A TRAMP INTO LANCASHIRE
After a short stay in Keighley, my roving nature again asserted itself, and I set off on a tramping expedition, with two companions, in to Lancashire. Going over The Moss we were overtaken by a severe thunderstorm, and were soon drenched to the skin by the torrential fall of rain. We made some attempt to dry our clothes at the Monkroyd Tavern, a hostelry immortalised by the Lancashire poets, and then pushed on to Colne, where we were accommodated at the club-house until morning, when I made my way to Burnley. It was there I fell in with my old friend Dave Hey. I obtained a situation in Burnley at a sizing establishment occupied by Mr Alfred Lee, and retained it for seven weeks, by which time I had got thoroughly disgusted with Lancashire life. The people I came across seemed to me to be about forty years behind Keighley folk in many particulars, but especially in regard to dress and general mode of living. So that when I got back to Keighley I resolved in my mind that I would not stir out of the town again.