THIS TAPE HAS BEEN RECORDED ON 1ST OF AUGUST 1978 AT 17 CORNMILL TERRACE, BARNOLDSWICK. THE INFORMANT IS BILLY BROOKS AND THE INTERVIEWER IS STANLEY GRAHAM.
[As the interview starts, Billy and I were discussing the economics of part warps and urgent orders. In order to get cloth out for an order quickly much smaller weaver’s beams have to be prepared with say two or three cuts on each beam instead of say ten. This means that more weavers are working on the cloth and it will come off the looms quicker but there is a penalty in that more beams have to be prepared for the weavers. This raises the cost per piece and this is what Billy and I are discussing as the tape starts.]
R-They wanted ‘em out in a fortnight, aye. He’d taken that order to deliver in a fortnight.
That’s it, so you were taping part warps.
R-Aye, just two cuts on each warp, on each beam.
Aye, yes. So that means more work for everyone all round ‘cause it takes just as long to gait a short warp.
R-Well they had to pay more for twisting you know, it were all hand twisting then. But t’price would be on for all that you know. If you wanted ‘em reight sharp you had to pay for ‘em you see. Now you might have a customer that wanted ‘em reight sharp and so you know you’d say well, I know where I can get ‘em in a fortnight but I want so much, clapped it on. Well, it paid, everybody that wanted that cloth, they’d all have to pay more for it you see, ‘cause they wanted it there and then. That’s why they used to take them little orders sometimes, they all did it because they were getting a good price for them.
Was there much cloth woven for stock Billy? You know, cloth woven when they hadn’t an order for it?
R-Oh aye, Brooks made thousands, sometimes they lost a lot of brass wi’ ‘em.. Sometimes they’d mek sommat. But they lost a lot of brass. He’d come in on a morning sometimes and he’d say I haven’t booked a yard, not a yard and 900 looms running. Put a set of so and so in. I’d know what sort he meant and I’d go and put so and so of us own make and so and so of bought beam to get me number, aye. [Billy is making a distinction between taper’s beams they had bought in and beams that had been wound from yarn package in their own beaming department. By using some of their own beams they could get the number of ends in the set right.] Well he’d come t’morning after and perhaps for a fortnight and say carry on. Piled up in’t warehouse with what they called ‘three reds’ and t’price dropped and they lost thousands on them did Brooks. Aye they did. They called ‘em ‘bread and butter sorts’ in Manchester, the three reds. [Three reds was the cloth mark for this particular cloth.]
Aye, Bradley’s got into trouble wi’ that didn’t they?
R-Did they? Aye.
Yes, they were in Bankfield No. 1 with Nutters and I think they banked in the end with the job.
R-Well happen they must have done because they give ower didn’t they and his wife were tekking in lodgers down Gisburn Road. His widow.
Well that’s what I were told, their warehouse was absolutely full of cloth.
R-Well, when he started he were a baker on Commercial Street They were bakers, they had a baker’s shop there he’d never no experience in that sort of thing. [manufacturing]
Where did Bradley start weaving?
R-They started in Butts at far end there, in Monkroyd end.
That’s it. How many loom would he have.
R-About four hundred. And during the strike [1895] they gashed ‘em all one weekend.
Aye, warp slashing. Was there a lot of that went on Billy?
R-Nay I don’t think there were, I don’t remember, only that. Course, they might have been insured you know.
[Pause here while Billy and SG light pipes]
R-It seems good bacca, what sort is it, Condor?
Aye, oh that weren’t Condor you had last week, it was Escudo.
R-Oh, I thowt it were very good.
Aye it is, it should be, the price of it Billy. D’you know what an old feller told me one day Billy? He said Trouble with smoking a pipe nowadays is if you smoke your own it’s too expensive and if you’re smoking somebody else’s your pipe won’t draw. If you’re smoking some bugger else’s your pipe won’t draw.
{Much laughter from both! For non-pipe smokers, the point of the story is that if the tobacco is free you cram as much as you can into your pipe and it won’t draw properly!]
Eh, never mind. No, that’s one of the things that’s always amazed me about this job, the way somebody could start as a cloth manufacturer with almost no capital and you’d think, almost no experience. Because there were several people that did it weren’t there. Coal merchants, bakers, all sorts of people went into manufacturing.
R-Aye, you know at time that these mills were going [about 1900] you could buy a Coopers 38” loom for £5. Aye. What would they be today?
Oh, God knows.
