A Shropshire Whist Drive

As told by D.M. Davies in the Autumn 1963 edition of ‘The Countryman’

Having been invited to join a whist drive at a village hall in Welsh border country, DMD groped along dark and wet roads to get to this country happening. He was settled at a table among steaming limbs, and served a cup of tea by the local angels of the tea urn. There was some delay as the M.C. hadn’t turned up…it transpired that he had forgotten and gone to bed but he was dragged forcibly from the arms of Morpheus to do his duty with the handbell.

The games began and DMD was faced with the task of translating the not so discreet signs that were given off by the other players. But he was given a reprieve when the fire siren went off. Half of the men jumped up to attend a small blaze that had flared up in Mrs Jones’ oven. Those remaining were treated to not just more tea, but community singing too. Once the fire was extinguished, the whist drive continued. DMD was informed that he had in fact won a prize – what a bit of luck! He was handed a live cockerel, its head sticking out from the sack which had been tied firmly round its neck.

DMD was forced to walk home again along deserted and dark lanes, the cockerel under his arm. Wondering what on earth to do with it, he lit upon the idea of placing it in a neighbour’s hen shed. What a bit of luck for the cockerel!

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Woods Ware China at the Serving Hatch - The Book!

I have now put together a book to accompany this blog, featuring all the best bits and much more besides, about the development and use of village halls over the past century. It costs £1.29 for a Kindle download and £3.99 for a printed version. Here's the blurb: "Enter any village hall and look at the noticeboard. The range of activities taking place these days is enough to keep anyone entertained. Cinema evenings, keep fit classes, scouts, Women’s Institute, St John’s Ambulance, lunch clubs, support groups - all keeping the physical and spiritual on the straight and narrow. Where would we be without the village hall? What a marvellous innovation, and one that seems to grow in importance as we realise that we have lost sight of community somewhat, and need to nurse it back to life. You might, if you were in a particularly philosophical mood while hanging around the vestibule, wonder where and how it all began." English village halls have been a fixture of our lands

The Curious Case of the Whitminster Village Hall Thief

This article is copied from The Illustrated Police News, 14 February 1935: Judge Thanked "Thank you very much, sir, I've got off very light." Remarked John Moore, 76, when sentenced by Mr Justice Hawke at Gloucester Assizes to six months imprisonment on charges of breaking into Whitminster Village Hall and stealing articles valued at 4 shillings and 6 pence. There was a term of 344 days remaining of a previous sentence, and Moore was told that he would have to serve that time. P.S. (Police Sergeant) Howkins revealed that since 1904 Moore had been continually in and out of prison. Since that time he had been sentenced seven times to penal servitude, involving in all 23 years. In addition, he was in 1927 sentenced to four years imprisonment and had served further sentences most of them in respect of house breaking. Moore's last sentence was three year's penal servitude. Moore handed in a statement to the judge, beginning "I most respectfully wish t

Dixon of Fingers Green

In what could be the script from a gentle BBC comedy of the 60s or 70s, the village policeman triumphed at the horticultural show in a small Kent village. The local bobby walked away from the Village Hall with 11 out of 14 prizes. A cub reporter from the local rag dared to ask the green fingered P.C. if he talked to his blooms, to which the answer came: "No." He was encouraged to elaborate: "Talking to them, singing to them, music, that's all a lot of tripe. There's no substitute for hard work. You have to treat them like children, water them and care for them." I suppose he's right. There are similarities. Both flowers and children are prone to infestations of little creatures. And they never quite turn out how you expect, but sometimes you're lucky. Have a look at my novella for more vintage gardening fun

Woods Ware China at the Serving Hatch

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