Burnley Civic Trust Heritage Image Collection

Pickup Croft Burnley 1820 -1960

The area known as Pickup Croft was situated on the land where Burnley Bus Station now stands.

In 1821 the official census figures show that the population was 10,068, by 1851 it had grown to 24,745, by 1871 to 40,858 and by 1961 the population of the town had grown to 80,559.


From an Ordnance Survey Map of 1909

Pickup Croft was generally accepted to be the area inside Grimshaw Street, Parker Lane and Aqueduct Street.


Memories of Pickup Croft in the 1920s From the Burnley Express in 1970.

SOME memories of the Burnley of "the good old days" come from a reader who wishes to remain anonymous:

Just become a pensioner" £5. Gee, what a lot we could have done with that in the twenties down Pickup Croft way. Today I got to thinking of the so-called bad old days. Tell you what, the bad times taught us how to appreciate a pal and how to BE a pal.

If one lass had no money for 'Jimmy's dance,' she would lend her dress to a pal who had enough cash to go, but no dress.

No fuss when mum made a pan of broth " neighbours brought their jugs and all shared. No nonsense about pride " all shared. Then when Mrs. Callaghan baked, it was barm cakes all round. Mrs. Riley would do Mrs. Mason's washing, so that, it could be pawned at Mr. Bradley's pawn shop.

My Dad once even pawned me. It was just a formality. I was let out, because Dad could be trusted to redeem his ' pledge.'

Do any readers recall the pretty maypoles, with gaily bedecked kiddies dancing round? One flamboyant pair used to dance the Flamenco, looking grand in mother's fringe tablecloth, used as a Spanish shawl.

As youngsters, we would follow for miles the Italian organ grinder, and the Scots piper, and roam the streets in the wake of brass bands and out-of-work men singing in the streets to raise a few coppers.

It was significant that these performers came to the poorer streets " another case of 'it's the poor that helps the poor.'

When I visit Burnley, only rarely. I meet up sometimes with the offspring of the old Pickup Croft houses and proudly note the good Job they've done.

Yes. you have won through times that were hard, when the current hit song was: 'Are you working? No, are you?'

"Good luck, lasses. In 1971, from an old pal who remembers.''


Before we move onto the next reminiscence, we should review the social conditions that existed.

In 1875, out 9,285 houses in the Borough, 3484 were back-to-back houses and cellars. Rows of houses, up to twenty in number, joined in the use of one or two privies and ashpits situated at the end of a row; few of them had taps, and as there was scarcely any domestic drainage, passers-by in the street complained of waste water being thrown out from doors and windows. The worst type of houses was the cellar dwelling, damp, devoid of light and fresh air, and subject to flooding. Many of them had ceilings less than 6 inches above the level of the roadway.

At that time the mortality rate in normal years was about 30 per 1,000 of the population, but the most distressing feature was the very heavy death rate among babies and young children, in 1872 out of 1,137 deaths in Burnley, 641 were of children under five yours of age, i.e. 13% greater than in London and 23% greater than the figure for England as a whole. Among babies the commonest ailments were convulsions and diarrhoea, but young children under five were most subject to scarlet fever, measles, and lung troubles. In the opinion of doctors, the high death rate among children was due to bad sanitation, ill nourishment and lack of parental care.

W. Bennett - the History of Burnley pt. 4 pages 10-12.


From an article in the Burnley Express written by Roger Frost, Chairman of the Burnley Civic Trust and local historian.


The Three Horse Shoes at 22 Boot Street, Burnley, though later a common lodging house, once stood in Pickup Croft. The actual site was roughly where the Croft Street entrance to the new Burnley Bus Station is now. Comparisons between the old lodging house and the new bus station could hardly be more dramatic. This remarkable picture, see below, shows the tiny back yard of lodging house. The date is April 1955 and as you can see there is a little snow on the stone flags, an old and rusted dustbin is the right and there is a galvanised buckets in the yard.
The main interest is constituted by long drop toilet, left, and that which makes this picture remarkable, the open men's urinal, to the right. Notice the hosepipe which runs from a hole in the window of the downstairs bedroom window. It carried water from a washroom in the property to flush the tippler toilet. Usually, water from the kitchen slopstone was used but here the water had to cross two rooms before it got to the outside toilet! They were quite commonly installed in property used as public or beerhouses and this is clearly why one had been put in here. In fact, it probably continued to be used when the Three Horse Shoes closed because the common lodging house was registered to accommodate 17 men.

A closer look at the urinal will reveal that this was not its initial use. Notice the wall of which it is a part, there has been an opening in this wall. You can see that there was once some sort of "door" here. The small iron bolts in the stone tell us that.

In fact, this was originally the site of an ash pit, the place where waste and rubbish of all descriptions accumulated before it was taken away by the scavengers. Of course, this system was one of those in use before the introduction of dustbins.
This photograph was taken to use as evidence by Burnley Corporation because a public inquiry was held into the future of the common lodging house. The council had refused to renew the registration giving the reasons that the building was in a poor state of repair, that lighting was inadequate, the closet (toilet) facilities were inadequate and that there were no proper washing facilities in the building.

In the inquiry, quite a lot of information came to light about the conditions in the building. It had been registered for 17 men (although only 12 were living there in 1955).

There were two toilets, excluding the urinal, the one outside and another inside a storeroom in the building.
The kitchen served also as a common room.
It was conceded that it was not big enough to accommodate 17 men though the owners thought it adequate for the 12 who were in residence at. the time.
The stairs were lit by an oil lamp and there was one candle in each of the five bedrooms. There was no heating in any of the bedrooms.
It is not surprising that the council wanted to see it closed because if was Dickensian in the worst sense of the word.

Pickup Croft Church of England School and Mission. Closed in 1957 after a presence of over 100 years (Burnley Express 3 July 1957).

Croft Court off Croft Street colourised by Edward Walton BCT

From an article in the Burnley Express dated 10 February 1945. Happy Days! Pickup Croft in the Nineties


Without memories, what are we? Certainly, rather dull - and poor company. Nothing mingles Interest with pleasure more than memory. A man with a fine memory for things is Mr. J. T. Beilby.


He is a Burnley man now living In Swinton, Manchester. He has visited his native town on many occasions during the past few years.
One day recently he wandered into Red Lion-street 'just to have a look at the little house next to the Lamb Inn, where many youthful happy days were spent.' His thoughts turned to those childhood days. And here are some of the things he remembered.


In fancy, I was back again in the 'nineties. At the bottom of Red Lion-street there were the cattle pens and the steep green field that ended on the banks of the canal. In the waters of this canal and in the stream known as " Owd Webbs" many of the best swimmer that Burnley produced had their first lessons.

We youngsters who resided in Pickup croft were looked upon as 'untouchables' in the early days. Carts loaded with swedes for the cattle often rumbled by our little homestead. Needless to say, not all these edibles arrived at the pens.

