Poverty, basically. When I was about 10 years old my pocket money was 2 shillings (10p) a week. Not too shabby at the time, but the local council payed 6d for every rat you killed - proved by cutting off their tails and presenting them at the council office

- so I could earn a week's pocket money by bagging just 4 rats on the poultry farms that surrounded my village or on the local tip. Having a half-decent air rifle was a ticket to riches beyond my wildest dreams !
The first step was to hang around with the older lads who'd already got rifles and might let you have a shot or two if you weren't a nuisance, or occasionally borrowing a BSA Cadet Major (too heavy for me, but who cares !) that belonged to a mate's older brother. I think I swapped a bike for the first I owned outright - a smallish Webley that wasn't very powerful but was just about good enough at the sub-15 yard ranges we were usually shooting at. It taught me to "get good" quickly because a missed shot was lost money !