The photos above and the following poem are reproduced here with kind permission from Harry's son Roy Beddington.-

The Mon in White

Owld Jarge and I went out ver 'ood
Across the rocks by Abbot's 'ood.

'Twere gettin' on ver openin' time
When we come by thic owld iron mine.

We squat us down ta 'ave a pipe
And I rached out ta give Jarge a light.

Now, Jarge 'im is a clumsy zaul
'Im dropped my lighter down thic 'ole.

We clambered down and vetched un up
Twenty-vive steps, and that's a yup.

And then it started on ta pour
Zo we went down thic 'ole once more

Now, in thic cave, zo dark and black
Zummut screamed, right at our back.

Jarge grapped at I, I grapped at 'im
Our bwuns rattled in ev'ry limb.

At the back of thic cave stood a Mon in white
Zurry, 'im did give us a fright.

'Im stepped right out vram thic stwun wall
And Jarge let out an awful bawl.

'Im went up them steps like 'im ould bust
And I went a'ter'n, and got there vust.

Owld Jarge, 'im zed im'd bust 'is knee
Thou mind, I didn't stop ta zee.

We legged it on a goodish bit
Then Jarge began ta drag 'is vit

'Im gasped out, "Zurry, I be done"
And then 'im zaw thic mon agyun.

Thou mind, 'im zoon vergot 'is bust
Thou coustn't zee 'is tail ver dust.

Right up ta 'is front door 'im vled
And 'id all night beneath the bed.

'Im 'ad ta tell I this next marn
'Cos I was wum 'alf hour bevore'n

Now : If thouse ever want a fight
Thou exe Jarge 'bout thic Mon in White

Harry Beddington