Burnley Fair Week was a great event to us children in the 'Croft.' What a thrill went through all when the show people arrived with their horses and wagons! The Cattle Market was like a magnet. All along Parker-lane stalls would be set up displaying the sweets, ice-cream, and many other articles that were a delight to the urchins of the neighbourhood.

The show people lived in their caravans, which would be parked along the stretch of Aqueduct-street. For the sum of 'one penny we could get a good donkey ride to the top of the street and back.

The Cattle Market. What a vast number of scenes come back to me as I look on this desolate waste of ground. During the Fair Week it was the children's paradise. Swings, roundabouts, aunt sallies, cocoanut shies, shooting galleries, and the long narrow covered-in bazaar. On some of the stalls there would be piles of crisp brandy snaps.

Of many shows, " Walls's Ghost Show " was always a great attraction. On the stage in front of the show, Little Tich and General Small would give a free entertainment. The " Barker " would then invite all and sundry to enter.

On other days than Fair Week or when a circus came, this large black patch of ground would be the children's playing field. On it we fought our battles, "laiked" at football, cricket, buck and stick, and" dare I write it? "'"pitch and toss" in a mild form.

Burnley Fair 1920s colourised by Edward Walton of BCT

A large wooden building, called the Gaiety Theatre, stood on the Cattle Market, the Posh entrance facing parker-lane. It was in this theatre that some of the world's greatest melodramas were portrayed. Each week the Tod Slaughters could be seen in such strong meat as "The Iron Man," "The Face at the Window," "Two little Drummer Boys." "dumb Man of Manchester," "East Lynne" and many others.

We would often give an imitation of these plays in our little backyards and charge the children of Pickup Croft a pin to come in.

In order to see my first play, I sold home-made fishing-rod for fourpence. With these few pence my brother and I saw our first play. It was called "The Klondyke Nugget," written and produce by Cody, better known as Buffalo Bill. He played the part of the villain. I can see him now as he sawed through the supports of the bridge spanning a canyon, over which the hero had later to pass.

What a thrill went through that audience when the bridge collapsed, and the horse fell into the chasm below, while the hero clung for dear life to the hand-rail that had been let intact.

In fact, unknown to the audience, the horse each night landed on a soft mattress only a few feet below the stage.

Later in the play we had another great thrill when a Red Indian came flying on horseback through the saloon window to rescue the heroine in the nick of time from the clutches of the villain.

The owner of the theater was Mr. Culeen; he was a typical ringmaster and theatre owner. He dressed the part well - top hat, frock coat and cravat. We only see his likes on the films now. His son, James Edward Culeen, caused quite a stir in pickup Croft when he performed acrobatics on the highest chimney in Burnley during the building of the Destructor in aqueduct-street

Another attraction was the cab rank. Shiny, black hansom and four-wheeled cabs were lined the length of Red Lion-street from Manchester-road to Parker-lane. The horses were always sleek and well-groomed. The Eastwoods and Deans were well known as 'cabbies' in those days.

Where the Palace now stands, we had Ohmy's Circus, and later the Auction Mart. All who visited the circus will remember the water scenes that were held and the cake-walk competitions at the mart.

Life wasn't as fast in those days. We derived our pleasures at small expense. For entertainment we went to the Band of Hope and to the Sunday schools for our concerts. For a mere trifle we could go for a long trip with Hamilton on his excursions when the panorama came to the Mechanics Institute.

At the back of Red Lion-street School there was a shoeing forge. On winter days the sound of the anvil and the sight of the showering sparks were often the cause of many of us being late for school.

Two of the teachers I well remember were miss McGovern and Miss Blanche Mackie. The first-named introduced me to the magic realm of poetry. It was Scott's 'Lady of the Lake.' Later in life I became a pupil for elocution under Miss Mackie when she had her studio near Ormerod-road.

What of the people who resided in Red Lion-street and Pickup Croft? They were, in the main grandly folk, neighbourly, with a spirit that is sadly lacking in the semi-detached and residential districts. Weddings, funerals, confinements, illness and enjoyments brought forth charity, goodwill and comradeship. Their only sin was that of being poor.

Every morning Dicky Burrows would be seen going along the street, his clean guns under his arm or over his shoulder, making his way to the shooting gallery at the far end of the Green, and clothing market. It was always a pleasant sight to see the small balls dancing up and down on the jets of water at this gallery.

A Tasty Feast
Outside the gallery could be seen fires burning in two large grates. Steaming covered pans on the fires contained grey and white peas. Close by was the Yankee Bar, where one could buy for tuppence a huge pork pie made by Jonathan Wood with either grey or white peas. No feast I have had since has tasted as good as that simple fare.

Three copper coins were the entrance fee to the concert in the Market Tavern. In addition to hearing good artists and listening to the one-man band, you received a soft or hard drink.

During the Boer War the warriors from Pickup Croft were escorted to Bank Top Station. Some had to be helped on their way, having celebrated too freely before going on their great adventure. At the station the friends and relations would while away the time until the train steamed in with song and dance to mouth-organ and concertina.

I well remember the jubilation when Mafeking was relieved. On that memorable day I was working as a half-time reacher-in at Dilworth Harrison's in 'The Meadows.'

I often wonder where others are and what has happened to them. Where, for example, are those boys who went on those unforgettable journeys in dangerous waters, commencing at 'Owd Webbs' through the dark tunnel into the light of Towneley Holmes? Or the journeys along the stream in the other direction, passing under Brunswick Chapel, the Town hall, St. James'-street, and coming out in Calder Vale? With lighted tar rope we often made this journey in search of the Robber's Cave.

In modesty, I can say that since those days I have had a varied and interesting life. I have worked and conversed with some of the most prominent writers and politicians in the British Isles, but never have I lost the common touch or the memory of those days spent in Pickup Croft. We had a freedom at the that time which has now been lost in forms, directions, and other people telling us what we have to do

Yes, red Lion-street can compare with any other street in Burnley in the citizens it turned out in the nineties.


This aerial view of Pickup Croft is from a photograph taken in 1934 and was used in the Burnley Express of 4 March 2003.

The cattle market/bus station was also used as the town's fair ground and the circles seen there would be markings in readiness for the annual fair.


This photograph is from the Burnley Express dated 29 October 1958. On the left is the Magistrates Court on the side of the Police station and the car on the right is parked outside the Central Library. In the middle is 15 to 41 Grimshaw Street at the start of the demolition work. The far end of the block is Parker Lane with the Burnley Building Society to the right.


From the Burnley Express 19 September 1959

The Pickup Croft area of yesteryear with its crowded, old terraced houses and its narrow, cobbled streets, has already practically disappeared from the Burnley scene.
This week the Improvement committee saw, and approved for consideration by the Town Council, the plan of the zone that is to be an area of wide, modern thoroughfares serving shops and offices, a new bus station and a Garden of Remembrance, along with facilities already in existence. The area is bounded on the side farthest away from the town centre by the proposed inner ring-road. Two of the projects - the bus station and the by-pass road - are scheduled to commence in the current financial year. 1959-60. Practically the whole of the plan for the area is expected to be a reality within the next five years, subject to obtaining all necessary official consents so far not received.


