A Ribblehead Romance
By Eric of Braithwaite 2010
You'll have heard of that wild country railway
Goes from Settle right up to Carlisle.
Past Pendragon Castle and Mallerstang,
Where there's Curlews and bogs by the mile.
In a place not a long stride from Garsdale
Where the station sits stark on the fell,
Lived a young lad - Montgomery Theakston
Who carried a candle for Nell.
Now Nell was his true love and sweetheart,
Who he'd treasured since Junior Three.
Fell in love over crates in the corner,
When school milk, in bottles, came free.
But Nell lived at Ribblehead Viaduct
Her dad was a signalman, see,
Who had long gangly arms from his levers,
And lived on baked beans and cold tea.
To court her Montgomery Theakston,
Had to visit his true love by train,
Going out on the seventeen twenty each night,
And back so it seemed, on the same.
One night as he travelled back counting the stars,
With the guard he was having a crack.
They talked about landslides, the price of good coal,
And the leaves that fell on the track.
"They're changing the stops on this railway, you know"
Said the guard with a tear in his eye.
"And the station at Ribblehead's closing lad
As of Friday, all t' trains will pass by.'
By Eric of Braithwaite 2010
You'll have heard of that wild country railway
Goes from Settle right up to Carlisle.
Past Pendragon Castle and Mallerstang,
Where there's Curlews and bogs by the mile.
In a place not a long stride from Garsdale
Where the station sits stark on the fell,
Lived a young lad - Montgomery Theakston
Who carried a candle for Nell.
Now Nell was his true love and sweetheart,
Who he'd treasured since Junior Three.
Fell in love over crates in the corner,
When school milk, in bottles, came free.
But Nell lived at Ribblehead Viaduct
Her dad was a signalman, see,
Who had long gangly arms from his levers,
And lived on baked beans and cold tea.
To court her Montgomery Theakston,
Had to visit his true love by train,
Going out on the seventeen twenty each night,
And back so it seemed, on the same.
One night as he travelled back counting the stars,
With the guard he was having a crack.
They talked about landslides, the price of good coal,
And the leaves that fell on the track.
"They're changing the stops on this railway, you know"
Said the guard with a tear in his eye.
"And the station at Ribblehead's closing lad
As of Friday, all t' trains will pass by.'
'They cannot do this to us, and what about Nell?",
Said young Theakston, his eyes all aflame.
"Its a long road from Garsdale to Ribblehead,
And there's more time for cuddling, by train."
Montgomery Theakston, that night in his bed
Lay troubled, his face lost in frown,
Till at daybreak a solution came into his head,
If trains will not stop, they'll slow down!
On the Friday his plan to the driver he put,
Making much of his love for the lass,
The driver agreed and tomorrow arranged.
He 'd slow down, as the station he passed.
Approaching the viaduct, Saturday night,
Young Theakstons’ heart was a flutter.
If the plan worked then fine, he'd be kissing by nine,
If it failed, he'd be branded a nutter.
Leaning out from the cab as the platform approached
Holding on with one hand to a door,
Montgomery Theakston was running to Nell,
His feet all a blur, on the floor.
As the train lost momentum, he let go the door,
As true loves arms beckoned, slowed down,
When hands on his collar pulled him back on the run,
And a voice in his ear, made him frown.
"Eee Lad, that were close”, as the Guard pulled him in,
And the train gathered speed from the station,
"Good job I caught you or you'd have been left,
On the platform, in rage and frustration."
"Don't mention frustration", cried Theakston, enraged,
His face so scarlet, it shone.
"I've come through from Garsdale, you whistle brained fool,
I'm trying to get off, and not on!"
© Eric Hope 2010