14 June 2004 13:18

A Cornish Story

Once upon a time there lived in the far west of Cornwall a strange creature. Human, of that we are sure, but of odd appearance. His face was covered with hair but not much grew on his head. he was barrel
shaped and walked with a swaying motion (particularly after 11:00pm). Although of odd appearance the creature was clearly not unintelligent as he communicated by word and the most up to the minute forms of communication. True, his views on life could be a little eccentric but Cornwall is known for its eccentrics. However, despite his oddness he was generally considered to be harmless, affable and amiable. He made friends with the local people with whom he had come to live and was a staunch ally to them. He took their side whenever he thought a wrong
had been done to them and, although it sometimes caused him problems with the local Sheriff, he kept to his lights. Each year the little village where he lived held a huge fayre or fair. It was an unusual event as it often lasted over three months with people coming and going all the time. Some stayed for a week, some stayed for two; others stayed just a few days. Although the visitors, who swarmed like ants over the village, were welcomed by the tradespeople and entertainers our poor old fellow did not welcome them at all. He complained about the numbers, the noise, the stench and the way that some (not all) of them behaved. He also moaned about the waggons in which they arrived. They blocked the paths, the roads and the fords. He really felt that the little village would be better off without them. One day, whilst walking the cliffs, this peculiar fellow came across a ring fashioned out of tin. It was dirty and very old. He spat on it and rubbed it on his sleeve. He sat on the grass and kept rubbing until it started to shine. Suddenly he was aware of a presence behind him. Looking round he saw an old man dressed in some sort of robe. He had a long white beard and, in his hand, held a tall wooden staff with strange carvings. "You have called me," said the man. "Uhh?" replied our fellow. "You have called me, you rubbed my ring and you have called me, here I am, what is it you want?". Now our fellow was not as daft as many thought and he quickly came up with an answer. "Well, it's near to the month of June and our long fair will soon be starting, but I don't like it. This year could you make all the visitors stay away and leave the village just for those that live here?" The Saint (for that he surely was) looked at our fellow, "are you sure about this?" he asked. Our fellow nodded.  The Saint struck the earth with his staff
three times. "Your desire is granted my friend, I hope you realise what you have done." That year no visitors turned up to the village fair. The tradespeople and entertainers stood forlorn around. Only our fellow was happy and he eventually told the villagers what he had done. "You fool!" they cried. "Our tin has gone, our fishing has gone, it is only our long fair and those that it brings that keep us going. Now we shall all starve." The villagers grew angry and hurled rock and stones and bread with meat wrapped in it a the poor fellow and chased Adan drove him out of the village and right up over the Tamar. As he crossed the Tamar few saw an
elderly man with a long beard strike the ground with his staff. But, they all saw the visitors to their long fayre. The village was saved Adan the people thanked the Saint. As for the poor fellow. Who knows?
Benatugana - Tereba nessa - Winwaloe  

Vile Jelly

14 June 2004 15:21

Murky buckets.

A classic of literature; vibrant scenery, strong characterisation, action
and a happy-ending. And people you said you couldn't write for toffee!

You are the new J K Rowpullman. I await the sequel (there has to be a
sequel, it's a contractual obligation for fantasy novels!) with keen

PS. Who's this Adan person?


14 June 2004 17:31

He was included as a QC check. Not mentioned = missive not read (probably) - One day I might even send you one of my "proper" stories!

Vile Jelly

15 June 2004 17:25

You've got the RT intrigued now! They want to know what's a 'proper' story.


18 June 2004 12:25

A piece of very good writing - they would not understand!

Vile Jelly

18 June 2004 15:23

There's nowt wrong with their writing; the abstract-naive style is all the rage these days. Think of their scribblings as not so much writing as a modern art installation. I don't see why cuddly sheeps, hedgehogs, dragons, etc. shouldn't be eligible to win the Turnip Prize, every talentless baboon around seems to have won it recently.

So, go on, then. Don't leave us on tentacle-hooks. Send us your illuminated manuscripts.

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