The Old Cattle Market, then the bus station, at the other end of Grimshaw Street abutting Parker Lane prior to the Police Station and Magistrates Court being built (Early 50s).

The area is cleared for the bus station to be built.(Burnley Express 09 Janurary 1960).

Burnley's new Bus Station

The only building of the Pickup Croft era is the Jireh, Strict Baptist Chapel in Boot Street that opened 31 July 1853, sadly it is no longer in use as a chapel.

Pickup Croft in the mid-1800s

Mr. T. Preston's Reminiscences.
Originally Printed by "Burnley Express Printing Company"
WHEN the recently lamented death of Mr. Thomas Bell left a vacant date in the syllabus of the Burnley Literary and Scientific Club, his old friend Mr. Thomas Preston, now of St. Annes, kindly stepped into the breach, and provided the members of the club with a racy and most interesting paper on a, kindred subject on Tuesday, February 13th, 1917. Mr. Bell was to have spoken of "Burnley as I have known it "; Mr. Preston choose for his paper " Pickup Croft sixty years ago." There was a large audience (presided over by Mr. G. A. Wood, M.A.), and they were thoroughly entertained with Mr. Preston's racy narrative, disclosing as it did a very vivid memory of people and places sixty years ago. The interest and value of the address were greatly enhanced by many excellent views of old Burnley and photographs of notable men and women of fifty or sixty years ago. A plan of Pickup Croft in those days, showing what a very different district, it was then compared with today, was also much welcomed. Many of the best-known families in the town were linked with the Pickup Croft of an earlier day. Besides pictures of many bits of old Burnley, now for the most part gone, were portraits of the Rev. Robert Mosley Master, Mr. William Milner Grant, General Scarlett, the Rev. Wm. Thursby, Mr. Richard Shaw (first M.P. for Burnley), the Rev. W. Lancaster Taylor (still living at St. Annes), Alderman John Moore (Burnley's first Mayor), Dr. Buck and his mule, Dr. Coultate, Col. Towneley, Lady O'Hagan as a young lady, Alderman John Hargreaves Scott (the donor of Scott Park), Mr. James McKay (author of "Pendle Hill and its Surroundings"), and the parents of many of the leading townsmen of to-day. In the discussion which followed some happy additions to Mr. Preston's recollections were made by Mr. P. J. Grant, J.P., Mr. James Lancaster, J.P., Mr. Shackleton, Mr. Robinson Mercer, and Mr. W. L. Grant. Mr. Preston received a very hearty vote of thanks, on the motion of Mr. P. J. Grant, seconded by Mr. T. Foster.

Racy Reminiscences.
Mr. Preston, in the course of his entertaining lecture, said:"
On the thirteenth of August, in the year 1843, a well set-up, intelligent-looking tradesman standing before the Rev. Richard Jones in the Gisburne Parish Church placed on the third finger of the left hand of an attractive personality of the opposite sex a gold ring, upon the inner circle of which was engraved, "No riches like content." The father, William Hall, gave his daughter away, and the bridegroom's cousin William was the best man. The two men were keen friends, and William had ridden over from Little Mearley, his home on the western slopes of Pendle, on his smart donkey to attend the wedding. Mr. Jones took great interest in the bride, for she had been the scholar in his Sunday and day schools whom lie found most proficient in the subjects sacred and profane that were in the Gisburne curriculum. She was also irreproachable for conduct, and had passed through the various stages necessary to become an orthodox member of the Church. While he is addressing a friendly homily to the pair, we will take a glance at their antecedents. They were both members of ancient houses. She was of the Kays of Ripon and York. The will of Richard Kay, her great grandfather, is a fulsome document, and shows that though he had ample means for himself, it was insufficient to provide for his children, so they were placed out to various occupations. His daughter Ann went into the service of the Rev. Sydney Smith, who had the living of Foston, in Yorkshire. She became famous afterwards as the doyen of lady's maids. Lady Holland, who wrote her father's memoirs, says: "All who have been at Foston know Ann Kay. She was called into consultation on every family event, and proved herself a worthy oracle. "Jane, her sister, entered the service of Lord Ribblesdale, and married William Hall, of Elbeck, his Lordship's teamster. They lived at Ellenthorp, a house situated in beautiful surroundings near the Ribble on the turnpike road to Bolton-by-Bowland. Ellenthorp was an ideal spot to be brought up at. Here the wedding breakfast was served, and the head of the house was asked to tell cousin William something of his adventures as a trooper in the regiment Thomas Lister raised at his own expense to help his country in the crisis of its fate when the Charlatan of Corsica set Europe in a blaze, and for which he was created Lord Ribblesdale. He told how they came in 1792 to York and were billeted and trained, and expressed pleasure at having helped to smash " Old Boney," as he called him. Henry, for that was the bridegroom's Christian name, could, along with his cousin, trace his descent through the Mearley line to the year 1240. His father, William, being the second son, was brought up as a miller at Chipping, where he wooed and won Alice Parkinson, of Coldcoats.

They Began Life
at the Read Mill, and there Henry, the third son, was born in 1818. Afterwards, owing to an arrangement after the death of his father at Little Mearley, they entered into possession of Ravensholme, a large farm at the top of Downham-Eaves. This became their permanent home, and from it Henry, in his thirteenth year, went for an eight years' apprenticeship to John Watson, of Clitheroe, with whose family he lived the whole of the time. In due course he knew all the great houses for miles around, and at Gisburne Park met his beloved Dinah. Burnley being spoken of as a rising town, and Henry having a few friends there, it was decided to make it their home. After a good look round they took the house No. 18, in Croft-street. Its position, high up above the Brun, its nearness to the centre of the town, its facility for the country, and the respectable character of the neighbours, decided them. Mr. John Veevers, of Hargreaves-street, found Henry work to his liking, and suitable compatriots. He thought most highly of the Veevers' family, and followed the fortunes of its various members with interest to the close of his life. John Veevers died in 1846, and the business devolved upon Miles and Thomas, the elder sons. John was then but a boy. In the year 1862, the business was taken over by their trusty foreman and a nephew of the John Watson, of Clitheroe. Old Mr. Carruthers, a dour, wrinkled-faced Scotchman, who travelled the country around with a pack, lived next door. He was joined later by another Scotchman called Bell, who in time had an extensive round of customers of his own. Higher up the street was the Parker's Arms, over which, on the top floor, was one of the largest assembly rooms Burnley then possessed. It had been let for religious and secular meetings, but was then used as a school for boys and girls by a tall, benign, sinless-looking pedagogue named Hargreaves, who had a son with the Byronic limp, and was in the lawyer's office near, and who had in the town the euphonious cognomen of Caggy. A gentle daughter there was as well, and the family lived in one of the houses in Ormerod-street, behind the Literary Institute. Mr. Evans, the pastor of Sion Chapel, was an intimate friend, and he lived near the teacher at the offices now occupied by Mr. Robinson, the sharebroker, in Hargreaves-street. The two scholarly men would often be seen walking to their respective duties in sociable converse. Mr. Evans' elder girl married Will Berry, and the younger Mr. Bowen, the wholesale grocer in Lomas' Warehouse, married the younger.