R-Hundred?
Oh, a lot more Billy, a lot more. I mean, you couldn’t buy them, but you’d be into six, seven, eight hundred pound street now. I mean, they think nothing of paying fourteen thousand pound for a loom now you know Billy. Mind you, those are big automatics, but how long do you think it ‘ud take ‘em to pay for a loom in those days, you understand what I mean, before they’d paid for the loom?
R-Well, it’d take a few years you know to write ‘em off. They all used to come by boat. I can tell on ‘em, I can tell o’ t’Moss Shed, it were a field there, trees at each side and on t’back. At t’canal side they cut a way across, you know, made a bit of an opening in the bank, in the hill side and that were the start of Moss. A boat used to come wi’ bricks and all sorts and I watched it develop, I think it were a firm called Preston’s that did t’Moss, 1903.
Who built Moss?
R-Well, it were Barlickers, a company you know. Moss Shed Company. Same wi’ Barnsey, they were all Barlickers, main on ‘em. There were these engineering companies you know that [invested] purpose to get orders for cast iron and what not you know, same as Rushworths at Colne. They were shareholders at Long Ing, they got all the troughs, pillars and that.
Aye. Widdups ‘ud have a lot to do with Moss wouldn’t they.
R-Aye they had, he were a shareholder were’t father.
Aye. And then Barnsey would be built after that wouldn’t it?
R-Aye but you know you, a couple of hundred and you were all reight there. Them days, you get to be a director wi’ a couple of hundred, aye.
Is that reight?
R-Aye, a lot of brass were two hundred then. Nobbut cost £26,000 to build Westfield Shed, engines and the lot in 1911. That’s what brass could do then. You can’t realise it but it were so. Hundred pound went a long way in those days. You know they nobbut geet about fourpence an hour did labourers you know, fourpence or fivepence. They’d borrow off the bank , you see the bank ‘ud see ‘em reight you know because they had the assets going up. And they’d do business with the bank you see, bank helped them so’s they’d get some business when they’d getten going.
And for the same reason, a lot of people that built the sheds would help other people to get into manufacturing so’s they’d be drawing rent wouldn’t they. Because I know like that Calf Hall [Shed Company] ‘ud lend people money on their looms, to buy their looms.
R-Now all them power spaces were taken up, it were taken up by tacklers that had been tackling down there. There were Pummers, well they were all working in textiles you know. Pummers started, Windles started, there were Bill Bailey’s, they got to be a big firm, he were a tackler, aye. They were tacklers staring on their own you know a lot of them, aye. Old Jim Nutter that started Nutter and Company he used to be hawking bibles.
Who was Jim O’Kits?
R-Jim Edmondson, they used to have 400 looms in Crow Nest. They made their brass wi’ selling bibles did James Nutter and Jim O’Kits and all. They were them big family bibles you know. And they used to put the names of all their children in’t first page you know. We lost ours, me sister were on asking about it t’other week, as I don’t know where it get to. They cost a pound apiece.
In them days?
R-Aye they were, aye.
Like a pound ‘ud be a lot of money then weren’t it Billy.
R-Well, they cost a pound apiece.
And that’s how old Jim started?
R-He used to be selling Bibles, yes.
And where did he come from, do you have any idea Billy?
R-Well, I think he were born in Barlick, I think so. He used to be a big New Shipper, and he were t’chairman one night , Well, he says, I can see a lot of smiling faces. You know things have been good for a while, we’ve had full work. In fact there’s more pianos bought today than there were tin whistles when I were a lad! They were all buying pianos then and now they’ve done away with ‘em. They cost about twenty pound apiece.
Well, that ‘ud be about the same as a colour television now wouldn’t it Billy?
R-Well, they’d all getten their children in the mill. Aye, and they were paying half a crown a week for ‘em [12 ½ p.] He [Jim Nutter] says There’s more pianos sold today than there were tin whistles when I were a lad! He were a droll ‘un were [Jim].
Would he preach a bit down at t’New Ship?
R-Well, I don’t know whether he were ever a lay preacher, he might have done. I expect he would do but I forget you know.
Jim ‘ud start at Calf Hall would he?
R-I think they started in’t, I don’t know whether they didn’t start in’t Clough or not. I know Pickles started in’t Clough and Brooks started in’t Clough, now whether Holdens did I don’t know. I just forget but they did go into Calf Hall, they went into Calf Hall for a start.
Clough wouldn’t hold many would it?
