THE spirits should have settled down for another year now that Hallowe'en is behind us. But that does not mean an end to nightly disturbances. This week things will not only go bump in the night, they will go flash, bang and wallop too.

The loudest festivities take place, of course, on Wednesday. But before we enjoy the fireworks, we must first endure the pranks.

According to The Yorkshire Dictionary of Dialect, Tradition and Folklore, by Knaresborough historian Arnold Kellett, "'Michief Neet'... appears to have originated in a transfer of tricks associated with Hallowe'en to the 4th of November, the night before Plot.

"Pranks played by children range from harmless fun such as window-tapping with a button on cotton, door handles smeared with treacle, or the removal of gates, to the dangerous misuse of fireworks and acts of vandalism."

According to some experts Mischief Night became divorced from Hallowe'en and hitched to November 4 in 1752 when the calendar was rearranged. So it is a far longer-standing tradition than recent import Trick Or Treat, but that does not make it universally appreciated.

In fact it gets many folks' blood boiling, including Emma Clayton (see right) and former Evening Press columnist John Blunt. His outburst on November 4, 1964, proves that teenagers have been getting it in the neck for at least 40 years.

"Tonight is Mischief Night," he wrote, "the occasion when the younger generation, in many cases aided and abetted by their elders, consider that they have the licence to strike fear and terror into the hearts of the lonely...

"So off will go gates and dustbin lids. There will be paint and grease all over the place. Doorbells will ring and milk bottles will vanish. The children, bless their little hearts, will have a wonderful time. Mischief Night, if you don't mind me saying so, is one of the more barbaric customs which we could well do without...

"After all, it seems fairly evident that teenage louts don't even need an excuse to wreck health clinics, parks and bowling greens in the city. They just go ahead regardless of the date."

This piece of Blunt speaking was seconded by a couple from Danum Road, Fulford, who had a letter published in the Evening Press two days later.

"As 'foreigners' to whom the custom of Mischief Night is comparatively new, we fully agree with John Blunt in his article condemning this stupid behaviour," they wrote.

"We are amazed to find that the older generation seem to condone rather than condemn acts that can only be classed as vandalism."

They were particularly peeved because the "hooligans" had "presented us with a bill for £8", although they didn't explain how.

The following year, the Evening Press carried a report on the aftermath of the mischief-making.

"Householders put up with the usual pranks from children who removed gates off hinges and carried them some distance down roads, threw fireworks about in the streets and moved other portable objects..."

More macabre was the tailor's dummy strung up from a noose dangling off scaffolding on a building being demolished on Micklegate.

In Scarborough, pranksters had daubed new arrows in the road, as well as the succinct slogan on Valley Bridge: "Bobbies - ugh".

Once the mischief is out of the way, it is time for children everywhere to celebrate the capture, torture and execution of a former York man. Guy Fawkes Night has long been a favourite date on the calendar with youngsters.

Back in the Sixties, the attitude to fireworks was much more lax. Children aged 13 and above could buy them legally, and the Fireworks Code was not introduced until 1970.

Given this, there were remarkably few serious injuries related to the festivities in the second half of the 1960s, with the tragic exception of a Knaresborough boy killed in a firework accident.

There were many displays organised by local groups. New Earswick held a torch light procession before the Carnival Queen lit the bonfire in 1964, the Evening Press reported. The York Ebor Round Table Fireworks Night at St Hilda's Garth was "for the children in York Corporation homes".

Although the emergency services reported a relatively quiet evening, it did not pass entirely without incident. At the seaside, the coastguard reported a number of false alarms when ships mistook fireworks for distress flares.

By 1965, fireworks were shooting off shop shelves. York traders reported that they could have sold out twice over, and one woman had travelled from Leeds in search of pyrotechnics because her home city had run out.

This led the Evening Press to carry this footnote: "For dads who left squib-buying a little late this year, there will undoubtedly be a few rockets - from their children."

It was a similar story four years later. "Any fear that the anti-firework trend would take the colour and bang out of bonfire night was shattered today when the city's shopkeepers reported sales at least up to last year's levels," the Evening Press reported on November 5, 1969.

The sales were only stymied by old-style opening hours. "We ordered extra after selling out last year," said a member of staff at Precious's in Petergate, "and if bonfire night had fallen at the weekend we would have sold out comfortably.

"Half-day closing has spoiled the chances of a last-minute rush for us."

In the year Guy Fawkes failed to bring the House down, 1605, folk would have lit bonfires - but on November 17. This was the date that marked the accession of Elizabeth I.

But as the years went by and people's memory of the queen faded, the tradition switched to the fifth to mark the plotters' capture.

Over the years, people have taken great pride in building the most impressive bonfire. In 1966, Scarborough had two towering infernos, courtesy of T Laughton & Sons wine merchants.

The firm had introduced plastic beer crates - and donated 1,000 obsolete wooden boxes to a couple of bonfire night events.

But perhaps the most novel bonfire had taken place a little further down the coast the year before. Bridlington Rugby Union Club topped its pile of combustibles with a ship.

The 30ft whaler, formerly used by the town's Sea Scouts, contained a Viking-style effigy of Guy Fawkes. Soon they were both ashes. It might not have been historically accurate, but it was spectacular.

That fine blaze contrasted with a rather sorry Fireworks Night the following year. In 1967, there were few accidents, but then there were few fireworks. It was a complete washout. Here's hoping for a bonfire night both safe and dry on Wednesday.

Updated: 12:00 Monday, November 03, 2003