Mexborough & Swinton Times – Friday 29 June 1883
Mexboro’ Feast
The proceedings at Mexboro’ on Monday were very interesting. People were parading the streets in crowds; the amusements were in full swing; and music of all kinds, from the excellent selection played by the Wath Volunteer Band to the unearthly tones forced out by the band attached to the local branch of the Salvation Army, was being discoursed in all directions, and last, but not least, the sturdy miners of Denaby Main, in their holiday attire, walked through the streets in procession for the purpose of reminding the Mexbroites that “Unity is strength.”
There was no lack of witty sayings among the men in the procession, and those who wish to enjoy a good hearty laugh should cultivate the acquaintance of some of the Irishmen employed at Denaby. I will digress for a moment from my subject while I detail a “yarn” between Pat and his companions as the procession wended its way through the streets. Of course Pat had the whole of the palaver to himself. The conversation happened to turn on the reasons why the humble and much-maligned quadruped, the donkey, was possessed of such an unmelodious voice and such unwieldy ears. Here Pat was at home, and he detailed the facts of the case, which I will give in his own words as nearly as I can remember them:—
“You must know, Jack, that Noah had three hundred years’ notice to build the ark, an’ that he had to get into the vessel a male an’ female of ivry kind. There was Noah an’ his wife, an’ Noah’s sons an’ their wives, an’ the whole of the bastes and their wives, barrin’, ov coorse, the donkey, which was the stoopidest of all the bastes. Well, he couldn’t be made to understand that the wather was coming until it began to fall. It soon rose to his belly, and then the poor baste called out, ‘Oh, Noah!’ ‘Oh, Noah!’ ‘Oh, Noah!’ as loud as he could. Wid that Noah looked over the side of the ship an’ caught hold of the baste’s ears and drew him on deck, an’ that’s the raison that donkeys has such big lugs, for it’s the Christian as has the ears and the donkey the legs. Well, ever since the donkey was shut out of the ark he has never ceased to shout ‘O Noah!’”
With such conversation as this was going on it is to be wondered at that the miners enjoyed themselves, as only miners and schoolboys can enjoy themselves when a day’s holiday is obtained.
The next sight to be witnessed was the presentation of colours to the Mexboro’ corps of the Salvation Army. The advocates of “blood and fire” of course mustered strongly, and peppered his Satanic Majesty, I learn, so much that he has taken his departure to the Antipodes for some months to revive his drooping spirits.
The procession was one of the most laughable ever witnessed. A gaunt female, dressed in black, described all kinds of evolutions in front of the band, from a graceful pirouette to an ignoble stumble. An old gentleman, who could not have numbered far short of seventy winters, was showing his great zeal for his cause by waltzing at the head of the procession to the tune of “When Johnny comes marching home.” The band, too, were characterized by the uniformity of the tunics they wore and the non-uniformity of their nether garments, some of which were of an indescribable cut.
The noise opposite the Montagu Arms Hotel when the two bands of the Army made their appearance baffles description. The musicians were playing at sixes and sevens instead of in common time, the noise made by the tambourines of the females reminding the beholder somewhat of the instrument known as “jingling Johnny,” carried in some of Her Majesty’s line bands, while loudly and clearly above all rang out the shrill whistle of the steam engine attached to what was termed in high-flown language “the steam hippodrome.”
The bands discoursed quite different tunes and displayed an individuality and independence worthy of the tremendous battle in which they were about to engage, and after a “knee drill,” and, I should say, a “muffin struggle,” the enemy was fairly routed. If he had possessed any place in their anatomy the enormous stores of provisions laid upon him in the space of a few minutes would have fairly routed him and driven him from his citadel.
The Mexboro’ Cricket Club were determined not to be behind-hand in the provision of amusements for the public, and in the earlier part of the day large numbers attended the ground for the purpose of witnessing the match between Mexboro’ and Hemsworth, in which the former proved the victors. An excellent band had been provided, and those who cared for musical selections of a high order had their wishes gratified.
All went well until about five o’clock, when a hurried stampede was made from the field, the rain descending in torrents. The pleasure fair was all but deserted and in every direction people were hurrying and scurrying out of the wet.
It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good, however, and so, I presume, thought the promoters of the dancing arrangements at Waddington’s Assembly Rooms, where, for a few hours on each evening of the feast, the votaries of the “light fantastic toe” highly amused themselves.
On Tuesday the match between Mexboro’ and the Nether Hallam Rangers was played, but proved a failure, financially, on account of the heavy showers of rain which fell at intervals throughout the day.
The number of people at the fair was greater, however, during the evening than on the previous day. At the time of writing (Wednesday) the rain is still falling, and I very much fear that the Mexboro’ Cricket Club will lose by their venture.