Friday, 13 April 2012

Unlucky Bag

It has been 13 years this month since we started collecting stories locally, and here, is the very first story that was told to us, in Port Glasgow Library on a rather nice spring morning and originally printed in Clann Abhainn Cluaidh...

"So there was my gran, and there was Margaret, and this other girl J___, but remember her family still lives round here mind. That was the gang, must have been Victorian times this was. Every Saturday they'd go to the tally and get a lucky bag wi' their pocker money. Only this week, my Gran and Margaret decided on this wee thing called 'John Brown's Body' instead...a wee chocolate coffin wi a wee sweetie skeleton in it. Strange wee thing, but no stranger than what the weans eat nowadays.
That night, poor wee J___ dies in her sleep. Poison, the doctor says. Well, here mammy's goin spare, thinks it's these lucky bag sweeties whit killed her, seeing as my gran and her pal were both alright, see? So she kicks up a fuss, and eventually they perform a post-mortem - send the lassies stomach off to get examined. Long story short...her mammy wis right. Poisoned by the sweeties in her lucky bag...mercury or something. Something like that happened today, there would be a right outcry. Don't you think?"

Friday 13th of course also has its Knights Templar connections, as does our local area, enough indeed to apparently inspire a Nazi treasure hunter to visit the Clyde...

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