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Hes ter sin Caleb..?

Hes ter sin Caleb..?

Th'Owd Syker (Rowland Kippax)

Burnley Express and News

Date Unknown

Since my article "Harle Syke's Stockbroker" in November, I have received two letters from descendants of the people I write about.
One was from Mr and Mrs T. Greenwood, of Middlesex. Tom was a nephew of Art Shack and his wife, Mildred, was granddaughter of John O'William O'John's.
The other was from Mrs Christine Williamson, of Great Yarmouth, who claims Jack O'Nancy's as her great grandfather.

Letters like these are a great reward and appreciation of what I have written - I have a box full of them. I will give you some extracts from the letter.
"My aunt, who was Isabella Wiles, from your village, sent the cutting to my mother and said he (Jack O'Nancy's) is your grandfather. He was a building inspector, and was always very smart going to work. He wore a navy blue suit - shoes shined until you could see yourself in them."
Isabella's sister, Mary, married James Walsh, of Princess Street, Nelson, and they moved to Taunton and then Lowestoft, where he completed his career as Borough Treasurer. Mary was granddaughter of Jack O'Nancy's.

They had a son, Peter Thomas Walsh, who was awarded a PhD. and is now lecturing in geology in the Civil Engineering Department of City University, London - a not-too-distant step from the building of bridges in Yorkshire Street.
Jack O'Nancy's great granddaughter, who wrote this letter, is a teacher in Great Yarmouth and has two daughters who have the middle name of Leaver. One of his great great grandsons attended Haberdashers public school in London.
The two sisters, Isabella and Mary, were both educated at Haggate and both were afterwards employed at Queen Street. I can see the imprint of Jack O'Nancy's in his great grandson - a great tribute to a Lancashire beginning.

More Redoubtables. Old Caleb (Baker):

Famous for his racing pigeons, especially one which he called "Little Jim", which won the Lancashire Combine of over 7,000 birds from France in the early 1900s.

Owd Hosted (Pickles):

Went to Crystal Palace with the above Caleb when Burnley won the FA Cup in 1914. Unfortunately, when they came off the field they were split up.
Hosted went up to a policeman and asked him "Hes ter sin owt o'Caleb?" The policeman asked: "Who's Caleb?" And Own Hosted said "Everybody knows Caleb; he keeps pigeons up Syke."

Everlasting Bob (Shoesmith):

A local preacher who used to preach his sermon in a very loud voice, but unfortunately didn't know when to stop - hence his name.

Tommy Watter (Waterworth):

Gravedigger at St James's Church. Scared more people to death than he buried, when only his bald head was visible out of the grave he was digging.

Gentleman John (Smith):

Verger and caretaker at Haggate Chapel. A man who took great pride in his appearance and his job. Always one of the best-dressed men in the village

Bill Trucks (West):

Son of Owd Trucks - in my last article. A weaver at Harle Syke Mill (Siberia) who gave a very famous answer when asked by his boss: "Air long does ter weer thi shirts, Bill?" (A lady weaver next to him had complained that he hadn't changed his shirt for five weeks).
Roughly translated, the answer was "10in above the knee!"

Jimmy Pummel (Edmondson):

Noted for having a one-gallon stone bottle, full of silver 3d pieces. Once told a weaver (he was a cut-looker) that he had seen a "reyt faire float in one of her pieces" and got the reply: "It wernt afe as faire as thee".

Ginger Dan (Halstead):

The owner of the School kids' Tuck shop; inventor of the "Lucky Bag". made 200 every Thursday night and sold them by lunchtime Friday. Also invented the "Long Drop Hook", which he would loan you if you had "dropped summat dairn petty".
Was no good for retrieving false teeth - you had to borrow Owd Whipp's ferret for that.
Funnily enough, I have just spoken about this article to Dan's daughter, Mrs Redman - who said one person from Cross Street used to come and say "Dan, can I borrow your stabber?" when she had a disaster.

And last but not least...

Jimmy Pussick

My Dad, the greatest, had five children, 10 grandchildren and as many great grandchildren who all though the world of him. Had two hobbies, racing pigeons and brass bands.
Must have played nearly all the brass instruments in the band until he finished up at Irwell Springs with the E flat.
Had one remedy for every ailment he suffered - Parkinson's Blood and Stomach Pills, one penny a box.
We all had to take them - so, too, had the dog and any hen that looked off colour - and his racing pigeons all had to take a course of the pills before the racing season started.
Died when he was 91. I keep getting "Existence certificatesW from an insurance company who appear to be getting tired of paying me an annuity. I sent them a short poem in reply to one of these, which ended: "My dad lived to be 91 and I'll take 6/4 that I lick him".
Dad sponsered a football team in the village called "Kippax's XI," which won the Burnley Amateur League Championships in 1906. Believe it or not, it was better known as Pussick's XI.

With kind permission of The Burnley Express.

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