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reputation of being the best company man in Burnley. His 

 Brother, Dr. Samnel Haworth, Hved next, and the block was 

 closed by places in the occupation of the Holgate family. The 

 end house was their dwelling-house, and the memory of their 

 bank and then' wine and spirit stores still remains. Besides 

 conducting these enterprises the Holgates had a woollen 

 manufactory, and were, indeed, the principal business people in 

 Burnley. Our travellers now turned back, passed along St. 

 James's Street, Blucher Street (now merged into St. James's 

 Street) into Church Street. Henry Langfield carried on business 

 here as a grocer and tea-dealer, and on the opposite side, near 

 the Boot, was the Post Office. 



The houses which jutted out into the road — you remember 

 them well, Mrs. Higgin, saddler, was the occupant of the corner 

 one — were in 1818 private houses. 



A little beyond — in Blucher Street — were the premises of Brown 

 Fletcher, plumber and glazier. 



The White House at the foot of Yorkshire Street was at one 

 time the curate's residence, and from there for a considerable 

 distance a low wall skirted the river. The sight of the sweet 

 smiling river was pleasant to the eyes of the two, who were ac- 

 customed to see their river in Manchester of quite another hue. 

 Trees grew at the sides of the Brun, and fish could be caught in 

 it. The house occupied by Mr. Grimshaw was a great house 

 then, occupied by Mr. William and Miss Ellen Greenwood. It 

 was known as Well Hall House. 



Wearing the Church was passed the Nelson Hotel now known as 

 the White Hart, kept by a man named Heap, who had been a re- 

 cruiting sergeant — then a hue of thatched cottages bordering the 

 churchyard and the site of the present schools. The churchyard 

 was entered by a covered wooden gateway. There were seats in 

 the gateway — the lych-gate— the gate of the dead, in which the 

 mourners sat awaiting the arrival of the minister. 



The visitors here saw a funeral which had come in from Brier- 



cliflfe, and they had alighted upon a young man whose name was 



Ciegg — Henry Clegg. He remained with our friends for the space 



■ half-an-hour, tellmg them about the church and its devoted 



minister, and describing the lives of the inhabitants of the village. 



Henry led the way past the house near the church known as 

 the " Lobby " — a house built really in fiats and let off to lodgers, 

 and the old hearse-house, over the narrow bridge up School Lane, 

 to the front of the Grammar School, when he left them, going 

 up Colne Eoad to his home. 



On the afternoon of Easter Day, this year, 1887, 1 myself stood 

 by Henry Clegg's dying couch. As everyone knows, he had for 

 half a century been the parish clerk of Burnley, and until within 

 a very few days of his death his memory was absolutely untouched 



