When I left school, I worked in 'mill,

For two pounds ten a week.

Sweat and slaved from morn til night,

To keep me bobbins straight.

I started off in 'warehouse,

Sorting tubes and yarn.

Sweeping alleys, cleaning frames,

It didn't do me no harm.

I was such a tiny girl,

(I didn't grow a lot)

In me socks and clogs and overalls,

They called me 'Little Dot'.

One day when I grew older, and I could tie a knot,

I became a twister, no longer 'Little Dot'.

Hundreds of bobbins in my charge,

Twisting rayon into crepe,

Filling up the cones all night, and also all the day.

I changed them with a gadget, in case my hands got burned.

Never stopping, never stopping, day and night they turned,

I pieced a thousand knots a week,

To keep the yarn a-flowing.

And at the end of every day, tired feet were home a-going.

Ten minutes morning and afternoon, was our coffee break,

Just time to eat a butty, or a piece of cake.

One hour for dinner we could have, as long as we weren't late

To get back to our labours, and keep the frames all straight.

Talking was impossible, above the noise and din,

So we shouted to one another, with many a laugh and grin.

Mill girls are great girls, in spite of all the muck.

With turbans hiding curling pins,

They had a lot of pluck.

To work so hard and willing, in dirt and fluff and warmth.

Then give their wage to mother, without a second thought.

Mrs Dorothy Thornley

(nee Williams)

Redcar Road

Little Lever