Yes, another of my feeble attempts to bring a soupçon of pleasure into our Boris-induced catatonic state.... Way back ( posts 221 and 226) I put a rather odd "twitch" on here ... in two separate chunks ... and for your "Lockdown Entertainment" I thought it would be good to stick them together and bring them into the future .. that's now ... It was Uncle's birthday, and he had planned a celebration. He told the Old Monkey at breakfast that they were going to Owl Springs.The Old Monkey jumped for joy. If there is any treat that he likes, it is this visit. The springs are not up to much, and it's very hard to get a good look at the owl, but all the same there's something fascinating about the place. People come from all round, especially when there is a rumour that the owl is about, but, as a matter of fact, the only person so far who had really seen the owl was the Old Monkey.One wet Friday night when everyone else had gone away he saw it quite clearly for about five minutes. Most people have not even had a glimpse of it, and those who have are notable characters for the rest of their lives. They telephoned to Cowgill for the traction engine. Although it was Uncle's birthday, he had only received a few presents as yet, a packet of ginger-nuts form the Old Monkey, and some mangoes from Butterskin Mute, while Alonzo S. Whitebeard had simply given him a medal that he had picked up in the street.He gave it to Uncle because he thought it was no good, but he was surprised to discover that it had a very useful quality that nobody had expected. Uncle found this out by accident, while they were waiting for the traction engine. It suddenly turned blue when he stepped on to a little mound of earth , then became silver-coloured again when he stepped off it. He had the curiosity to dig the mound away a little, and found, just under the surface, nine half-crowns wrapped in grease-proof paper. It was evidently a buried-treasure detector. Uncle was delighted, for he had often wanted a thing of this kind, but Whitebeard was very depressed, and wished heartily that he had been generous enough to buy Uncle the half-penny typewriter that he had been looking at for days in Cheapman's window. At last they started, Uncle, the Old Monkey And Alonzo S. Whitebeard, with Cowgill as driver and engineer. The road to Owl Springs goes through a deep valley. Lots of people were also travelling there that day, some on foot, some by car, but most by motor coach. A man called Onion Sam gets up these trips during the May to September season. "Hallo ,Uncle !" said Beaver Hateman. " Going up to see the owl ?" " I hope to do so," replied Uncle calmly. " Well, I don't think you will ; I passed Wizard Blenkinsop on the road, and he assured me that the owl would not be seen after ten this morning. It's now half past nine and we shall be there in ten minutes, while you will get there about eleven! So long, Uncle !" Uncle was rather irritated at this speech, but cheered himself up with a second breakfast of coconuts and chocolate ice-cream from an electro-plated bucket. Beaver Hateman was right. It was nearly eleven when they reached the famous Owl Springs. The narrow valley was packed with people, who were walking around, dropping litter and looking at the springs. These springs are disappointing at the first glance, a mere muddy trickle of water coming down between bushes, but they are fascinating all the same, and it seems well worth while going even if you don't see the owl. Halfway up the valley is a large enclosure labelled Trade Exhibition. Uncle was in no hurry, and seeing that there was such a crowd, he thought he might as well visit this first. It was quite a good expedition with a large number of stalls. One was kept by a dull, heavy ox. He appeared to have only one thing on his stall, a box, pink in colour, called BIRTHDAY BOX. Uncle asked the price. " A thousand pounds," replied the ox in a slow, dull voice, "and I won't come down a farthing in my price." There was something about this box that took Uncle's fancy, and though he thought the price high he paid it in clean hundred pound notes. The moment he did so, the ox took from behind the counter a little board marked STALL CLOSED and prepared to leave. [ At this point in the story there's a lot more of that sort of nonsense, including a visit to Cheapman's store, where the Old Monkey bought a lifetime's supply of hay for a shilling, though what use monkeys have for hay I've no idea. He also visited a shop called THE BOOKMAN run by a man who was the son of one Wallaby Bookman, who had married a young woman called Mable The . For obvious reasons, he took up bookselling in later years. He only had twenty books on display, all the same, entitled "The History of Owl Springs." But Uncle had it already. ] ... now back to the story proper ... On their way Nailrod Hateman passed them. " It's all over for the day," he said. " Oh, what time we've had !" I saw the owl myself - looked straight at it for more than an hour !" This was most likely a lie, and they pretended not to hear. A gleam of sun came out, and everything looked rather pretty, in spite of the mass of litter left by the excursionists. Just as they were looking at the thin trickle of muddy water, a wonderful thing happened. From behind a low bush on the left, the owl appeared. He flew straight to a withered twig, and sat there looking at them. Uncle reached for the cine-camera, and took some shots of the owl from different positions. He did not venture to speak for fear that the owl should go. For twenty minutes the owl stayed, minutes filled with rapture. Then it gave a low hoot, preened its feathers, and slowly flew off. They all kept silent for a time. Uncle's face was glowing, and as for the Old Monkey, he swung himself up to the branch of a nearby tree and hung there by his hands and feet. At last they spoke. "Congratulations, sir, " said the Old Monkey. " I always wanted you to see it, and I was always sorry that you weren't there when I had that good look, three years ago." Uncle said nothing for a long time. He was so full of solemn joy. At last he drew a deep breath. "Gratification," he said, " is a poor word to express my feelings at this moment. I am afloat on sea of foaming joy and delight ! For the time being, I will say little, but on many a long winter evening I shall expound to you with suitable words my feelings at this extraordinary event !" " And I shall love to hear you," said the Old Monkey simply. " In the meantime, leave me alone," said Uncle. " I want to travel back quietly, reflecting deeply on this glorious hour, and fixing its details in my memory." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Well, wasn't that lovely ! A bit odd, maybe. But I'm sure many of my readers have had a similar experience. Plus ... I'm not at all sure what species of owl it was. By my problem is ..what music could go with that ? .. and here's my answer ... Again, even though I've brought the text down to "very small" , when I publish it the font is ridiculously big .. and that's not all ... it seems EVERY POST on it is equally massive. Do any of you out there know what's going on ? [ It seems to be OK now]
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AuthorThat's the author up there ... I was young and sprightly then. Archives
October 2022
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