When I was a small boy, my room light had a pendant switch – not a switch on the ceiling with a dangling string, but a switch in a plastic bulb on the end of a pair of dangling wires – just like the one in the picture. (Are they still legal? If so, Why?)
The top half of the bulb simply unscrewed – and I got a hell of a shock when curiosity got the better of me one evening. And the light went out, of course. I left it like that until early the next morning, when by daylight I VERY carefully put it all back together before my parents found out...they never did.
It wasn’t easy putting it back together – the bits had sprung all over the place, and the thing was still live. From messing about with my electric train set I understood enough about electricity to realize that it was the metal bits that carried the electricity, and at this voltage I needed to avoid touching them with my bare hands.
Fuses? What are they? Even if I’d known about them, I wouldn’t have wanted to be caught fiddling with them.
Three lessons: in Electricity, Fiddly Assembly Work, and Clandestine Activity.
About 1958 I think, in which case I was about eight years old.