There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza.

From a grayscale watercolour by Noel Guthrie

This bucket hanging on the post reminds me of a story when I was working in Fairlie for a building firm by the name of Carlton Bros during the 1950s.
I had been there for a couple of years I suppose when a new apprentice started work.
Several members of the Carlton family worked in the firm, one, in particular, was John Carlton, or Darkie was his nickname.  He was a joker in the pack, just couldn't help himself.  He loved a bit of harmless fun,
A new apprentice, like most of us at the tender age of 15 were gullible and caught by one of Darkie's jokes, at one time or other.
This day, during our morning tea break, Darkie asked the new young bloke if he would pop over to the Canterbury Farmers Co-op, machinery dept and get four gallons of free air and tell Bernie Welch the manager to charge it up..  Eager to please, this lad goes on his way,
Arriving at the Machinery Dept, he told Bernie, that Darkie had sent him over for four gallons of free air and to just charge it up to the firm.  Bernie almost wet himself on the spot, not able contain his laughter, he rushed out the back.
Returning with tears still in his eyes, he said come with me lad.  Putting the air hose in the empty four-gallon kerosene tin he squirted air into it.  Should be enough in there now lad he said, quickly screwing on the cap.  The young fella asked if it was very heavy?  Bernie dashed back in the shop before he began a bout of uncontrollable laughter.
Whistling his favourite tune 'White Sports Coat'  that young bloke never gave it another thought that Darkie may be playing a joke on him. He had to laugh at his own gullibility
when it dawned on him, he'd been had.