THIS TAPE HAS BEEN RECORDED ON THE 25TH OF JULY 1978 AT 17 CORNMILL TERRACE, BARNOLDSWICK. THE INFORMANT IS BILLY BROOKS AND THE INTERVIEWER IS STANLEY GRAHAM.
Now I’ve been thinking a lot about what you were saying during the week and I was talking to Newton and I told him that you said about there being an engine in Old Coates Mill because he weren’t sure. You said something else that interested me Billy. You were saying that at Clough Mill you remember seeing a beam engine in there.
R-Yes, I can tell of that.
Can you tell me about that, because you were telling me the name of the engine driver as well.
R-It were Mark Brown at that time, I remember, there might have been another after, I don’t know but it were Mark Brown and he lived on Rainhall Road, I can tell you th’house and his son and I went to school together, we were in the same class and he used to say to me Come on, let’s go and see me father up at Clough, and we went up and we waited until he stopped and then we come home together. We went many a time there, aye. [Billy’s recollection fits in with what we now know about the engines at Clough(December 2000). The Furneval engine was installed 1879/80 and though it started and replaced the old beam, this was not taken out because we know from the GS information about the Cotton Times report of 1891 that they tried to restart the beam to replace the Furneval which was obviously uneconomic. This coincided with disputes about pay in the town due to the manufacturers trying to extend the terms of ‘Local Disadvantage’ so we can safely assume that the trade was tight and margins were low. This attempt to switch back to the old engine failed because the beam engine was ‘too tight’ but it seems obvious that they did succeed because the mill ran until 1913 before the new BI engine was installed even though the Furneval was sold to Whalley in 1900. So we can be certain that Billy was right, the beam was in place during his schooldays and if he is talking about when he was nine or ten years old he could have seen it working.]
And that were a beam engine were it Billy?
R-It were a beam engine. I know just where it were too but of course it’s pulled down now. It weren’t far off the boilers, it were just at th’end o’t boiler house where it were situated but of course it’s pulled down now you know, aye. But it were Mark Brown, aye, Mark. I can, they lived on Rainhall Road, they’re made into shops now you know, about third round t’corner they lived, there were Willie Brown they called the lad, he were th’only lad they had, aye. And Mark used to be washing hissel’ you know, ready for stopping it, so he could just shut t’door and off you see.
Aye, that’s it. So it didn’t tek a lot of stopping then?
R-No. Well he did t’firing an all you know. I don’t remember a fireman. I remember a fireman in after years, one o’ Demains did it. Well of course, I’d a granddaughter who worked, wove there a bit and I once went in and it were one o’ Demains, he might be dead now, aye. He were, …. But I think them other engine’s were put in then you know, I don’t think that beam engine were in then. They were them under that tank weren’t they, there were a tank up at t’far…. Well, I think they’d be under there wouldn’t they, them engine’s that were put in. They’d be horizontals wouldn’t they, aye.
How old would you be about then Billy?
R-Well, when Mark, when I were going to school, we’d be about eight years old.
Aye, so that ud be about 1890 then?
R-Aye it would be, yes. We went to school together, aye. Yes. I can tell on it as plain as it were yesterday, aye.
Something I wanted to ask you from last week Billy. What were your father’s name?
R-James Brooks.
What was your mother’s name?
R-Annie. Annie, but her real name were Anna but they allus called her Annie. Her maiden name was Watkins and she come from down in Hereford or down that way. She had a brother lived down there who were a farmer and she had a brother at Wem in Shropshire called Tom Watkins.
How did she come to be up here Billy?
R-I don’t just know but she came to live up Town Head somewhere, up opposite, what do you call the house , Old Billycock’s?
Newfield edge.
R-Newfield Edge aye, she lived somewhere up there wi’ a couple. Like, they kind of adopted her in a way, called Chadwicks, aye. He were a mason and they went to Southport into a guest house after that did that couple. Now she gets married to me dad do you see, aye. And she were a red-cheeked lass you know, healthy, and she had eleven children. I think I get me good health off her ‘cause she were nobbut about twenty one when I were born but of course I, I nobbut heard about it as I got to know her, she allus had red cheeks and …. Aye.
Aye. Your first job when you left school Billy was down at Long Ing Shed wasn’t it? Can you remember any of the names of the firms that were in Long Ing when you started? Who were weaving there?
