HE was waiting at the bar of the Golden Lion in Settle when I arrived, shuffling through an enormous pile of newspapers, writes John Sheard. They included the Daily Telegraph, Private Eye ... and The Church Times.

Such a disparate range of reading matter could best be described as "eclectic". But, then, Peter Michael Thornber, poet, businessman, antiquarian book seller, rare breed sheep expert and Settle town councillor, is an eclectic sort of person.

He is, undoubtedly, a 22-carat character. When I asked if he would object to being described as an eccentric, he replied with a gleam in his eye: "I'll get back to you on that one when I've consulted my solicitor."

So for reasons which will become apparent later, I shall refrain from such a description. But even printing his name in full reveals something about his character.

"Don't take the Michael out," he said mischievously, "because taking the Michael is something to which I am rather partial."

Then he added ruefully: "The trouble, a lot of people don't understand when I am taking the mickey. And sometimes, when I am being serious, they think I am taking the mickey, which is even worse."

In this Peter, 49-year-old scion of a well-known Dales Liberal family, can from time to time be hoisted by his own petard. He peppers his conversation with obscure, even arcane, anecdotes.

Although an Anglican, he has a formidable knowledge of the Roman Catholic church - he even reviews books for the Catholic literary magazine, The Tablet.

So there is little wonder that, when mingling with down-to-earth Dales farmers at various auction marts, of which he is a substantial share-holder, his remarks can on occasion be misconstrued.

This, happen, is because he comes from a family whose history is in itself full of apparent contradictions, a family which could well have come from the pages of one of the great Victorian novelists.

The saga started at the turn of the century, when one William Walter Thornber arrived in Settle from Clitheroe, a poor but hard-working man with ambitions.

His first job was as Settle's "kiddy catcher", the wonderful local tag given to the truancy officer. He subsidised that post as a part-time insurance collector for the Pru. But he had eyes on better things.

He became manager of a provender merchant - "proven" is the local name - providing cattle and sheep food to local farmers. Within a few years, he bought out the company and re-named it WW Thornber and Son. This was to be the basis of the family fortune.

Until this time, farmers had sold their stock at informal sales often held in the street. As often as not, they received pretty low prices so they began to form co-operatives to set up local auction marts.

William Thornber, and later his son Arthur, Peter's father, became pioneers in this movement, which is why Peter still holds shares in several local marts.

Queen Victoria was by this time long-gone, but the Thornber family continued to share Victorian values. Although they were by no means adverse to making a bob or two, they began to share their good fortune with the local community.

Grandfather William, possibly because of his experiences as kiddy catcher, became a major force in the local education world, being chairman of the governors at Settle High School. He even forked out large sums from his own pocket to improve facilities at local village schools.

With the family fortunes made, Peter was sent to fee-paying Giggleswick. He says he was an "inmate" which suggests that he was not idyllically happy.

Nor was his grandfather, a staunch supporter of state education. He told the young lad sniffily: "I was invited to become a governor at Giggleswick. I did, of course, decline..."

As a young man with literary ambitions, Peter went off to London to work on the fringes of the publishing world. Or, to use his own words, "to live on my wits".

But the lure of the Dales proved too strong and he came back 10 years ago to make a living in a vast range of activities - "I had to return to my roots. It was inevitable."

With his poet's flowing mane, his bone-handled walking sticks, and the fob watch that hangs from his lapel, he is known to all and sundry in the town. And that fob watch tells a tale.

It was presented to his grandfather by the area's last Liberal MP, William Clough, after he gave evidence on the MP's behalf at Leeds Assizes in a libel action against the Craven Herald (as opposed to the present Craven Herald and Pioneer, which is the amalgamation of the two newspapers which once covered the district).

The Herald in fact won the 1911 case and, after almost 90 years, it would seem unfair to rake over old coals. Peter, however, is still willing to fight to case. "What you should know.." he began.

It was, sadly, time to leave. I could, in fact, have spent the day, perhaps a week, debating with Peter Thornber. I would, almost certainly, have lost for this man is a walking encyclopaedia of the Dales.

The secret, of cause, is to know whether he is being serious ... or merely taking the Michael.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.