R-Well, they were right in t’top. [Billy is talking about Brooks here], Aye, there were a good hoist and I remember going wi’ me father’s breakfast and I yelled damn murder afore I’d go in this hoist. They had to take me in, I were flayed of going up there.
And your dad was weaving at Clough?
R-Me dad were weaving a four loom up in the top. I remember going up and seeing them.
That’s unusual isn’t it, weaving up stairs?
R-Well aye but in them days if owt happened they didn’t bother. In th’Old Coates it were upstairs weaving, that mill that were pulled down, it were four storeys.
Did they weave upstairs at Long Ing and all at one time?
R-Not at Long Ing, no. They had two storeys, tapes and winders on the second storey.
Same as Bancroft.
R-That’s reight.
Aye, warehouse downstairs, tapes and winders and warp preparation upstairs, that’s it.
R-Joe Slater, one of Slaters, he married Billycock’s daughter that lived at Newfield Edge. And in them days there were no motors so Joe used to walk it from the station up to Newfield Edge you know. Same as Holden would, they lived aside of, nearly opposite your mill, that end house.
Aye, it’s a boarding house now. Springbank do they call it?
R-Well Holdens lived there, the founders of Holdens, they lived there. Aye, well, Joe [was walking past one day] where Donnie Smith lived at the end of Calf Hall Road there, just at t’corner, there’s little walls round, just at th’end you know. [The three storey cottages fronting on to Wapping on the Barlick corner of Calf Hall Road.] Them old cottages just at t’corner of Calf Hall Road as you’re going round [towards Barlick] Aye, and Donnie, Old Donnie Smith, he were an outdoor chap were Donnie and his wife were one of them old Barlickers you know. She were leaning over the wall same as they used to do in those days, you know gossiping and Joe were coming up. He says I’ve seen your Donnie wi’ a woman down yonder, he’s talking to a woman. She said Well, if he suits her as well as he’s suited me she’ll be all reight. [laughter] Dear me, there were all sorts in those days. Aye there were. Them characters is all gone but they were rum uns, aye they were. She used to come out wi’ all sorts did Smith’s wife, I knew her well, I knew the family aye.
When you say Donnie were an outdoor man, what do you mean Billy?
R-He worked, he was a road man, you know, owt for’t council, Local Board as it was at that time. It weren’t called a council it were called a Local Board. Aye, a good old trooper were Donnie.
Tell me Billy, how about politics in them days, you know, was politics a big thing you know.
R-There were no Labour then. There were Liberal and Conservatives.
Were it a big thing Billy, you know, was there a lot of canvassing went on at election time?
R-Oh aye. They were very bitter against one another were Liberals and Conservatives in them days, oh aye. Aye, it were a do you know. There had to be a bit of sommat to create a bit of life in them days you see. There weren’t television or all this brass to set off wi’ in cars you see, there were nowt. Well you had to have sommat to be interested in you see, to raise hell wi’ sommat, aye. Now at one time when I were quite a lad they called Barlick holidays Rushbearing. I enquired off me uncle [Billy is actually talking about his great uncle Willie] and he says It weren’t a holiday really it were more of a festival and they had wagons decorated wi’ rushes you see, go round the streets you know and happen a band playing or sommat of that, aye. Well it used to be known for many a year as Rushbearing. And then they started calling it Barlick Feast and now of course it seems to be holidays. They don’t seem to use them expressions they’ve gone, they’ve been out lived.
That’s interesting is that Billy.
R-Now th’hearse that used to bury folk in them days, it were a black un all carved and on top of it you could see that there had been something on top and at that time it had big plumes on top but they’d done away wi’ ‘em ‘cause they wanted so much cleaning. It were kept in the railway yard, they’ve pulled it down now, it were kept in there and it were like a box wi’ black panels and carvings and they opened the door at the end and shoved the coffin in and when they shut it you couldn’t see the coffin, aye.
In those days, when you were a young lad was there someone who was an undertaker? A funeral director?
R-Aye, there was Dick Holroyd on Commercial Street, he were an undertaker. In those days the undertaker used to walk at t’front o’t hearse while they got down there, to t’Gill. You know, reight stately and bearers either side. They’d stop here [Junction of Wellhouse Road and Skipton Road] and t’bearers ‘ud get in and they’d go a bit faster down there you see. [To Gill Church]
Aye, that’s it, once they got out of the houses. And of course, people ‘ud be laid out at home.
