On a Sunday, people would stroll through the town meeting friends while they were in their best clothes. One day, some hard boys were taunting the well dressed and one of them on the bridge flicked my great grandad’s tie out of his waistcoat. This was a mistake. Great grandad, a blacksmith, was a very powerful man; short but wide. He hefted this lad off the street and held him over the river. He said “you apologise to my missus for the disturbance”.
“Sorry Missus, sorry donie drap me!”