In the three houses adjoining the Parker's Arms Mrs. Spencer, one of the tenants, had a life interest. She had a nephew living with her who it was thought caused something that made that part of the Croft famous for a few weeks. The windows behind the houses were shattered and shattered again by an invisible agency. Some talked of spirits, others brought the police, but it was
All to no Purpose.
The mischief ceased, and it was stated afterwards that the nephew's air gun had done the trick from a hiding-place that was not discovered. Mr. Higgin, the saddler, from Blucher-street, also lived there. His daughter Mary attended T. B. Spencer's School in Cliviger-court"up some outside steps"in what had been a joiner's shop. Mary Hargreaves, of Burnley Wood, also was a scholar, as were Joshua and John Rawlinson. The Rev. W. Lancaster Taylor, now of St. Annes, was a scholar at the same time. Mary Higgin was a handsome girl and very musical. She afterwards married Mr. Hargreaves, a schoolmaster at Accrington, and resided there. Tom Nowell and other musically-inclined ones often came to practise. I think Tom's instrument was either the piccolo or the oboe. I often saw Tom. He wore a plaid cap, and was a gay, dressy youth, with a sufficiency of dash and assurance. He followed the profession of a solicitor assiduously, and became partner with Walter Southern's father in Hargreaves-street, afterwards continuing the practice on his own account. He made many friends, politically, socially, and among the Wesleyans. He became Clerk to the Borough Bench, and acquiring sufficient means built a model house on the slopes of Healey. He was one of the famous four who "one foot up and one foot down travelled the road to London town." He was a caustic retorter, generally giving more than he got. His Rolands overmatched the Olivers he received. Occasionally he overstepped the bounds of restraint to air his wit and wound his auditor. At the corner tenement Bollard and Mitchell dispensed law when they had the opportunity. Mr. Bollard married the widowed mother of the heir to Little Mearley, and lived for many years at Whitehough, near Barley. Alderman James Greenwood was born at a house on the height above, and William Roberts, of James and William Roberts, of Walker Hey Mill, Burnley, lived at Thorneyholme, a little lower down the Pendle Water Valley. The first shop round the corner in Yorkshire-street was occupied by Simon Harker, the tinner. Tinning was as necessary to the Harkers as the Harkers were to tinning. At the shop next door but one at the corner of Pickup-street, Miss Leach and her mother lived. She was a milliner, and carried herself with dignity and prudence. The central shop, to which we return, had a small square sign over the door, on which was lettered, "Thomas Bell, licensed to sell tea, coffee, tobacco, snuff, etc." This was the Scotch friend of Carruthers in Croft-street. During his extensive round with his pack he had many experiences. The pleasant-tongued and winsome Scotchman

Became a Favourite
at Royle, where the Master family were in residence. The young ladies' nurse was shrewd and attractive. She attracted the pedlar, and when he proposed she was shrewd enough to accept, and they made a good start in life at the grocer's shop. He did not give up his rounds. The children, Mary Ann, Tom, and Alice, were born there. The mother was one of the Whipp family of Clitheroe and Downham, and soon got acquainted with Dinah and Henry, who also came from "over the hill." Here memory insists on anticipation, and fondly recalls a treasured day when with Mr. Bell, Mary Ann, and Tom, who were going Christmassing to Uncle Robert Clarke, the Downham village blacksmith, I was privileged to be of the company as far as Ravens Holme. What a morning it was, the ground was covered with a slight frost, the sun shone gloriously, the sound of St. Peter's bells filled the air, and the refrain from a brass band at Clifton or Crow Wood broke in at times with its pleasing variety. Smiles were all around, even on old big Anthony Greenwood's face. He had just come from the set-back house opposite with his gorgeous fob chain dangling and his wonderful stick well in hand. The tavern below, where John Gaynor afterwards sold eatables, seemed to have been re-painted. George Foster, the druggist, was standing in the door of his shop with his hands in his pockets, having nothing to do for them that merry Christmas Day. With a cheery good-morning we passed Bland's butcher's shop and the daughter who helped in it. Tom Hey was just coming out to court from the Shorey fairies his daily glass at their famous well. Mr. Pulton, the butcher, and his handsome wife were very genial as they saw us pass; while James Richmond, the grocer, and his wife at the bottom shop were kindly attending to some urgent want of a customer who could not wait another day. They waved hands to us as we stepped along. Thomas Dean's usually busy corn warehouse was silent and closed. Thomas Hargreaves had not as yet taken the business over. He was still the counter chief at Greenwood's Mill, where at that time was also young W. L. Taylor as a clerk upstairs. Crossing over, we looked down the escarpment and up the Brun, where the incrustations of ice could be seen edging it all the way to Old School-lane and St. Peter's Church. Turning round, we saw Brown Fletcher's daughter looking over the sitting-room blind in the house across the road, and Elizabeth Ann and Alice Keirby standing on their high doorstep were noticed as they gave us their smiles and good wishes. The Oddfellows' Tavern at the corner next Gunsmith-lane sent out Miss Green and the landlady to sun themselves, and they saw us pass round Hey's shop and on towards the pleasant fields and

Glorious Hill.
Chapel-street did not then go through to Gunsmith-lane, nor were the present chapel or schools built, but the old chapel was there entrenched in its hedged-in graveyard. The adventures of the Pendle party were of a most pleasant kind, Mr. Bell providing ample refreshment at the Pendle Inn, Barley, and Ravens-Holme did not belie its reputation for hospitality when it was reached. It is said that the shepherd returning on calm nights from Pendle by Ravens-Holme can hear the soft, low chimes of distant bells, "the monks' bells" which were removed from Whalley to Downham.
"Ah, happy hill; ah, pleasing shades!
Ah, fields beloved in vain! Where once my careless childhood strayed,
A stranger yet to pain."