R-They were all kept at home and t’blinds were drawn. T’carriages and th’hearse ‘ud draw up and drivers ‘ud get out and a woman ‘ud come out wi’ a tray and a white tablecloth over the tray wi’ some glasses of wine and they all had a glass of this wine, aye. All t’drivers, they’d come and this woman come wi’ a white apron out o’ th’house and they’d all get a glass, aye. Then t’coffin ‘ud come out then, aye. We used, as lads we used to watch all them things you know, we were allus interested, aye. Course, that’s gone now but it were nice to see. It were a nice little ceremony that were, aye it were, aye.
How about weddings Billy, were weddings any different then?
R-Well, when I were wed in 1905 Towers Singleton were advertising a Clarence Carriage for weddings. It were an open carriage lined wi’ white silk and horses. I engaged it and they clattered down Gill Lane and bells on and clattering down, it were grand were that, aye. A reight nice bit o’ style. Well, before that I don’t know how they got there, some of them ‘ud walk it and some of them ‘ud go down in some sort of conveyance. I don’t know, but they used to get there, aye. There were a vicar then called Woods and he fell out wi’ ‘em all and there were such a do as never. I don’t know whether he hadn’t a pistol once and were barn to fire at ‘em. Put a rope across the road or sommat, there were some bother but I were a bit too young to know what were up, Woods they called him, this vicar. They fell out wi’ him I don’t know what were up but there were some doings I believe. I’ve heard me father tell about it like, I can just tell on him but I couldn’t tell about owt you know. Eh aye, there were all sorts of dos in them days you know.
One of the things I do know about is that there was a lot of trouble at one time in Barlick about water rights off the moor for the mills. I mean you can’t run a mill without water can you, you’ve got to have water for the mill, for the engine.
R-No well, I remember at one time there were sommat, there were William Brooks, he were in at Calf Hall Shed Company, I remember ‘em going up to t’Springs to open sommat out, open sommat up. I just forget now but they said they used to go up regular and …… aye.
Well I’ll tell you what it were, can you remember about what year that ‘ud be, it doesn’t matter if you don’t you know, just see if you can remember what year that ‘ud be.
R-Well, it ‘ud be about 1900 or sommat like that.
That’s it, you know Billy, your memory is fantastic. I happen to know about that, it was just before 1900. It was a very hot summer and they were short of water [at Calf Hall] I’ll tell you what they did and then you’ll know, they used to rent Springs Dam off the woman that owned that farm, I can’t just remember what her name was, I think it might have been Jackson but I’m not sure. [It was late in 1899 and the owner was Mrs Coates of Skipton] They were short of water so what they did, further up towards the end of Weets, going up to Far Newfield Edge, there’s a well there, a spring, and it’s called Dark Hill Well. And what they did, they went up there and they dug a drain from Dark Hill Well down to Springs Dam and they turned the water from Dark Hill into Springs Dam. [I was wrong about this, this was earlier in 1896/7] That drain’s still there.
R-Well you know, there’s a clow you can lift up and all in the dam and let more out at the bottom at Springs.
That’s it yes. Well they had a lot of trouble over that water because somebody from Bradford, or Keighley it might have been, stocked it with fish and they were using it as a fish pond. During maintenance works there were two things happened. One was that they opened the clow and let the water out of the dam and let all the fish go down the beck which upset this feller. The other thing was that the feller that were farming the land had his horse fall into the trench and they were both claiming off the Calf Hall Company.
R-You know they were old Barlickers were t’main of t’shareholders in Calf Hall and they were allus watching out for that sort of thing. They were allus going up there and looking after the water you know because they had some brass in it and they were a bit keen you know.
Can you remember Doctor Roberts?
R-Aye, he lived across from Calf Hall and he had nobbut one leg. He used to go round in a horse and trap. There’s a gate there at the back of Calf Hall where he used to go through to his house.
He was one of the shareholders in Calf Hall, in fact he was the chairman for a long time.
R-Well, I don’t know, I forget. But I know he would be aye. They were all Barlickers. I had a friend, an old school friend that died about four or five years ago, his father had left him some shares, aye, he had some.
They tell me that just before the second world war they were very cheap were Calf Hall Shares.