R-Yes. [Billy had misheard me and starts talking about individuals and families who worked there.] Well aye, I could name a lot, aye, I could name a lot. There were Dick Wilcock and his wife and son, Joe Wilcock and he’d either one or two daughters. I know where they worked when I were tenting for that chap, they worked a bit lower down, aye. And then there were Bob Cryer and his wife Bella who I tented for. At one time there were Jabez Soni(?), he finished up as a bookmaker and I think he were in a car accident or sommat. Oh, I could go round there, There were Tillotson’s family, Bill Tillotson, they called him Bill Gads, Gads aye. Well there were about three of them, they worked there.
Was it usual for a family, when they were weaving in a mill, was it usual for them all to weave together, like beams to each other?
R-Yes. Aye, nearly , they nearly allus worked, odd times they couldn’t just manage it you know, but mainly they were together. Aye, there were the Tillotson lasses, they had, there were a ten loom alley and a right old loom me uncle got me and another lass [when we were] half timers for two middle looms and there were four at each side, aye. And then there were an old Barlicker called Maggie Barker, she married Jim Thornton at t’finish in later life. And there were old Bill Pollard. Jim Dux, they called him Dux, he lived at the back of the Commercial where that booking office is, he lived there did Jim Dux and he had two lasses and they all worked there. And then there were Preston Jimmy wi’ two daughters, they called him Preston Jimmy, he come from Preston, he must have, ha ha! They all had a nickname you know had Barlickers in them days. Aye.
Did you have a nickname Billy?
R-Nay I don’t think so, no. I were like a bit young in them days. Aye, Jim Dux, well that weren’t his name but they called him Jim Dux aye.
Who were the firms that were in there then?
R-Robinson Brooks.
How many looms did they have?
R-Brooks? Four hundred and twenty one.
And who else was weaving at Long Ing then Billy?
R-Well, there were Ormerods, Slater Edmondson’s, Boocock’s and later on Jim O’Kits, Jim Edmondson, Jim O’Kits aye. There were 1200 looms up that side, it were built for 1200 looms but they built an annexe for Brooks two year after it started, in 1890. Long Ing were built in 1888 and them engines were put in by Yates and Thom from Blackburn [W&J Yates actually. Yates and Thom didn’t amalgamate until later.] for twelve hundred looms and they spoilt t’job wi’ shoving another four hundred and twenty on to ‘em, it wasn’t made for that.
You said it was oil lamps down there was it?
R-Aye, at Coates.
Oh, at Coates. What was the lighting at Long Ing?
R-Gas, ordinary split burners, th’old fashioned split burners. Aye and t’tacklers used to go round wi’ a lamp wi’ oil in and some holes in it and they used to touch it you know [the oil lamp] it used to smoke up, it filled th’hoil wi’ smook, aye. Ha ha ha! Aye it did. They were waiting on ‘em turning t’gas on you see wi’ them lamps, they were smooking, it were loom oil that they had in ‘em you know, wi’ wicks on and they just used to go round and touch ‘em you know. And then there were a manager at that time after me uncle Willy had died (William Brooks) [the new manager was George Brooks] , he used to turn the gas on and you know there were a handle on it. It were one of them with a mark across you know, [What Billy is describing is an old fashioned plug cock that turned 90 degrees to be fully open. The mark he talks about was a line scribed across the top of the cock which corresponded with the hole through the plug. When the line was aligned with the pipe the cock was fully open, when across the pipe it was closed.] He used top turn it reight round and then he turned t’damned lot out you know and they’d to light ‘em again, aye, he did that regular! (Laughter from both) Aye he did, George Brooks they called him aye, instead of going back you know he turned it reight round you see and he’d shut it off and they’d all went out, they had to go round again aye. (More laughter) That happened many a time.
That ud be towns gas Billy?
Oh yes, it came from here. [Billy’s house on Cornmill Terrace was alongside the gas works.]
And just to get it straight, you started your working life, you started weaving at Long Ing Shed.
R-Aye, half time.
Yes, and then in between, before you actually started taping, did you go to work at Coates Mill for a bit?
R-No, you see when I come to be (13) I’d four looms then and when I come up to sixteen I started going up to me dad at mealtimes and owertime at night and I gradually learned you see and then I used to do owertime for him when I got to be about seventeen and eighteen. I used to do owertime and he went home do you see. When t’Barlick holidays were coming, about a month before, he says Robinson, (that were’t boss) He wants us to keep warps in so’s folk can addle a bit for’t holidays and he says we can’t do it unless there’s owertime. He says If you’ll do a month’s owertime while about eight at night I’ll gi’ thee a pound. So I got a pound for that. That happened many a time and he gave me a pound. Well, it were a pound in them days. Well you know I went to Blackpool for a week, I used to raise about four pound to go wi’ tha knows, aye.
