Oral History

Cheips Wi' Old Stockiners' was first published by the Hinckley Times in the 1890s






'Cheips wi' Old Stockiners' is the name of a series of five articles. 'Cheips Wi' Old Stockiners' was first published by the Hinckley Times in the 1890s. This is a fine example of an oral history transcript of this period, by an interviewer who signs himself 'T'. It gives an insight into the cottage industry and the sort of lives people lived.


Article 1 - Our Sam


Our Sam allus wor owdacious. When 'e wor a kid it wor in 'im, an' none on us couldn't alter'im. 'E were born when way lived up Bond End, an' moy missis sez as soon as she sot eyes on 'im 'Dan'l, cent 'e a welter? And so 'e wor. I were that chuff on 'im, and well I mowt be, bein the fust; the chaps at the worus were alias a moaging moan' saying as I were fair cut out for a family man; I used to say doont yor bawther, our kid's a reglar young bantycock.

”Well, our Sam were alias ollering and scrawming about and ooting and doin, till I begun to feel fair moithered, and I were glad to goo out an'ev a tot of a nights, astid er stopping at 'am in a manner o'speakin. It were a wonder 'e didn't robble 'is inside all up wi bellering, but Doctor Ludlow sez, sez 'e, 'E's as 'ard as a dug, let 'im 'oller.” Strewth 'e didn't want lettin.When 'e begun to run about 'e were cock-o-the-walk o'er all th'other kids from Duck Paddle to Stebbleton Road.

'E used to sneak their marls, an' if they roared, 'c up wi' 'is fisses and gen 'cm sock like a two-year-old. Bailey allus used to say “Dan'l, you mun may a loryer on 'im”.I sent him to the Church skowl but Muster Webb couldn't do nowt with him; and it were no use gee'ing 'im the cob, it on'y made him wus. 'E'd run out an' collar Muster Disney's apples and sich games as them; and I got reglar sick o' peeing for brukken winders. All the foalry yer could think on hay were up to -duck-on-cob an weak dunkeys and tearin all round folke's houses a playing levo and churup and whatnot. I seed 'im one day olling oringe pill in the post office letter box - it were one Sunday artnoon - so I sez, Sam, 'ow is it yer aint gone Sunday skewl?” and he sez, “I shuvved a lad orf a form an' 'appy Jack sez I eent gorrer goo no more”. So I gen him a good lapin, but I couldnt do nowt wi' im.”Then e begun smoaking, and when I tuk the pipe orf on 'im and gen in a good leathering, 'e started chewing; I tell you'e were a fair 'ot un.Wi' a bit o'struggling 'e managed to pass 'is standud, and went as a arf-timer up at Davises an' then strike me if 'e didnt start a-coorting.

When I 'eerd about 'im marching a gel off round the Coorting Stiles we' a short pipe in 'is chops, I were fair set back. Bailey told me on it and 'e sez, sez 'e “Dan'l your Sam tex arter his feyther”; but I know I nivver dust as much as luke at a wench tell I were twenty or moor, cos my feyther were a big man amung the Primitives an' very particular like, but its no use argfying wi' Bailey, 'e's alias got one ready for yer.Well to ivverybody's surprise our Sam stuck ter 'is wuk well, an' didnt go a boosing or card pleeing or anything or that'n, an'arter all 'e puck up wi' a Barrell gel, ah' just a I expected 'e sez to me one dee, sez 'e, Dad, may an' Ria's going ter Church come next Bank 'ollerdy Munday, and gooing ter one of the gaffer's “Ow's that,” sez I, but I had got th'art t'argy,' wee'im, for wi'all 'is capers I felt sorry to lose our Sam, an' 'e were earning good munney or the (about as much in a dee as I can in a wick) and I were a bit frit o' the winter time as were a comin.Old stockingers like may cent wanted a sight in 'Inckley now-a-dees, or any other for the matter o' that.

Th' old frames are very near all gone now, an' when I 'ev a touch o' the brontitus now an' agen I 'ev a job to keep out of the bastile. Us old 'osses goes too slow for these ere breekneck days, and I begin to feel as if I shant be sorry when my time comes an' they lee me agen my missus i' the cimetary.

Anyhow our Sam's turned out a good honest 'ard-wukking chap, and allus ready to help 'is old feyther, wit'all 'is pranks in 'is younger dees. 'E's all'ot on football and guz down to the Well omost ivery Satdy in winter time to see the Town plee. I can't walk much furder nor Willerby's, and when I see our Sam agooing past I feel quite proud o' sich a street-up young chap, baying a son o'mine, bless is 'art.

Thank you, sir, I doont mind if I do!


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