Heyd Market by Bill Lancashire

HEYD MARKET

Heyd market’s changed a lot tha knows

Sin a used goo when a were smowe.

Owd cobbles, gas leets an wooden stalls av o’gone

A dunna know what’s appened to em owe.

Now a conna remember like mi owd Granddad did

About tooth-puller who sat in a tent.

Wi a brass band outside to drown out screams

Were it true, or just summat he dreampt.

There were other tales a yerd as weel

Like Harry Gilbert, an owe watches he sowd.

An Mrs Goodwin wi her big pile o’ pots

They’d allus attract a good crowd.

Mrs Crossley were famed for her curtins

There were cotton, velvet and lace.

And you could get veg from Riskit Riley

Now he were a top dirt-track ace.

Next to pie stall gathert ‘market committee’

From all ower town they came.

And when they weren’t arguing politics or pigeons

They’d pick Heyd’s team for’t next game.

Now on Saturday neetes, so av often bin towd

Market were late to wrap up.

And folks ud usually hang around

So they could get thi Sunday lap-up.

Now a con remember dobby horses

Swing boats, an owd Jock’s stall.

An a con remember Mester Nightingale

Meckin toffee int thowd market ’all.

Wi ’is little stove an thowd copper pan

Tha could wach him meckin his stock.

Ther’d bi cough candy, pear drops an humbugs

Bur his best wert Godley Rock.

He’d pull and raunch it ower a big hook

An cotch it afore it could sag.

Then he’d rowel it out an chop it up

An tha could buy it fer a penny a bag.

Every September Wakes ud come

Now a allus thowt it funny.

No matter ow easy games ud look

Tha could count on losin thi money.

There wert caterpillar, spider and jungle ride

Dodgems, waltzer ... it could cost thi a mint.

An after black puddin an pays, if tha didn’t end up sick

Tha could be sure thad bi gooin wom skint.

But thowd days ave gone an market’s bin dun up

It’s owe becum modern, hygienic an clean.

It’s getten paviours, an planters and colourful stalls

But thi sell nowt nobber trainers an jeans.

© Bill Lancashire December 1998