Aye, I remember you telling me that a feller called Thomas Henry taught your father to tape.
R-Aye, well, he were an Earby chap and he come to start for Brooks and then he were going to start for himself at Earby along with one or two more Earbyers. I don’t know what company they called it but he went to Earby so of course he learned me father to tape you see. Robinson Brooks, [was helping Jim to get on] you see me father had, he were tackling but he only had a little set of looms, it were split up that way you see. Well he had a big family coming on you know and him and Robinson were full cousins so he were like helping him on that way and he said We’ll get thee learned to tape you see, aye, so that’s how he started. That’d be about 1892 when he started alearning [sic] to tape. I think Brooks had been going [at Long Ing] about two years then when this Thomas Henry wanted to go back and start for theirselves.
How big were a tackler’s set then Billy?
R-Well, there were about four tacklers for 421 looms. Let’s see, there were Tom Smith, Wilson Horsfield, Matt Horsfield, well, there were three tacklers, I don’t know whether there were three or four I forget now.
Well, there’d be three and your dad wouldn’t there?
R-Aye, that’s right, aye.
You say that your dad only had a little set, how big was his set?
R-Well I think he’d have about eighty looms or sommat like that you know. Seventy or eighty.
Would those looms that were in there, would they be plain looms or were there some motion looms as well Billy?
R-They were all plain 38” Coopers and 40’s and 43’s that’s what they were. There were seventy Pillings looms that were made at Primet Bridge at Colne wi’ John Pillings that were brought out of Clough where they [Robinson Brooks] started wi’ ‘em. In later years they took ‘em out and replaced ‘em wi’ Coopers, it were a shame, they were good looms and all. They break ‘em up wi’ a hammer in’t warehouse and put some [more in]. It were all two up and two down, you know, plain, two up and two down.
Aye, that’s it, four shaft. When a company moved Billy, I mean Brooks started at Clough didn’t they. When they moved from Clough to Long Ing, who moved their looms?
R-Well I can’t say. I don’t know.
Well, during your time Billy can you remember seeing looms being moved about the town, you know, from one shed to another?
R-Aye, it were Herbert Hoggarth. It were Herbert Hoggarth that moved ‘em nearly all, he died about six months since, he lived on Kelbrook Road. It were Herbert Hoggarth, they were Salterforth folk and I think he had a brother that were’t engine driver at….
That’s it, George Hoggarth.
R-Aye well he’d be dead long afore. Well Herbert Hoggarth had that mechanic’s shop on there [Wellhouse Road] Gissing and Lonsdale bought him out. Well he did all the shifting when they were doing that shifting during that period you know. And they were getting rent for nowt. Twelve months for nowt wi’ power you know.
That’s interesting Billy. That’s something I’ve been told before, that the shed companies would give somebody say three or six month’s rent free to get ‘em to move into a place.
R-Aye and they paid for the flitting of the looms. Aye they did.
And I’ve heard people say that many a time firms would move from one mill to another just to get the free rent.
R-Well, it’s reight, you could, it nearly made you think so. Well, Brooks, when they built Westfield Shed, they formed the Westfield Shed Company. Now there were [the shareholders] Robinson Brooks, there were Billycock’s daughter and then Fred Harry Slater, there were three of ‘em. Now we all, Brooks had nine hundred loom and they let 400 off to Whiteoak you see. Now Whiteoaks must have flitten to Salterforth or sommat and they [The Westfield Shed Company] flit some new tenants in [According to Worrall for 1939 it was Procter and Company with 406 looms] and allowed ‘em twelve months free rent. Well, Chris Brooks didn’t like the idea of that, he said that they should have been allowed a bit of sommat when other firms could do that. But they were outvoted two to one and told he was entitled to nowt because he wasn’t flitting. The rent had been allowed solely to get the new tenant in. You see Billycock’s daughter and Slaters had two votes and Brooks only had one so it didn’t come off. Well, we’ll flit then [Brooks], we’ll flit, because they’d get free rent up at Calf Hall you understand me. Well, now then, Wilfred Nutter took the room [at Westfield] and he wanted to rue [give backword] did Brooks but they said it’s too late we’ve signed wi’ Wilfred, so Wilfred got moved in from somewhere, Bankfield I think or somewhere for twelve month for nowt.
