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Nan Rice’s pub is still there in Francis Street! But this is a tale of the lady herself, long
gone, after whom it is named!
As well as a pub and
a farm, Nan Rice kept a local dairy. It
was said she could afford it for she was famously tight-fisted.
Anyway milk wasn’t delivered to the door then. You had to take your own can to the dairy and
get it filled.
My brother P J was sent one time. He returned soon after not just with the
milk, but with three eggs foreby.
‘’Nan Rice sent you these for tea,’ he says to mother.
Now my parents knew that Nan
would have skinned a flea for its coat. There was no way she was giving our P J three eggs for our tea! My father hauled him back to the dairy for an
explanation.
It turned out that while Nan
was in the back getting the milk, P J had nipped down the yard and relieved the
hens of three of their eggs.
‘We should have kept them!’ my mother angrily retorted
later.
‘The oul’ besom never even thanked you for your
honesty in bringing them back!’ |
Reminiscence 