R-Oh they would be at one time aye. But they gradually got, you know, when they got all the space let you know they….. But there were scores of old Barlickers put hundred pounds in you know and on that way. Mark Hacking and them built Barnsey and he were a shareholder of Coates when I was taping there, he used to come talking to me but I hadn’t got a penny piece. He says We’ve bought that land, we bought it a Saturday, we went to Skipton, and Dick Holden, that farmed it [As tenant] we passed him on the road, he was barn to Skipton to see about it but we’d bought it. Now, tha can be a director for £100. Well, I had nowt, I’d just got wed. He might have lent it me I don’t know. You see I were young and I didn’t bother. But if it were said to me now I should say, well you know I can’t raise that like. He might have said well then, I’ll lend it thee ‘cause we were good friends. But I didn’t, I didn’t bother but if I’d been in, that hundred pound ‘ud have been thousands now. But you see them things after, I could have worked him the reight way but I hadn’t an ambition to be one. [Manufacturer] I’d nobbut just getten wed and I were thinking about me own affairs you see, it’s only in after years when you see where you’ve missed it, you see what I mean?
Aye, that’s it Billy.
R-Aye, he were a tight un were Mark Hacking, he were. He had a bakehouse reight opposite them flats that’s built [David Crossley House] , Baptist, just across there. He had a bakehouse and shop there.
Aye, was that a bakehouse, that was Jehovah’s at one time?
R-Across from the Co-op there, it’s next to Clough gates. Aye well, it were a bakehouse. One of his sons died a few years back, the youngest. They had a good business there, his brother Stephen founded Hackings down here [Gisburn Road] Sally hackings. Sally’s father, Stephen was Mark Hacking’s brother. They were two brothers, Mark Hacking and Stephen Hacking, they started hawking haver cake [oat cake] at first when they first started.
Hawking?
R-Oatcake.
Aye, what did you call it then?
R-Haver cake they called it. We allus used to call it haver cake, I don’t know how it geet that name.
I came across a name the other day Billy, did you ever know where Sagin Hill were?
R-Aye, at t’side of the Palace there, aye, that’s it.
Up t’Croft.
R-Aye well, we always used to call it Sagin Hill. Old Wright had a laithe up there where that garage is now.[Hartley Robinson, who was licensee of the Engine Pub was also a sawyer and clog sole manufacturer. His yard was up on the Croft and I think that this is how Sagin Hill got its name, sagin is a dialect word for sawing.] They all called him Jack Shite. He allus went wi’ Old Shite [‘went with’ is same as ‘got called’] [much laughter] There were a chap called Squire Holden, he worked at Long Ing at Brooks and he’d to go round the top there and just round the top there were some septic tanks and by God, he were walking over it once and a plank, it went in and he went into this you know and they allus called him Shitten Swimmer after that! [more laughter]
He’d have to swim wouldn’t he!
Aye by God! They’d say you know Old Shitten Swimmer doesn’t tha? Aye well, so and so…… They used to have a furniture shop at one time in after years, there’s a butchers shop next to the Yorkshire Bank on Newtown and then it’s a greengrocers now. [On the left, after the Yorkshire Bank, there is Geoff Riley’s butchers, then a ladies outfitters and then what is now the greengrocer’s shop. This is the shop Billy is talking about.] He used to have a furniture shop there did old Squire Holden. They called him Squire Holden, aye, they did aye. But we allus gave him Shitten Swimmer, aye. Oh well, aye. But that were because he went into this here shit tank round the corner. He’d been in a hurry because he’d be late or sommat and t’plank were rotten and it gave way, aye. Hey dear, there’s all sorts. It’s amusing to talk about them old dos like aye.
It’s amusing for you Billy and it’s an education for me.
Now old Bobby Singleton, you know, his son hasn’t been long dead, he were an old New Ship, Old Baptister and he were chairman one night, you know they used to have Band of Hope dos at Saturday night in them days you know. Schools, it’s somewhere to go. Well, he’d never been chairman before and he said, Well Ladies and Gentlemen, let us now look back into the future. [laughter] Well, everybody, eh, they daren’t laugh you know but when he said Let us now look back into the future, aye. He were an old tyke were Bobby, aye, he were a grand chap and all but you know he wasn’t used to owt of that sort you know he’d get a bit mixed up.
Aye.
R-Oh dear, aye. [more laughter]
In them days Billy, when all these people were moving into Barlick. I mean, they called ‘em ‘off-comed uns’ didn’t they, people that were moving in when all the mills were getting built. Did they soon get to be accepted in town or did it take a while, were there like ‘Barlickers’ and off-comed uns’?