In Westfield?
R-Aye, to Westfield you see.
Yes, what date would that be Billy, any idea?
R-Well, let’s see, that would be , well it’d be about, war started in 1940 didn’t it, well it ‘ud be about 1938 as near as I can tell you, about 1938 aye. Because t’war started about a year after they’d been up at Calf Hall. They’d got their looms flit up to Calf Hall and twelve month for nowt. Well now, the Rover Company took Calf Hall over then you know. Now then, when Wilfred Nutter’s lease were up about twelve month or whatever it were, they [the WSC company] wouldn’t renew it, we want you out and we want to get back, aye. So they get back into Westfield because in the meantime they’d bought t’others out and were sole owners of Westfield then were Brooks. They bought them shares of Billycock’s daughter and Slaters and so they said out you go, aye, they got back, aye.
Aye. How many pubs were there in Barlick in them days Billy?
R-Same as there is now. There were Foster’s Arms, Railway, Commercial;, Cross Keys and t’Greyhound, aye, just the same.
Aye, and the Seven Stars?
R-Oh aye, Seven Stars.
When you were a lad Billy, and you were living on Newtown, was Newtown paved? Was it setts or were it a dirt road or what.
R-Well it were a limestone road and there weren’t a roller or nowt, but it used to get trodden down, I don’t know however it managed. We had cart ruts for a while you know, that’s all. [I think Billy might mean stones laid like a track for cart wheels to roll on.] And in after years they paved it wi’ them little square setts. Now they were like a new invention but they turned out to be slippery or sommat down that bit of a hill so that they covered ‘em over wi’ asphalt for a lot of years. Well, when they were doing the road a while back they uncovered ‘em.
That’s it yes. That’s what made me ask because I saw them when they uncovered ‘em.
R-Aye, well I can tell on ‘em putting ‘em down. And they were considered, like some, and they did Station Road t’same way frae Railway corner down to the station. They did that wi’ the same sort of stuff at that time, but they abandoned ‘em. It were slippery. Aye, they used to slip on it you know. When it were frosty weather it were terrible you know. And wet, even when it were wet weather. Well, it made a good bed for them chaps [for the asphalt] They left ‘em in where they were you know when they did Newtown about two years since. I telled a chap that were doing it, I says I can tell on ‘em putting them in. He says Can you? I says aye.
Was your grandfather a Barlicker Billy?
R-Aye yes, well no, no, his father [father’s father] were a farm hand and he were a bit of a scapegoat so he were always missing you know and me grandmother lived with me uncle [great-uncle actually], him that were t’manager you know. [At Robinson Brooks] Well, she didn’t know where her husband were you know, he were more like a tramp at that time aye. He lived in Yorkshire somewhere and he died and me father went to his funeral somewhere over by Grassington, over that way. He were a farm hand you know, he’d work for different farms, he weren’t a chap that ‘ud settle down into a home you know, no, aye.
Do you think there were many like that then, that couldn’t settle down Billy?
R-There were. There were part knocking about like them. They were t’same as tramps. They’d go and work for one farm for a bit and then they’d flit to another. If they got stalled of one they wanted to be off to another, they were tramps you know. Aye, at that time Irish men used to come over for th’haytime you know. They used to come to the same farms every year frae out of Ireland and then they’d move down [the country] for the harvest you see. There were one up at Coates, I were there three years and I used to watch ‘em out of the window you see, it were the same chap that come I could tell him, he wore a cap, I thought hello, he’s landed again. Aye, I could tell t’same chap when he come out frae Ireland.
Where did you see him from Billy?
R-Frae out of Coates windows.
Coates Mill?
R-Coates mill aye.
You worked at Coates for a bit then?
