In comes I a jolly old man
Just the mollygrubs, you were lucky, I had the pits, pox, palsy and the gout, pains within and pains without (pains without what?)

Stockport PE had a connection with Gorton called Ian O'Toole who had become the keeper of the tradition. The Pace Eggers were seen once a year unless you went to more than one pub that night. A few of the pubs were shall we say dodgy, but we made it out alive and finished at Poynton. How I drove home is a mystery to me yet, I was over the limit after the first pub.
The Alti StGeoerges night was very much a Bollin morris connection, again, once a year.
A friend of my then other half passed on a set of Mummers costumes she picked up at a clearance in Cheshire. She described the place but couldn't remember where it was. Detective Duncan worked it out and amazingly obtained a copy of a previously unknown mummers play. A burst pipe destroyed most of the costumes sadly but I passed on a waistcoat from the kit. I have no idea what happened to the play or the weskit.
Wassail
Bill