Wikipedia
Brigg (/'brɪg/) is a small market town in North Lincolnshire, England, with a population of 5,076 in 2,213 households ( 2001 UK census), the population increasing to 5,626 at the 2011 census. The town lies at the junction of the River Ancholme and east-west transport routes across northern Lincolnshire. As a formerly important local centre, the town's full name of Glanford Brigg is reflected in the surrounding area and local government district of the same name. The town's urban area includes the neighbouring hamlet of Scawby Brook.
Brigg was a county constituency centred on the town of Brigg in North Lincolnshire. It returned one Member of Parliament (MP) to the House of Commons of the Parliament of the United Kingdom, elected by the first-past-the-post voting system.
The constituency was created for the 1885 general election, and abolished for the February 1974 general election when it was replaced by the new constituency of Brigg and Scunthorpe.
Usage examples of "brigg".
So the chances of Brigg, Tasker or Lantry being killed, as things were then, were remote.
His head was indistinct in the cloud, but when he came out Brigg saw it was the one who never washed.
He smiled at Brigg with the special smile of army cooks when they are stirring something.
Driscoll, who was sergeant of the guard, came from the door as Brigg reached it.
After the others on guard had taken their dippings from the tea bucket, Brigg bore it across the parade ground, around the hockey goalposts, and up the sounding stairs to the middle floor of Barrack Block Two.
Walking out of the sun, Brigg felt the shadows flow cold across his shoulders and neck.
As he looked down intently at the dull black toecap gradually coming to a reluctant shine, Brigg guessed what was coming next.
But only as remote, Brigg considered, as his chances of opening his sexual life.
They had buried them in a flat, wide grave, and about three months after Brigg got to the garrison the grave was found.
At the first moment he had seen the disgusting thing in the pit, Brigg had jerked his head away and fixed his streaming eyes on a round, single tree at the end of the field and some birds that were arising from out of it as the rain became thick and frightened them.
He had lived in Dock Street, Hull, and Brigg imagined him growing up there with the fishy smells coming off the docks, and the mist, thin and horizontal, lying like resting ghosts along the street on mid-winter nights.
When he knew he was on the list for the training camp at Buksing, Brigg lay on his bed, thought of Oxley and imagined what the paybook of Private Brigg would look like gummed up with blood.
After pushing through the crowd at the foyer, Brigg strolled around the rim of the activity.
Her eyes were half closed, gentle and bored, and Brigg watched her work her red tongue along her teeth looking for lipstick pieces to clean.
The waiter came to the table and Brigg bought another beer and a booklet of tickets.