R-I worked three year, I went, there were a taping job got to let and I got it and I were there three year. I’d thirty eight bob a week standing wage. I’d started at thirty two bob. They said we’ve paid thirty eight before but you haven’t had a machine before so he says How be if we give you thirty two for twelve month and then we’ll rise you? I said Aye. Well it were a lot , it were a good wage to me were that , every week bar th’holidays ‘cause there were nowt at th’holidays and no stamps to pay nor owt. I’d thirty two bob and then at th’end of twelve month they put , I never said owt but they put it up to thirty eight and then in another twelve month there were a Mark Hacking starting at Barnsey and he wanted me to go wi’ him but I didn’t want. He wanted me to start again at t’bottom you know. He said How will it be like if you…. I thought I’ve done that once, I’m not doing it twice. So they must have heard that Hacking were [after me] so he come to me did Walter Wilkinson and I says No, I’m not going. He said Well, we’ll give you two bob of a rise, that’s two pound. Well, I didn’t think much about it but when I look back it weren’t too bad. It showed they wanted you to stop, aye. So I get two pound a week aye.
Who was Walter Wilkinson?
R-He come from Earby along wi’, they were Earby chaps, there were Hartley King and him and another or two and they took Coates over off a chap called Jackson, they called theirself, they went back to Earby and they called theirself Seal Manufacturing Company at Earby. So I started for a new firm that were bahn to take over just afore they went you see. I did three year there and t’wife, my wife, were beaming for happen twelve month [Billy was married in 1905 so it makes his dates at Coates as 1903/1906 approximately] at t’other side of the room, I used to set her clock for her, you know, for t’length. And then they give over buying cop twist [and went over to] ring twist, beams you know so like they stopped winders and they used to buy ‘em in ring beams you know, aye.
Is that where you met your wife Billy at Coates?
R-No, she come from Barrow and there were no work in Barrow for lasses, they all had to go out to service and she were at Gutteridge Farm, towards Gisburn. She were there and she had five bob a week as a servant and she’d to milk and do all sorts, she’d five bob a week. Well she used to come in with Mrs Crook wi’ rabbits, they used to shoot rabbits ower theer, used to bring rabbits into Barlick and she came in a horse and trap wi’ her, there were no motors, no nowt you know. And she let her, or somebody in Barlick [let her know] they wanted, Mrs Hopkinson, old Jack Hopkinson’s widow, she were a bit of a cripple and so she went there, she left Crook’s farm and went up Park Road and looked after the woman you know. That’s where I met her, aye.
What year would your wife move out of Barrow?
R-Oh well, she’d be about 19 year old, aye. Her sister had been at Malham looking after an old woman called Mrs Dawson and she wanted to come back home and look after her mother and father, they all worked in steel works and so she got my wife to go wi’ this woman in her place but my wife used to say wi’ living in Barrow and she were nobbut 19 she said she used to lean on the gate of a night, dark night, and nobody about you know, thinking about Barrow and all. So she left and come to Harry Crooks so’s she could get into Barlick.
What was your wife’s maiden name Billy?
R-Elizabeth Ainsworth
Aye, and so she were beaming at Coates while you were taping.
R-She were aye. Beamer give ower, he were bahn to give ower, it were Matt Holden, I don’t know whether you knew him or not. He were giving ower and so, me wife were winding then, so Walter Wilkinson said how would it be if Matt’ll learn thee to beam so he did. She took hold so Matt left and me wife did it for twelve months.
You wouldn’t be married then would you Billy?
R-Oh yes, in 1905, I were about 24 and my wife ‘ud be about twenty two. We’d get a lad then, he used to come up, me sisters used to bring him up into the tape room you know and he’d be running about and old Kit Cryer that used to work at Coates at that time, he come up one day and he said If tha can make ‘em like that, tha wants to mek some more. Aye, he did.
[Laughter] And how many did you end up with?
R-Well, t’wife were pregnant again about two years after and I went wi’t Territorials for a weeks holiday, it were t’only way, I couldn’t afford nowt no different. So I went for a week wi’t Terriers and she were only about seven month. I said will you be all reight? And she had it while I were away, seven month. And it died at two days old. If they’d have been the same as they are today it ‘ud have getten into an incubator and they’d have brought it on but there were nowt of that then, no, else they’d have getten it, you know, put it in an incubator and, aye. It were just like a doll you know. Wife were cut up about that. It must have upset sommat and she couldn’t have no more you see. I don’t know what happened like but, no.
Is your lad still living Billy?
