ALAN WHALLEY'S WORLD

ANSWERS a-plenty to a series of fascinating yedscratters that have been dotted around this creaky column over the past few weeks.

I learn that Ken Dodd, the nut from Knotty Ash, was once a Sally White bleach delivery man around the district. And I've received convincing explanations on a piece of side-street cricket terminology and on the origins of two well-separated watery stretches in the borough.

First out of the starting blocks was Kevin Heneghan of North Road, St Helens, responding to a poser (June 12) revolving around bygone boyhood times when kerbside cricket was all the rage.

This was played with makeshift bat and worn tennis ball against a wicket chalked on a terraced gable-end.

The brain-teaser, set by arm-benders on the snug side of the Carr Mill Hotel, was: "When a ball was skied out of bounds, over someone's backyard wall, it was said to be 'petered' - and the batsman was declared out. How did that term come about?"

Kevin's explanation is a persuasive one. He says: "I suspect that this is a short form of petered out - a term first used in 1846 in American mining camps when a vein of ore gradually failed.

"It was later applied to anything which gradually came to an end - and that, you will recall, was how many games ended . . . when the ball was 'petered', perhaps into a tall tree.

"When attempts at recovery failed, the kids lost interest and wandered off to do something else."

Kevin was one of a number of readers who responded to a Parr octogenarian who asked if anyone knew how a small flash of water at Parr became known as The Vanny.

Others who were on the ball with explanations included Arthur Knowles of Parr Grove, Haydock, John Pennington of Wythburn Crescent, Clinkham Wood, and Bernard Murphy of Glover Street.

"The Vanny," says Kevin, "was the local name for the Havannah Colliery (Parr No.1 and No.2 pits) which stood near the canal, close to Southport Colliery (Parr Nos. 4 and 5 pits). Parr No.3 was a pumping pit close to the Vanny. "An old collier I once knew, and who had worked in both pits, always preferred The Vanny, which he said was the happier one to work in," adds Kevin, who points out that a photograph of The Vanny appears in the publication, 'Mining Memories', by local industrial authors Geoff Simm and Ian Winstanley.

Another who rings the praises of the Havannah Colliery, Arthur Knowles (61) writes: "In its day, it was one of the good producers of 'black gold', until it flooded, along with Southport Colliery, making further coal extraction not only pricey but dangerous."

Declaring himself a fan of my "great column" (nice compliment) Arthur signs-off rather cryptically: "Wonder if you ever fed my donkey with carrots in passing down Old Whint ? Most kids did."

Well, I've faint boyhood recollections of a donkey down that Haydock country lane. How about refreshing my memory with some extra details, Arthur, lad?

John Pennington and Bernard Murphy both confirm the 'Vanny' slangword, the latter also picking-up on an earlier watery theme.

Says Bernard: "The Mile Pit in Tickle Street, Parr, I always suspected was a marl pit in the days before industrialisation."

Marl, according to my dictionary, is a mixture of clay and lime, excavated for use as manure.

"On your Sally White bleach theme," adds Bernard, "Ken Dodd was a delivery man for that firm."

Giving away the old tricks of the trade, local history buff Bernard rounds off: "Many companies existed in a small way as household bleach sellers. All they did was buy sodium hypochloride from the ICI at high strength, add water and bottle the resultant weak bleach."

I NEVER fail to be amazed by the depth of knowledge of customers of this column. But there's still one little matter which puzzles me. How come a pit at Parr came by the name of Havannah? After all, the two places are poles apart.

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.