Mary Ann Bell married Mr. Oldman, whose work at St. Andrew's School was on a par with that of Mr. Grant's at St. Peter's. Both Mr. and Mrs. Oldman were effectual instruments in the education of great numbers, who will never forget the traditions of honour, good living, and sound mentality which their teaching and example has handed on. Alice married William Greenhalgh, an old Top-o'-th'-Towner, who has occupied for many years a position of trust at the Burnley Building Society. Tom, as he was always called, after serving his time with Matthew Watson and William Waddington, and being a partner with Mr. James Hitchon, became an architect in much request and great repute. As he said, he could not design like Angelo Waddington, but as I said, "With your seeing eye and shaping brain you are perhaps of more real use." He married Miss Hall, of St. Peter's School, who lived with Miss Makin at the Pickup Croft Infants' School House, when Miss Makin was the schoolmistress of that school. The ladies might both be considered Pickup Crofters. Jonas Crossley, very well known as Jim Whittaker's salesman, married Miss Makin. She was called to her rest last August. Tom was a forcible personality"often a stormy petrol at meetings where he was sternly critical. He enjoyed baiting a body of directors. His persistence in opposition has altered many a programme. Yet how industrious he was, and unflagging in his attention to his profession. How he liked to tell stories against himself. What a vast amount of work he has done. What admirable buildings he has erected. He was fond of travel, and ever ready to make a sketch. He took to collecting pictures, and was a critical reader of standard books. His epitaph, like that of Wren's in St. Paul's Cathedral, might be, "Seekest thou his monument? Look around." The Pickup Croft district has not come within the

Purview of the Historian,
antiquarian, or the town's scribe. Its natives have not made a great show, but the result of their work will remain a joy for ever. To the superficial observer, the highest peaks belittle the forest of lowlier ones. Pepys does not chronicle the doings of the proletariat. Macaulay's masterpieces abound in outstanding personalities. Green wrote the history of the English people. I would follow in his steps and refer to some of the old Pickup Crofters, who, unremembered by proud monument or sculptured bust, by their industry and steadfastness left a better world than they found. When I first apprehended Nature and man's handiwork, grass and corn grew where are now myriads of houses and vast industrial works. Healey and Moseley Heights, Mereclough Ridge, Bouldsworth, Hambledon, and glorious old Pendle could be clearly seen from one part of the town or another without the canopy of smoke which now intervenes. They were the natural protectors of the small town in the hollow as are the surrounding Galillean hills that shelter the similarly-situated city where our Lord was brought up.

Sweet poets have sung of Orcadian vales
Bedecked with delectable flowers,
Famed authors describe in their wonderful tales
Pearly meads and ambrosial bowers,
But I sing of a valley where wandering free,
Bonny stream is begemmed by the sun,
My dear native dale, none so precious to me,
As the beautiful vale of the Brun.

To our young couple in Croft-street a little stranger came, who soon was recalled. From a letter dated July 18th, 1847, another boy was born, and is referred to by Ann Kay. the writer. The parents had just returned from a visit to her in London. She said: "Glad to hear you got home again and found mother and Thomas quite well. Poor little boy, what joy to see father and mother again. The first parting he had from both of them together. I should have liked to have seen the meeting." A few weeks after and Mrs. Smith wrote that her "dear Kay" had passed away. Henry went to London, and while there Dinah wrote that there had been a dreadful accident with the Todmorden coach, and that Lavender, their neighbour, was nearly killed. Thomas grew apace, and when the Pickup Croft Infants' School was opened he started his education there. Miss Whiteley, a nice white haired lady, was the mistress. With her at the School House lived Miss Williamson, who married John Nuttall, printer, and was mistress of the St. Peter's Girls' School. In after years her daughter, "Polly" Nuttall, held the same position, retiring on a pension a little while ago. Her father was the foreman at Sutcliffe's printing works in St. James'-st., and which after

One Hundred Years' Existence
is now carried on by Anderson and Co. Ltd. What stories of his masters, Mr. Strange, and others he used to tell. He was a strong Churchman and rather learned. Dinah started a shop on the opposite side of the street, and had a little maid from Fox Stones, Rosie Procter, to help her. Rosie had brothers who became painters. She married Mr. Sutcliffe, a cotton manufacturer. At the back of the new home was Cliviger Court and T. B. Spencer's School, to which Thomas was soon transferred. On Enon Chapel being completed, T. B. removed to the schoolroom there, ultimately retiring to edit the "Burnley Advertiser." Mr. Waddington, who originated and ran it, was a very good workman but an indifferent business man, and did not make the headway he should have done. His nephew, William, was our late respected Market Inspector, and was recognised as an antiquarian authority. Mr. Spencer helped this club in its early days by giving papers, initiating discussions, and by his admirable elocution. "The principle of the greatest good," "Spiritualism" and "Vegetarianism," were dealt with in his racy, intelligent way. His recitation of "Bingen on the Rhine" produced a profound effect. He left two sons and two daughters. The fine family of Pollards were intimate neighbours. James had a grocer's shop later in Church-street, where Richard Lund now lives. His wife was a nice woman, and his daughter is to-day happily married in the town. "William, the eldest son, and John, the youngest, were cabinet makers, who did good work, while Robert, with his black curly hair, was a mechanic. Besides the timber yard in Cliviger-street there was accommodation for Peter Fletcher and other tradesmen in Blucher-street for storage of their empties, &c. On the right hand going down was the spacious croft to Dr. Knowles' house, and then a suite of offices where Buck and Eastwood practised as solicitors. Anthony Buck was an important man in many ways. In town's affairs he was a leader, and among the first batch of Aldermen. The firm grew and expanded. A. B. Creeke, his nephew, carried on its traditions. I remember his wedding very well. Miss Ledgard, his bride and cousin, was married from the house on North Parade, where their busy, fussy aunts lived. Mr. Geo. Haslam's head dressmaker, Miss Johnson, attended with myself and Will Emmett, another boy at Haslam's, carrying the bridal robes. The fitting-on process proceeded, and Miss Sarah asked the two boys about their parentage. She knew the fathers of both, and taking the lads within the front sitting-room door displayed

The Breakfast Spread.
Taking a tart from a plateful she said, while their mouths watered, "Would you like one?" and then tantalisingly replaced it with the remark, "Now then, you must go." I can just imagine the wedding party and its very happy time with
" Bright-eyed Fancy, hovering o'er,
Scattering from her pictured urn
Thoughts that breathe and words that burn."

Mr. and Mrs. Creeke often helped us at our club. He was a capable numismatician. He placed an ornate monument over his uncle's grave on which he inscribed
" Titles on tombs are titles vainly spent,
A man's good name is his best monument."

