I have been giv’n proof of my recovered nature.
Tommy Morton, tinker, in his old age and pauperism has placed five pounds in my hands for his funeral.
On his death I will transport his remains to Monk Bretton, to the Friends burial ground, where he may rejoin his wife, That is his wish and I shall grant it.
It is said a fellow once brought Tommy sixpence to mend. It being neatly and expeditiously executed the fellow asked
How much is it to be?
Sevenpence Tommy replied.
Sevenpence. That is more than the sixpence is worth!
Exactly so, but that is no reason why I should depreciate the value of my labour.
The fellow duly paid and Tommy aware that the fellow was not entirely satisfied offered him a can of flip from the local mughouse.
Tommy occupied the middle shop at the bottom of Market Hill along with a smithy and a barbershop, all by the side of Sough Dyke that flows through the town, and o’er which Sough Bridge bends. His original premises, being considered an obstruction and an eyesore, having fallen into decay and not being able to hold another house Tommy domiciliated himself in the Jury Room of the old Moot Hall, atop Market Hill, where he remained until he was half starved, and whence he was removed to the workhouse. His premises were demolished to improve the topography of the town. I will do all I am able to help him out.