One sed it mud tak place at rush-buren, another sed next muck-spreadin’ toime, a third sed it mud be dug et gert wind day it memmery o’ oud Jack K--- Well, noan et proposishuns wud do fur the lot, and there wur such opposishun wal it omust hung on a thre’ad whether th’ railway went on or net, wal at last an oud farmer, one o’th’ committee men, wi’ a voice as hoarse as a farm yard dog, bawls aat, “I propoase Pancake Tuesday.” So after a little more noise it wur propoased an’ seconded et Grand Trunk Railway between th’ respective taans of Keighla an’ Haworth sud be commemorated wi’ diggin’ th’ furst sod ’o Pancake Tuesday i’th’ year o’ our Lord 1864; an’ bi th’ show o’ hands i’th’ usual way it wur carried bi one, and that wur Ginger Jabus, an’ th’ tother cud a liked to a bowt him ower, but Jabus wornt to be bowt that time, for he hed his heart an’ sowl i’th’ muvment, an he went abaat singing— Come all ye lads o’ high renown ’At wishes well your native town, Rowl up an’ put your money down And let us hev a Railway. Wi’ Keighla foak we are behind, An’s hed to wauk agin wur mind; But soin th’ crookt-legg’d ens thay will find We’ll keep em wi’ a Railway. Well, hasumever, public notice wur made nawn, bi th’ bellman crying it all ower th’ tawn, which he did to such a pitch wal he’d summat to do to keep his hat fra flying off, but he managed to do it at last to a nicety, for th’ news spread like sparks aat of a bakehouse chimla; an’ wen th’ day come they flockt in fra all parts, sum o’th crookt-legg’d ens fra Keighla com, Lockertown and th’ Owertown foak com, and oud bachelors fra Stanbury and all parts at continent o’ Haworth; foak craaded in on all sides, even th’ oud men an’ wimen fra Wicken Crag an’ th’ Flappeters, an’ strappin’ foak they are yo mind, sum as fat as pigs, wi’ heeads as red as carrits, an’ nimble as a india-rubber bouncer taw; an’ wat wur th’ best on’t it happened to be a fine day; or if it hed been made accordin’ to orders it cudent a been finer. Shops wur all closed, an’ everybody, oud an’ young hed a haliday aat o’th’ doors, for they were all flade o’ missin’ th’ Grand Proceshun, which formed itseln at th’ top o’ Wuthren, when it wur messured it turned aat to be two miles six inches long—it moved as follows:— ORDER O’TH’ PROCESHUN. Th’ Spring heead Band wi’ thair hat bruads turned up so as they mud se thair way clear, Lord o’th’ Manor i’ full uniform a fut back bearin’ th’ Coat of Arms for Haworth a gert wild cratur wi’ two tails on, one o’ th’ authur end. Th’ Members o’th’ Corporashun one abreast, singin’ “a nuttin’ we will go, brave boys.” Big Drums an’ Triangles. A Mahogany Wheelbarro’ an’ a silver spade on a cart trail’d bi six donkeys, an’ garded bi ten lazy policemen _all sober_. A pair o’ crakt bag-pipes.