Next door to the lawyers Robert Broxup conducted a shaving and hair-dressing business, while at the corner shop David Horner, with whom our folks were very friendly, had a grocery establishment. James Pollard, his nephew, was there as an apprentice. David was fond of a pony and cattle generally, and ultimately was a butcher opposite the Cross Keys. Three of his sons were highly respected and of great service in the town's extending importance. Will, the eldest, after being a bookkeeper, started a high-class bookshop and fancy goods store in Manchester-road. He afterwards took over the management of the Victoria Theatre, and later the Empire, and has made them great successes. Mrs. Horner has ably supported her husband, and with him has ever been ready to help in the promotion of worthy causes. John, the second son, as is indicated by the broken column over his grave, was cut off in the prime of life, just as he seemed to be of the greatest use. From being the office boy at Pilling Field Cotton Mill, he rose to almost absolute control. He married Miss Cragg, a well-known vocalist, and their daughter is the wife of Mr. Dunkerley, the boot maker, who is also an organist of repute. Tom, the youngest, did not marry, but with his sister lived in Standish-street till his death. He was secretary for Oxford Mill Co. for many years, also a director, as he was also of Hill Top Mill. Tom Blackburn, who had a shattered leg, was roller-coverer at Oxford Mill, and a great friend of Horner's. He was a superior man, and was the son of Ned Blackburn, a painter at Veever's shop in Hargreaves-street. Next to Horner's was Burnett, the bootmaker's shop. He had a son, and a daughter who married a painter. His business was the one, along with Yarwood's and Proudlove's, held in most repute. Next door the Sutcliffes, husband and wife, attended assiduously to their large second-hand book shop. A door about three feet six inches high protected the entrance to the shop against street arabs, dogs and dust. I began my habit of spending time at second-hand book stores at this wonderful shop of Sutcliffe's, which I recall with intense pleasure as my first glance into bookland's elysium. Higher up was Dr. Knowles' house, stables, and surgery. He was a fine, well-known man, and was very friendly with Sutcliffe, Burnley's chief wine and spirit merchant of that day. He was an able man, but had some very unconventional ways.

John Knowles, the Barrister,
was his son, and he and Austin Lee, of the Building Society, were close associates. John married, and had one daughter, who was married at Kirkby Lonsdale a few years ago. Summerfield, a beautiful place near, had for some time been Mr. Knowles' home. Hiram Uttley, the doctor's assistant, was a character. His bent head, his serious look, and his seldom heard tongue, gave him a reputation which the envious said was not justified. He became a public man, an Alderman and a J.P. He had a charming house near Barrowford, and his groom (who was afterwards caretaker at the Guardians' offices) drove him to and fro. He was also a Guardian of the Poor, and read a paper before our club in 1884 on "The History of the Poor Law." He had a most amiable wife, the embodiment of kindness and generosity.

Going down Croft-street we come to Lavender and Sons' extensive blacksmith's business, conducted in the basement of the property where they lived. The taller dwellings are now made into through houses, but those below are still back-to-back ones. Round the corner, at the bottom of the row, and facing into Boot-street, lived James Hey, to whom I often took father's boots to sole and heel. Two or three steps led into the living room. The door is now walled up. His wife called him downstairs. It was not a large room. James came down the steep and rather dark stone stairs in the corner, and on my telling him that the boots had to be welted as well, he broke into a humorous monologue which made us smile. On the death of his wife's father, Mr. Midgley, of Lane Bridge, he became a grocer at the shop opposite the Star Inn. He afterwards handed it on to his brother Richard, who had two sons painters, Albert and Arthur, and one daughter, who lived and died in Anne-street. Mr. Hey negotiated from Mr. Hanson the purchase of Oxford Mill, which Joshua Rawlinson floated for him. He took the wine and spirit business in Coal-street which the Temples had worked, and with Lawrence Whittam as his manager did very well. His son-in-law taking it over from him, he started a career of building property of an extensive kind. He bought Glenn's old shops in St. James'-street and Chancery-street, and completely rebuilt them. Unfortunately he got into law with James Wiseman, who owned the next shop, and we know that when friends fall out on a matter easy of compromise the fray becomes fast and furious and heart-breaking. Afterwards he bought some old property at the top of Yorkshire-street, at the corner of Basket-street, and engaged Mr. Bell to put up a new block in its place. Then

The Old Property
in St. James'-row, St. James'-street, and Coal-street was acquired, and Mr. Bell and the contractors completed for him that extensive and expensive block called St. James' Hall. He was at one time churchwarden of St. Peter's Church, and was chairman of the Oxford Mill Co. from its inauguration till his death. He liked a good job, and did not banter his tradesmen. Mr. Bell and I used to say it was a pity he was not a Croesus, as if he had been, he would have transformed the mean appearance of much of our main street property into forms of architectural beauty. Will Smith, a painter, of whom I show a slide, lived up some steps, at the first house round the corner from Hey's. Across Croft-street, at the corner of Boot-street, Martha Nutter kept a grocer's shop and also "The Wheat Sheaf Inn." Her nephew, George Eastwood, who had a wooden leg, and was a clerk in Buck's office, lived with her. He was a nephew of Richard Eastwood, Col. Towneley's agent, and ran for a time Clowbridge Mill. He married Matthew Brown's daughter, a brewer, of Preston, and Mr. George Storey married her sister. Mr. Eastwood came to live at Healey Hall, but somehow his affairs caused him to leave, and he went Burscough way to live. He had been looked upon as a man to envy on account of what was thought his phenomenal prosperity. Opposite to the Wheat Sheaf Mrs. Riley had a block of property, and kept a pot shop at the corner. The block next to hers, and down into Peter-street, belonged to Simon Harker, and his brother Robert, pig killer and cellarman at our place, lived in one of the houses. Mr. Swann, bookbinder at Sutcliffe's works, also lived in Peter-street, and was a fine man in many ways. At the corner of Red Lion - street Josiah Smith kept the Albion Inn and livery stables adjoining. At the opposite corner the Swires' ran a grocery business, while at the other end, at the angle to Parker-lane, Rushton, the potato dealer, ran a big fruit business by the aid of his sons and shapely daughter. Just across from them, in Red Lion-street, Elijah Sagar's mother kept a shop, to which I often went to see Elijah in our school days. He married Richard Nelson's pleasant, comely daughter, and they have lived some years at Blackpool. Where the St. Leger is, was Mr. Fishwick, the veterinary surgeon, and a fine, gentlemanly man he was, and attended, with his attractive wife, St. Mary's Church. After

Red Lion-Street Schools
were finished, Dr. Sutcliffe, of Well House, built a block of property further on in Parker-lane, and went into the oil business. I knew the father and mother and all the sons and daughters very well, as I sat near them for many years at St. Peter's Church, where they were most regular attenders. Going along Boot-street, Jeremiah Kippax had the shop now run by his son John. Jerry, as he was called, was an inspiring force, and a companion to keep you out of the dumps. He was keen on cricket. Old Kenyon had his barber's place next door at one time. Then old John Hale, painter, with a gibing gift. And across was Jireh Chapel, opened in 1853. The principal supporter then was Richard Holden, Towneley's agent, who had an office under the Literary Institute, and accompanied by his dog and stick, made many journeys between there and his house at Prospect-terrace every day. He was the father of Thomas Chaffer Holden, who married Mrs. Crabtree's elder daughter"George Slater was the mother's brother"and Richard Pilkington"fond of a dog and a gun"married the younger. Tom Crabree, one of the sons, was an ironmonger, brought up at Hartley Wilman's shop. He died at Preston, leaving behind two daughters, who married and live at St. Annes-on-the-Sea. Coming back to Jireh, my friend from early times, James Holgate, manager for many years to Nuttall & Co., printers, in Bridge-street, has been the principal supporter and exponent of the Jireh faith for many a decade. James was a character in the best sense of the word. He always wore a top hat, and shared with Mr. Thorp that unique distinction. He was very brilliant at arithmetic. John Massey expressed his doubt of James's figures, they were so quickly arrived at, but never found an error. When at the Bank Top ticket office it was a general remark how smart and resourceful he was. In everything he did, thoroughness and accuracy and honour beyond reproach were ever in combination. He was cheerful and considerate, but there was no light talk, no flippancy, no dash or splash or swank with James. The seriousness of life in regard to future existence had got a firm grip upon him in his later years. He married Miss Wood, the hatter's sister, who predeceased him, and has left two sons and one daughter. Behind Jireh, and up a wooden outside stairway, John Robinson had a joiner's shop, and made coffins for the Burnley Union. He lived at the corner of Grimshaw-street and Parker-lane. He was a son of the Robinson who built Prospect-terrace and the houses behind. The ramifications of the Robinson family

