cream. They got to know many of the boys and girls by their christian names and to most of the children they were known as 'Auntie' and 'Uncle'. The war brought sweet rationing but the Kings had beaten officialdom to it. They had introduced their own system to ensure that the young customers each had their fair share. The Kings were also ahead of the times when it came to selling their wares further afield.

No mere 'stop me and buy one' pedal tricycle for them. Their 'pure ices' were sold from a splendid converted 1926 Austin Seven with the roof raised so that a pint-sized assistant could stand inside. The post-war years brought more money and a greater variety of sweets. ''The boys spent sixpence where they once spent one halfpenny, but they still wanted as much as possible for their money,'' recalled Mrs King.

The Kings took with them into retirement many happy memories of 106 Widemarsh Street, especially the visits by former pupils who took along their own children to buy sweets. But it was not just the schools who provided custom. Also bidding a wistful goodbye 32 years ago were numerous Hereford United fans who called in for rations on their way to Edgar Street. Those were the days of grab and twist that preceded pick 'n' mix. The large jars of sweets would be gripped by the Kings and the lids swiftly twirled off to give the supporters sustenance. Especially popular on cold winter evenings for Southern League matches under floodlights was a quarter pound of aniseed and rock. Lumps often stuck together which presented a good excuse for eating two sweets at a time, preferably one of each variety!

Then, with the double delight wedged in a cheek, the fan would head down Blackfriars Street as the whistled rendition of 'Colonel Bogey' would crackle over the Edgar Street tannoy. There have, of course, been many other sweet shops that evoke happy memories of bygone days. One such confectioner was Sellack's in St Owen Street which served the most delightful ice cream and where sweets were plopped into pretty pink carrier bags. One Herefordian recalls being taken by his mother to Sellack's, then on to Marks and Spencer for Kunzel cakes and finally to the cattle market for a tour. Still very much a popular haunt for boys and girls as it has been for generations is Wathens in King Street.

Many is the Cathedral School youngster who has stopped off for goodies on their weary trek back from the Wyeside sports ground. A large cornet of home-made ice cream scooped out by old Mr Wathen sitting by the magic silver machine would replace all that lost energy! Those children feeling hot and bothered after a 'skins versus shirts' match on the King George Playing Fields would summon up one last burst of effort to cross the Victoria Bridge and head for the weird-shaped kiosk that stood on the path surrounding the Castle Green for decades. And mums would meet at an appointed time under the art deco clock at the old Odeon Cinema to take their children for an ice cream in the restaurant.

To young eyes it all seemed very grand, with a climb up the sprawling, rubber-edged steps to the large room where waitresses watched your self-conscious walk to the table. What an anti-climax. The puny little cylindrically-shaped lumps of ice cream tasted bland and waxy, but not a word was said. One didn't moan about treats.

In total contrast were the visits to the Continental Cafe in Eign Street. Great scoops of creamy ice cream were gently introduced to a long glass of sparkling lemonade. Effervescent ecstasy!