Two of the women had children in their arms. After I had
listened to them a little while, thinking the time and the words a
little appropriate to their condition, I beckoned to one of the
young men, who came "sidling" slowly up to me. I asked him where
they came from, and he said, "Ash'n." In answer to another question,
he said, "We're o' one family. Me an' yon tother's wed. That's his
wife wi' th' chylt in her arms, an' hur wi' th' plod shawl on's
mine." I asked if the old man was his father. "Ay," replied he,
"we're o' here, nobbut two. My mother's ill i' bed, an' one o' my
sisters is lookin' after her." " Well, an' heaw han yo getten on?"
said I. "Oh, we'n done weel; but we's come no moor," replied he.
Another day, there was an instrumental band of these operatives
playing sacred music close to the Exchange lamp. Amongst the crowd
around, I met with a friend of mine. He told me that the players
were from Staleybridge. They played some fine old tunes, by desire,
and, among the rest, they played one called "Warrington. "When they
had played it several times over, my friend turned to me and said,
"That tune was composed by a Rev.
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