Personalized An Old Jack Lovely Jenny Live Here Donkey Doormat



Personalized An Old Jack Lovely Jenny Live Here Donkey Doormat

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Ascending to the top of Hounsfield Road, a pointsman would leave his small wooden shelter having noted from a window the approaching tramcar’s indicator of its destination, being either Walkley or Crookes.

He placed an iron lever firmly into the lines points. With a jerk he would send it on its way.

In fine weather the pointsman had a pleasant outdoor job but in wind, rain or snow, wearing his waterproof cape and hat, he must have cursed every tramcar coming into view.

Continuing along the flat Crookes Valley Road, passengers looked to the left, seeing gentlemen playing their leisurely, peaceful game of bowls.

In the background a fountain of cascading water sprayed out of a large white bowl into the Dam Reservoir.

Looking to the right, and over Crookesmoor recreation tip and Upperthorpe, Parkwood Springs could be seen in the distance.

The white steam coming from the funnel of an express train, having travelled from Manchester, and passing through the suburb of Neepsend nearing its journey’s end at Victoria Station.

The excitement of the tramcar’s journey was about to begin as it was driven into a left ‘S’, and then right bend. The passengers clinging to the brass rail encircling the bay window. Personalized An Old Jack Lovely Jenny Live Here Donkey Doormat

Climbing Barber Road, it rounded another curve before reaching the ‘hump’ stop at the top.

One minute you were gazing at the sky, the next minute you were looking at the ground.

Still getting your breath back, the driver was away down into Commonside ‘dip’, then swaying around a right-hand bend into a left-hand bend to reach the stop at the top of Howard Hill.

With a whirr of its electric motors, and the driver clanging the footbell, the amiable 10-ton giant hurtled down Howard Road at a full speed of 25mph into South Road, where the tramlines were almost on the pavement, and then the smooth flat run into the Walkley terminus.

For one penny (pre-decimal currency) you had experienced a more exciting ride than any fairground big dipper’could give you.

The nostalgic memory of those reliable and friendly Titans will never fade.

I was desperate, I went into the City Reference Library, that institute of knowledge. A reservoir of information.

The neatly-stacked volumes beckoned me. The encyclopaedias. The dictionaries. Who’s Who and What’s What.

I eagerly scanned their multitude of pages. It was all there, but not what I craved to know. I despondently made my way to the information desk.

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