As I wur goin down Threakle Street,-- recalled by Susan Gray Young (née Barnett), born in Bolton on 1st Feb 1914, died in Bury on 30th August 2008.
To gerra pound o' treacle.
Who does think I met?
Why, none other than me owd pal Mickey Thump.
He sed, "Is tha goin' t' wakes t'neet?"
Well, I thout a bit,
An' I thout a bit,
An' I sed, "I d'n' mind."
So I went.
Eee, an' it wur a grand wakes,
It wur a grand wakes!
Well, six a clock cum,
And seven a clock cum,
And eight a clock cum.
But no Mickey Thump cum.
So I went whom.
Well, I'd' n' sooner getten me neet shirt on
Wen there wur a reet bangin' at frunt dwur
It wur Mickey's sister, an' she sed
Mickey wur ill, an' wud I cum t' see im.
Well, I thout a bit,
An' I thout a bit,
An' I sed, "I d'n' mind."
So I went.
Eee an' he wur ill,
Eee he wur reet ill.
He looked at me an' sed,
"If I dee, will tha cum t' me funeral?"
Well, I thout a bit,
An' I thout a bit,
An' I sed, "I d'n' mind."
So I went.
An' it wur a funeral,
It wur a grand funeral,
Thur wur sum what laff'd o'er his grave
And sum wot danced o'er his grave,
But I scriked me eyes out o'er grave
Of me owd pal Mickey Thump.
* In many of the mill towns of Lancashire the entire town closed down for two weeks' holiday each year. It was common practice for a traveling fair to come to the town for one of these weeks. This annual holiday was called the wakes, wakes being a corruption of away weeks, as many families went away on holiday for one of the two weeks. As the fair came to town on these same weeks, they became synonymous with the wakes week and were often also known as the wakes.As I was going down Treacle Street,
To get a pound of treacle.
Who do you think I met?
Why, none other than my old pal Mickey Thump.
He said, "Are you going to the wakes* tonight?"
Well, I thought a bit,
And I thought a bit,
And I said, "I don't mind."
So I went.
Eee, and it was a grand wakes,
It was a grand wakes!
Well, six o'clock came,
And seven o'clock came,
And eight o'clock came,
But no Mickey Thump came.
So I went home.
Well, I'd no sooner got my nightshirt on
When there was a right banging at front door
It was Mickey's sister, and she said
Mickey was ill, and would I come to see him.
Well, I thought a bit,
And I thought a bit,
And I said, "I don't mind."
So I went.
Eee and he was ill,
Eee he was right ill.
He looked at me and said,
"If I die, will you come to my funeral?"
Well, I thought a bit,
And I thought a bit,
And I said, "I don't mind."
So I went.
And it was a funeral,
It was a grand funeral,
There were some who laughed over his grave
And some who danced over his grave,
But I cried my eyes out over the grave
Of my old pal Mickey Thump.