R-Oh, nobody bothered, nobody ne’er bothered, they just got accepted as, aye. And they started building. Jim Shaw built Park Road and Mosley Street. Aye, they all started [building]. Johnny Broughton, joiner, built houses up … Joe Standing built some up here [Corn Mill area]. Sandy Harmer lived on’t Croft, he were another weaver, he built a row. Aye, there were others, it were surprising. Sandy Harmer had allus been a weaver, he has a grave down at t’Gill, just inside the grave there, he built a row somewhere, he brought up a family of three and they lived on St James’ Square. Johnny Broughton, joiner, he built some all round here. It were all fields, we once played a football match on here, cup tie for’t Bradford City Cup, in that field there, folk were all leaning ower the wall on tops there watching it.
That’s it, on what’s th’end of Skipton Road now. Of course in those days there’d only be, there’d be nothing down Skipton Road only Crow Nest Cottages wouldn’t there?
R-That’s all. Aye, that’s all there were.
All t’way down there, there’d be Crow Nest Cottages and then there’d be ……
R-That’s all, there were none at Coates, not at t’bottom o’t hill. No, there were none of them. There were football fields on there.
And that’s where Crow Nest Shed ‘ud get its name isn’t it, from Crow Nest Cottages?
R-Well, I fancy so. I don’t know whether I ever telled thee about…., Isaac Barrett were schoolmaster at Wesleyan School, it’s there yet, same door, I look at it. I went there when I were five year old [Wesleyan School, now Rainhall Road and scheduled to close in July 2001.] and Isaac Barret, school master, were taking night classes you know during winter. There were two or three of us and they were clearing land for them houses in Mosley Street just across [from the school]. You know there were only one or two lamps lit in those days, it were dark. We decided we’d get a tree and we’d lean it against the door and knock at t’door. So we took this tree and leaned it against the door and then we get round the corner ‘cause it were dark and Isaac Barret opened the door and t’tree fell in on to him you know, aye. [laughter] Well, he played hell the morning after, what he’d do if he [found out] who were responsible for that. Nobody said owt you know. No he never knew. Aye, he didn’t half play Old Harry the morning after, aye. We used to do all them sort of tricks in them days, it were dark and nobody could see you you see.
Aye, like tying door knockers together Billy.
R-There were and old chap called Frank Metcalfe that lived in Rainhall Road, he had a window at th’end of his house, it’s a shop now. [The end shop in the row next to Rainhall Road School has a walled up window in the gable end. I think this must be the one Billy is talking about.] We used to go round the back of that bakehouse, round t’corner, and we used to tap, put a button on a string and we used to shove it on’t window and then we’d [jiggle] it and old Frank used to come out and we used to pull it tight so he couldn’t see it. He used to look round, he couldn’t see nowt you know. [laughter] No, there’s nowt! He’d go in, tap tap, he’d come out again, What the Bloody Hell! He couldn’t make nowt on it at all. No, [laughter] we used to plague the life out of him, oh aye.
It’s no wonder they thought some of them houses were haunted in them days!
R-Aye, well we had to make our own fun in them days, there were nowt. If we were in th’house, there were nobbut a candle lit on the table, that’s all. Until weekend, and then there were a lamp wi’ paraffin oil, a glass do and it used to be about that height on the table. [indicates 18”] That were for Saturday and Sunday but there were candles [the rest of the week], snuff-less dips they used to call them, they were made of tallow. The shop had them all in a bunch, like a bunch of grapes hung up and you’d say, I want two tuppenny snuff-less dips and he’d clip them off and lap [wrap] them up and they used to smell you know. And then wax candles come out and we thought they were a grand do were them you know, they weren’t as nasty as snuff-less dips. I had a pair of, I wish I had ‘em now, they’d fetch some brass, they were a pair of brass clippers and it had a little box on for nipping ‘em. For nipping off the top when they used to hang down, when they burnt it used to hang down sometimes.
That’s it, get it smoking.
R-Me grandmother had a pair of them, I wish I had ‘em, aye.
Aye, that’s going back a bit Billy.
R-There were no carpets like this. There were a peg rug in theer, that’s all. I’d to go for a pennyworth of sand up to Jacob Bailey’s to put on for Saturday and Sunday, on to t’flags. And when you walked through wi’ your clogs on, crunch, crunch, you thowt nowt about it. You didn’t think nowt about it and they’d sweep all that sand up, aye.
SCG/Monday, 05 February 2001
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