Spread Far and Wide,
and it was very difficult to get at their various relationships. Mrs. George Rawcliffe, tea dealer, whose daughter married Sam Smallpage, was John's sister. Passing along Boot-street to the Infants' School, we see tall James Seddon at his shop door. He has just returned from his pedlar's round. He was an intelligent, painstaking grocer and general dealer, and lived in his own property. He had lively times of it when elections were on, for his living room behind the shop was the committee room for the time being of one of the parties. His son, Jonathan, married Grace, the daughter of Richard Slater, the brother of Geo. Slater, of Slater's clock fame. Joshua Porritt, tailor and carpet fitter, lived next door. He was rather abrupt. His two sons, William and Christopher, went to Grant's School, and became important men in their respective spheres of labour. His daughter married, and still keeps a shop in Parsonage-street, I believe. Phillips, the taxidermist next door, had his front room walls covered with examples of his art. His son Tom was one of the first to volunteer in 1859, and soon became a sergeant. Ellen Simpson and her parents lived next door, and a nice quiet family they were. He was a mason. The daughter married John Walton, of Burnley Lane. The three next houses belonged to old Frank Riley, from Newehurch-in-Pendle, and he lived in the furthest. He brought his savings to Burnley and built this property and three houses behind, so that his sons, Joe and George, and his daughters, Martha and Mary, could find suitable employment. Joe became night watchman to the Corporation, and the other three were weavers. Frank could tell hair-raising stories. My brother Henry, with Alice, now Mrs. Proctor, and. Annie, now Mrs. Albert Lupton, and myself have gone very quietly to bed after old Frank (who came to see our grandfather Hall) had given us a night's nerves' upsetter. After old Frank's house was a row newly built. In the first house William Robinson, brother of the John before referred to, lived. He stood well up and was a shapely man, and a cabinet-maker. After his day's work he would stand outside in his white shirt sleeves and always smoking a long pipe. He had a daughter who married, but whom I have lost sight of. Now crossing over Boot-street we see the Golden Lion Tavern, kept by Win. Pollard. From his place right to the top of both Miller-street and Fulledge-street, as Norton-street was then called, the whole block of houses belonged to Norton Fletcher, the son of Mr. Fletcher, who had run a mill in the town. On the left-hand side Andrew Heap had just built four houses and a shop. It was kept by Parkinson, Parkinson, one of the men at the corn mill. His son Isaac occupied it until his death a short time back. In the top house Martha Barritt and her husband lived. He was an engineer. They were a happy, contented couple, with a small family growing up around. He was suddenly cut off, and Martha was left with one boy and two girls. By dint of

Continuous Efforts of Her Own
the children went the round of school life, and as they reached the official age became weavers. Eventually by the persistent industry of the united family Martha has achieved a position in her old age of leisure and independence. All honour to those who, like her, come through the waters of tribulation to peace and competency.
On the empty land adjoining, Henry Preston and William Hall built six houses of a better kind than any others in Norton-street, and removed from Croft-street into No. 19, the topmost of them. At the back of this house the Latter-day Saints had their meeting-place, and we could often hear them singing. We took interest in them, for opposite our front door lived Thomas and Bella Myers, and Thomas, like Jas. Holgate at Jireh, was the chief supporter and exponent. Bella was rather restless about their views, for it only began to be known after a time that plurality of wives was allowed. I knew the sons well, and don't think they were in love with their father's creed. However, in course of time Thomas proved his faith to the hilt by going out to Salt Lake City. I think his wife and perhaps a daughter followed in a year or two, but how they went on I do not know. At the door below Myers', John Bennett, shoemaker, and his wife, Ann, lived. Their nephew, Charles Massey, who after their death inherited their money, lived in a house higher up the street. Andrew Nelson, a well-known master blacksmith, lived in another. He was a hearty, brawny man, with plenty of width between the shoulders. His son, Andrew, who was very helpful at Salem, met Sam Murdoch, the painter's, elder daughter there, and they were married. The business was changed to Andrew Nelson & Son. Sam Murdoch came to Burnley at the same time as my father, and each of them thought very highly of the other. He lived in a house in Water-street, next door to Smith's pawnbroker's shop. Fanny, Murdoch's younger daughter, married Watson, the painter. He succeeded to her father's business in Red Lion - street. One night when three friends and school-fellows, Will Riding, Tom Lund, and Jim Driver, were at our house, a sing-song voice was heard coming down the street. We all ran to the door, for my mother said it was old Long-de-Dong. We saw him pass the door with his bundles of wood matches slung about him, and his only song recurring every time he had disposed of a pennyworth""Long-de-Dong, old Long-de-Dong." He came round twice a year. Next door to our house lived Tom and Peggy Tuart. She was a cheerful soul, and Tom often provoked her. He was a good craftsman, and as a hobby made very artistic birdcages. His son Peter was schoolmaster at Mereclough for a long time, and has just been called away, really before his time and when almost indispensable. Mary Jennet, his elder sister, married Tom Watson, and the younger is the wife of Fred Slater, cotton manufacturer. The next street on Boot-st. was Pickup-st., named after the owner of Pickup's field, on which the central part of Pickup Croft is built. Veevers Cunliffe held sway from Boot-st. for a fair distance up Pickup-st. and the court behind, and his prosperous business of blacksmith, wheelwright, and farrier required it all. The carts and other vehicles often filled up the bottom of the court. Sam, his youngest, was at school. Ambrose wielded the heavy hammer, and all were busily employed. A fine, large family was left behind. Mr. Coar married one of the handsome daughters.