R-No, he died at sixty four, he died about nine year since at Cleveleys, aye. I’d given ‘em, we’d given ‘em this boarding house and we come here, they lived here and we swapped. Aye well, they did seven or eight years in it aye, and then he had cancer o’t lung. I thought it were cigarette smoking, they were smoking day through you know, swallowing smoke. Aye, it were a big blow to me were that, me main stoop went [support]. Now when t’wife died I were here on me own for about eight years and then they left the boarding house and bought a house at Cleveleys he says Now when you get stalled of being be yourself, come and live with us. But you see he died. Now his wife, of course I kept going off and on, well, I’d be there about eight month once you know, but she started a being poorly and t’doctor said she hadn’t to have anybody, she couldn’t look after nobody so I’d to get back here and you know I’d selled him this house, him that I’m living wi’, thinking of being there you see. I’d left it and it were allus in me mind you know but that’s how it happened you see. Aye.
So you finished up outliving ‘em all Billy.
R-Well aye.
There’s your family left isn’t there, your sisters.
R-Aye, there’s six of us. Aye.
When you think, you know, you must have been good stock, your mother and father.
R-Well it looks so. Well me mother, me father, he weren’t a big robust chap but he used to get on the spree. When I started a doing for him you know he’d worked hard up to getting a family up but he used to get at t’spree you see. They did get at t’spree a lot on ‘em, t’pubs were open all day and they used to strike t’spree and then they’d happen go twelve month and have another one do you see. Well, he used to get on’t spree and I were doing for him you see, aye. Well, he didn’t do his self any good you know with that, no, no.
Would you say there was more drinking then Billy than there is now. When I say more drinking , more serious drinking you know, drunkenness?
R-I don’t think there were. There were no women went in pubs then, no. If you saw a woman going into a pub there’d be an outcry in Barlick. Eh no, no women went in pubs then, you know what I mean. There were no lads like there is today, that were then you see. In’t bulk you know. But there were odd ones, there were Tom o’th’Edge and one or two more I could name, Aaron Nutter, one o’ Jim Nutter’s brothers and there’d be about three or four of ‘em, aye. They’d go in a pub, they were in all day, fall asleep in there you know, aye. And then they’d be all reight for happen six or eight month, practically teetotal in a way and then they’d have another break out do you see. Aye. Now me uncle Will [father’s uncle] were t’same. He lived wi’ me grandmother next door to us in Newtown, he were t’manager at Brook’s. He used to go on t’spree and me grandmother ‘ud say Go and tell thee uncle Willy he has to come home. It were night you know and I used to go in t’Milker Tap. It were, you know where that telephone box is at t’side of Railway corner [now moved to Post Office block] well they used to go through a ginnel theer into t’tap room. It belonged to t’Railway pub but it were run wi’ old Lizzie Milker they called her, old Lizzie Cawdrey, Milker, she ran it, th’old woman you know, aye. I used to go there and I used to open t’door but you couldn’t see ‘em for smook. [laughter] I said, Me Grandmother says me uncle Willy has to come home! Aye, all reight, aye. Well, he were missing from his work you know and then when he come round sober I’d to go and ask Robinson Brooks if he could come back. [laughter] Aye. I says, Me uncle Will wants to know if he can come back. I were nobbut a lad you know. Aye, he says, Tell him to get back. Eeh, I’ve seen some dos I can tell ye, aye. There were old Aaron Nutter and Tom O’th Edge, they once come out o’t Railway one Saturday night and they were ‘I care for nobody’ and one on ‘em says ‘And naybody cares for me’, and they were staggering about you know and they were they were like that and all. So Tom says Thee and thy nobody, I wish tha’d be quiet. Aye, and they started feighting at finish, it’s a good job t’police weren’t there, they’d hev locked ‘em up!
[Laughter] Aaron Nutter ‘ud be old Jim Nutter’s brother would he? That were James that finished up at Bancroft?
R-Old Jim’s brother aye, that’s it. He were cut looking down at Bankfield when Nutter’s were there and Jim had gone down soon one morning, he used to go down afore he went to market [Manchester Exchange] He used to come down afore t’mill started you know, same as t’boss does to see like how…. Well, Aaron hadn’t landed you know and he’d to cut look. So he like waited and he landed about twenty past six and they’d started. Narthen, what time ‘s’ta call this? We start work here at six o’clock, think on that! Aye well Jim, I’ll tell thee what happened, I were coming on be Crow Nest and I stopped to leet me pipe and I had to turn round wi’ me back to t’wind. An I fon meself back home again! Well, that did it. [laughter] He were a rum ‘un were Aaron aye. Aye he says, I fon meself back home and I’d never turned back! Well, Jim could do nowt, he turned round and buggered off then, aye, he left. Course, they were all reight, eh dear! [Laughter]
SCG/13 January 2001
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