Steam trains will also be operating on Wednesdays and Thursdays during the School Summer Holidays in July and August 2016. WYMONDHAM ABBEY HALT PHOTO ALBUM
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A PENNUTH O' COSHIES Three little lads went into Smithsons', the grocer's shop at the bottom of the Avenues in Sheringham, to spend their pocket money one day. "What kin Oi git yew, sonny?" Mr Smithson asked the first boy. Oi'll hev a pennyuth o' pepmints," was his reply. Gob-stoppers, liquorice allsorts, peppermints and other sweets were kept in a row of glass bottle, high on the top shelf behind the counter. Mr Smithson went to the back of the shop and returned with a step-ladder, which he climbed, then brought down the bottle of peppermints. After weighing them into a paper bag he gave to the boy, took the penny and took the steps into the back room again. Turning to the next boy, Mr Smithson asked: "An' what kin Oi git fur yew, moi boy?" "A pennuth o' pepmints," came the reply. Back went the grocer to get the step-ladder and then repeated the performance. But, this time, to save himself the trouble, he decided to ask the third lad whether he, too, wanted a pennyworth of peppermints. Once more he had to go through the same performance. But this time, before returning the stops to their place, he decided to ask the third boy whether he wanted a pennyworth of peppermints. "No," was the little lad's reply. So Mr Smithson took the steps away again, then returned to ask the boy what he wanted. "O'll hev a ha'puth!" he said. (Coshies: Norfolk dialect word for sweets!) * * * GOOD IDEA Many years ago, a vicar from Norwich was accompanying members of his church's Women's Fellowship on an outing to Burnham Thorpe, to show them the village where Admiral Horatio Nelson was born. To break their journey they stopped at a small village for morning coffee in the tea-shop, whereupon a local, seeing the charabanc of women and only one man, asked him: "What are yew a-gorn t'dew wi' orlthem thare women?" To which the vicar replied: "We are going to Burnham, my good man." "Gorn t'burn 'em, are yew?" laughed the countryman, "Jist yew hang on, ole partner – an' Oi'll go an' got moi ole woman!" * * * THE TIP An affluent-looking gent was getting off the train at Wroxham, looking forward to a boating holiday on the Broads. As he had quite a lot of luggage with him, he asked a porter to carry his bags to the boatyard nearby.
* * * A NOICE QUIET WEEK FOR JARGE AT LAST!
Jarge’s wife had died and John, an old friend, went round to offer his condolences. “Well, Jarge,” he said, “Oi’m suffen sad to hare yew lorst yar woife. What did she die of – Oi mean, what wuz har complearnt?” “Complearnt, bor?” Jarge replied, “The ol’ mawther is dead an’ ivryone’s satisfied. There ent no complearnt!” “When’s the funeral, Jarge?” “Nex' Mondy.” “Nex' Mondy?” asked John, “Yew ent a-keepin’ har a week are yer?” “Yis, John,” Jarge replied. “That Oi am; arter orl, when she wuz aloive she sear to me, she sear: 'Jarge, bor, when we’re married we’ll hev a noice quiet comf'table week tegither.’ Thass what she sear – an' I’re bin a-weartin’ nigh on 50 yare for ut!” “Was she insured?” asked John. “Oh ah, yis, she wuz,” Jarge replied, “wi' the Norwich Union anorl!” “Norwich Union?” queried John, “but, dornt they dew fire insurance?” “Yis,” laughed Jarge, “she knew where she wuz a-gorn’ orrite!”
“Oh, we’re playin’ at confarmation, yar worship," said one boy, "an' these hare mud pois are the boys and gals woss being’ confarmed.” To this, the right reverend man of the cloth replied: “But I cannot see the bishop – where is he?” The grubby little boy scratched his head, thought for a moment, then replied: “Well, you see, sar, that tearke a rare ol' sight of muck to mearke a bishop, that that dew!” * * * WELL, OI BE DAWG GORN! Old Elijah Rowbottom used to live with a dog, he called Flash, in a caravan on the edge of Gissing green. One day, the local policeman, upon seeing the dog tethered next to the caravan, asked Elijah if he had a dog licence. "No, that Oi hent," Elijah replied, "I hent gotta licence corse Oi hent got no money to buy one." "Well, my good man," the constable continued, taking his notebook out of his top pocket, "I'm afraid you'll have to get one. That's the law, I'm afraid." The very next day, Elijah went to see the constable at his police house and thrust a piece of paper in front of him. "There yar," he said, pointing to the dog licence, "now Oi spooz yer happy!" "But, you told me yesterday you had no money," replied the policeman. "So where did you get the money to buy the licence?" "Oi sold me dawg," replied Elijah. * * *
* * * ROOTS OF HOSPITALITY Many years ago, in a small Norfolk village, there lived a lonely old mawther who was a member of the local Methodist church. When visiting preachers arrived in her village, she had never been asked to entertain them – and she felt it deeply. Then, one day, she was over the moon when the long-awaited privilege came her way. That year, it had come to pass that, in her garden, she had a fine root of rhubarb and she decided to prepare rhubarb pie for dinner, a tart for tea and stewed rhubarb for supper. When the day's services and meals were over, the visiting minister thanked her warmly. "An', Oi hatta say," he told the old lady, "how werry much Oi hev enjoyed yar 'ospitality..." "Why, bless you, sir," she replied, then, much to his surprise, " that woont 'ospitality – that wuz roobub!" Dew yew tearke care, tergether!
Yares ago, we even climbed up the cliffs at Beeston Bump frum the beach one day. Blust me, when moi mother got t'hare onnit she wuz suffin' savage. Oi spooz that wuz moi mucky knees what gev me away! An' the holes in moi trousers a-corse. Mother gev me a clip a the lug – an' that hoolly smart, that did. But thass another tearle, ent ut?
Dew yew tearke care, tergether!
The Mid-Norfolk Railway runs nearby, though not serving the village, and the closest station is Kimberley Park, at Kimberley, on the Watton Road. This morning I returned to Crownthorpe, to take some more photos. You may notice a different motorcycle to yesterday's – another Honda – although I also have a British motorbike which I hope to use again soon! For anyone interested in windmills, the one shown in the photos was taken across the fields at Wicklewood, the next small village. A CROWNTHORPE ALBUM
BLUEBELL PHOTO ALBUM THE BLUEBELL BY EMILY BRONTE
Researching further, I note that in the late Peter Brooks' book, Sheringham, Twixt Sea and Pine, he refers to 'the second Beeston Bump'. Also, in Sheringham & District by the Sheringham Museum Trust there are a couple of references to 'the second bump of Beeston Hill'.
In Face to Face, Sheringham, the story of the two local photographers, Olive Edis and Cyril Nunn, Beeston Hill is referred to as 'Beeston Bump'. So, unless anyone knows different, we Shannocks (natives of Sheringham) may continue to refer to Beeston Hill as we have always done – whether it be a bump or a hump. As for me, however, I shall always have loving memories (!) of it as Beeston Bump. In Norfolk, it is said, we 'dew diffrunt' – but in Sheringham we do doubly different, it seems!
WYMONDHAM MARKET PLACE – A PHOTOGRAPHIC ALBUM Photos by the Boy Albie |
Boy Albie
Norfolk born and bred. Archives
August 2020
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