She Wore Curls,
had a son at Nelson, and a daughter, or may be two, and not long since lived in Nicholas-street. John Pickles, who married another daughter, was for many years auditor to the Burnley Building Society. His sons are in good positions, and both well spoken of. Joseph is the secretary of the Borough Building Society, and George is the Borough Engineer and Surveyor. He has taken a great interest in my subject, and provided the map from which a slide of the Pickup Croft district has been made. A timber yard adjoined Cunliffe's plot, and on this Harry Tunstill, a well-known character from Wheatley Laue, built six houses. The Hardacre family lived in one of them, and Richard Procter, the son of one of the sisters, was often with us in our romps and in our jolly talks in an unused hen-pen, which we had cleaned well out, and which we warmed and lit up with an oil lamp. Dick went to Backhouse & Whittam's office as a boy, got his articles, and succeeded to the business. He was a breezy personality, and well-known in the town, where his son carries on the tradition and the profession. Now we must go back to Boot-street and on to Aqueduct-street, where Robinson Greenwood and his sons, John, Robin, Miles, and James, carried on the business of corn millers. Robinson and his wife at Crow Wood were a comfortable, homely pair. They ran a very large farm there, and took an active interest in it. Whatever time his sons got in at night, Robinson saw that they were off in the morning so as to be at the mill at six o'clock. Robin used to tell how, though he had only been in bed an hour or so, the relentless call came, and he had to be up and off. John was a thorough gentleman, and played a great part in Burnley life. He married the daughter of Mr. James Roberts, of Tarleton House, and lived at first at Turf Moor, next door to Canon Rimmer. Robin was lively and bluff to a degree. His wife was a most charming and handsome woman. From the honeymoon they came direct to the detached house adjoining the mill, and the lads playing about, of whom I was one, saw them arrive in a cab. He inherited from his uncle, of Prospect-terrace, the property now the Yorkshire Penny Bank, and died in the South of England. His brother Miles, like the late John Butterworth the elder, walked along with his eyes on the ground, apparently cogitating. Quick at figures, and careful, he was out of his element as a buyer and salesman. He eventually became a clergyman. He had heard the call, "Go ye into all the world," and without fear of consequences preached the gospel to the heathen Chinese. He may be considered one of

Burnley's Noblest Sons,
and his memory is perpetuated by a tablet in St. Peter's Church, placed there by W. L. Taylor, one of his clerks. James, the youngest, has had the onerous burden of carrying on the extensive business at Burnley, Blackburn, and Accrington. His goings out and comings in to business through the Pickup Croft district have been so constant for nearly fifty years that his form and cheery good mornings were looked forward to with pleasure by those on his route. He has been keen on business, and left to other men the management of public affairs. Opposite the corn mill offices, John, Thomas, and Benjamin Chaffer followed their father as joiners and builders in a three-storey building, now gone. They built a larger works on the opposite side higher up. They were well-to-do, and were all bachelors, each of them having separate and distinct characteristics. They lived together with their unmarried sister in the large house behind Sion Chapel. One of our great novelists would have had unique material to produce a thrilling story of the Wuthering Heights type from this singular trio. Their nephew, Tom, my old mate, married the eldest sister of John Knowles, and he died at Knighton several years ago, Mr. Fred Grant spending a few pleasant hours with him there a very short time before the event. John Chaffer afterwards lived in a house he owned in Todmorden-road. Thomas, his brother, was known as " Young Old Thomas." His father's name was Thomas, and his nephew's the same, so the distinguishing appellation was necessary. He had an ancient look, and wore black clothes and his old top hat well set back. Benjamin, the youngest brother, slouched about utterly indifferent to appearances"possibly proud of them"and without topcoat or umbrella, however much such were needed, but never without his top hat. He took a delight in collecting five shilling pieces. Opposite the Chaffers' house in Chapel-street Holden Riley lived with his parents. His father was a mechanic, and his mother was the sister of John Taylor, who had the grocer's shop at the corner adjoining. Holden was a great friend and competitor of mine at the "old school." He was of a kindly, agreeable disposition. Whoever made the programme, he helped cheerfully to make a success of it. He became his uncle John Taylor's right-hand man, particularly when he took over Sutcliffe's wine and spirit business. He was hindered from taking an active part in affairs by an infirmity under which he cheerfully laboured for years. After Mr. Taylor's death, he carried on the business himself with credit, diligence, urbanity, and just pride. The house next door to John Taylor's shop in Yorkshire-street was occupied by John Wright Ashworth and his mother and sisters. He was head clerk at Buck's office, and was the secretary of the Literary Institute. He died very suddenly, just as we were arranging to

Have a Re-union
of Mr. Grant's old scholars. He was much missed, and the loss to his mother and sisters was irreparable. Dr. Buck, an eccentric doctor who had married one of the Miss Wrights, lived and had his surgery next door. He had a supplementary practice at Colne, journeying between the two surgeries in a small trap drawn by a mule. Crossing over to Basket-street, we see the mill run sixty years ago by James and Nathan Smallpage, whose brother Isaiah was then a druggist in the town. Bridge, the rope-maker, who had a place at Fulledge, by the river, and the Boys' family-one of whom, Dick, was landlord of the Yorkshire Hotel, and died there"lived in the two houses at the end of the mill, facing into Yorkshire-street. In Brown's Yard, just across the top end of Norton-street, lived Robert Brown, who owned the block round by Yorkshire-street and down into Pickup-street. He had lost his only daughter, and also his son-in-law, and had living with him Annis Dean, my sister's companion and friend for fifty years. She married John Butterfield, who, with his son Tom, carries on Phillips and Son's old stockbroker's business in Grimshawe-street. Robert Brown attended Wesley Chapel, and sang baritone in the choir. The other cottage in Brown's Yard was occupied by Howarth Hargreaves, a warper. He was the father of Henry Hargreaves, who for nearly sixty years was associated with Alexander Baldwin's office, and after him with Richard Proctor, who continued the law business, and who had married Mr. Baldwin's daughter. Henry married he daughter of Thomas Healey, of musical fame, from the house of her parents in Yorkshire-street. His son, Frederick Augustus, otherwise "Fred,"'is very well known through the profession he practises, and through the many official and honorary positions he occupies in the town. His name has lately been added to the list of County Magistrates. Tom West, the plumber, occupied the newer of the shops in Brown's block, and his heavy rolls of lead laid outside were a constant source of danger to pedestrians. Tom was another character. He sought no custom, and attended to work in his own way. His brother John had a grocer's shop through the Culvert. The older shop and house next to Tom West's was occupied by Robert Hartley as a grocery store. It was extensively patronised, as Robert kept the best stuff, and could sell for cash or on credit, if so desired. His shop was crowded with good things, and there was no time for Robert to stand on the step. There are many other names I ought to have mentioned in my Pickup Croft round, but there is not time. I must, however, allude to four important men whose names in their day were household words in the district, viz. :" Comfortable Jack Balderstone, of Miller-street, who did splendid joinery work; bright Billy Scott, the plumber of Norton-street; and his neighbours, grave Smithies, the local preacher, and "cheerio" Tom Alderson, "hail-fellow-well-met," with all genuine Pickup-Crofters.

Feb 13th 1917