posed to be used on the occasion of a member
of the club being found guilty of ill-treating his wife. The cradle was
made by a practical wag, known as Billy Bradley, who attended to it every
Show Day. When there was a clean sheet of actual offenders, Bradley
contented himself with "rocking" men who volunteered just for the fun of
the thing. Finish was imparted to the performance by a fiddler, named
Smith Keighley, playing "Rock'd in the cradle of the deep" during the
operation. Many were the visitors who came to see the stirrings in this
corner of the town. I remember the late Mr John Sugden, of Eastwood
House, coming up in his carriage to see the fun and frolic, which were
practically the sole objects of the Henpecked Club. On one occasion there
was exhibited a picture, almost as large as a stage scene, representing a
trial in the Henpecked Club,--a wife charging her spouse, before the
President, with neglect of family duty. The counts of the charge were
supposed to be--refusing to wash-up, black-lead, clean his wife's boots,
put the clothes-line out, and last, but not least, refusing to take his
wife her breakfast upstairs. I recollect one remarkable and unrehearsed
incident which happened in connection with the club on one Show Day. A
man of the name of Shackleton had joined the club, and his wife was so
disgusted that she was almost "wild." Before the scores of people who had
assembled she protested "Ahr Jack isn't henpecked, an' ah weant hev him
henpecked." It was, she said, just the opposite--she who had been
henpecked. Just as Mrs S. was concluding her harangue a waggonette drove
up, and all the members of the club got into it in readiness for a drive
round the town "for the benefit of the Order," as one of them amusingly
put it. This Shackleton was among those who entered the conveyance, but
no sooner had he taken his seat than his wife went up to him and seized
him firmly by the hair of the head, exclaiming, "Come aat, er Ah'll let
'em see whether tha's henpecked er no." She stuck to her spouse with such
a tight fondness that he was soon obliged to come out of the waggonette.
Shackleton took the incident quite good humouredly, and seemed to enjoy
the mirth-provoking situation with as much zest as the crowd of people
who were standing by. And this was a sample of the carryings-on in the
days of the old Keighley Show. But, alas! there came a day of trouble to
the people. In the period preceding one year's show an ep