Another of the winning entries in the Daily Telegraph’s 1999 Mini-Saga Competition.
The task set being to compose a story of 50 words exactly – no more! no less!
The Price Of Freedom – Mini-Saga #4
Category Archives: stories
Father William
Are Old, Father William” is a poem by Lewis Carroll that appears in his book ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’ (1865).
You are Old, Father William
“You are old, Father William,” the young man said,
“And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head –
Do you think, at your age, it is right?
“In my youth,” Father William replied to his son,
“I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I’m perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again.”
“You are old,” said the youth, “as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door —
Pray, what is the reason for that?”
“In my youth,” said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
“I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment — one shilling a box —
Allow me to sell you a couple?”
“You are old,” said the youth, “and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak —
Pray, how did you manage to do it?”
“In my youth,” said his father, “I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life.”
“You are old,” said the youth, “one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose —
What made you so awfully clever?”
“I have answered three questions, and that is enough,”
Said his father. “Don’t give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I’ll kick you down stairs.”
By Lewis Carroll
What Would their friends think?
An entry in the Daily Telegraph’s 1999 Mini-Saga Competition.
The task set being to compose a story of 50 words exactly – no more! no less!
The Lyke Wake Dirge
The Lyke Wake Walk is a 40 mile walk which crosses the most extensive area of heather moorland in England – in the North Yorkshire Moors National Park. When the walk was first instituted in the mid 20th Century the challenge was given to complete it within 24 hours. Many walkers still attempt this.
Although the walk itself is a relatively modern event, the Like Wake itself originated as a funeral chant in the 14th Century in and around Cleveland on and around the northern scarp slope of these moors. The Dirge as it was known, was normally sung during the traditional watch (wake) at the side of the corpse (lyke). Known now as the Lyke Wake Dirge, it is said to be one of the earliest still extant, dialect poems.
John Aubrey wrote in his diaries in 1686 “The beliefe in Yorkshire was amongst the vulgar (perhaps is in part still) that after the person’s death the soule went over Whinny-Moore, and till about 1616-24 at the funerale a woman came and sang the following song.”
Lyke Wake Dirge
This ae neet, this ae neet,
Every neet and all,
Fire an’ fleet an’ candleleet,
And Christ receive thy saul.
If thou from here our wake has passed,
Every neet and all,
To Whinny Moor thou comes at last,
And Christ receive thy saul.
And if ever thou gavest hosen or shoen,
Every neet and all,
Then sit ye down and put them on,
And Christ receive thy saul.
But if hosen or shoen thou ne’er gavest nane,
Every neet and all,
The whinny will prick thee to thy bare bane,
And Christ receive thy saul.
From Whinny Moor when thou mayst pass,
Every neet and all,
To Brig o’ Dread thou comest at last,
And Christ receive thy saul.
From Brig o’ Dread when thou may’st pass,
Every neet and all,
To Purgatory thou comest at last,
And Christ receive thy saul.
And if ever thou gavest meat or drink,
Every neet and all,
The fire will never make thee shrink,
And Christ receive thy saul
But if meat nor drink thou ne’er gav’st nane,
Every neet and all,
The fire will burn thee to thy bare bane,
And Christ receive thy saul.
This ae neet, this ae neet,
Every neet and all,
Fire an’ fleet an’ candleleet,
And Christ receive thy saul.
The following is an extract from ‘Lyke Wake Walk” by Bill Cowley . . .
“Wake” means the watching over a corpse, and “Lyke” is the corpse itself- as in the “lych” gate of a church-c/f. German “leich “. … there is no suggestion that corpses were carried over the Lyke Wake Walk, and the connection between Walk and Dirge is merely that members of the first party to do the Walk, like many who have done it since, finding themselves in the middle of Wheeldale Moor at 3 a.m. felt a great sympathy with all the souls who have to do such a crossing, and a real affection for the poetry of the Dirge-its stark simplicity, repetitions, and dramatic power. Perhaps only those who have crossed Wheeldale or Fylingdales Moors with storm and darkness threatening can fully appreciate the beauty of the Lyke Wake Dirge.
For a sung version of this ancient poem – by Pentangle, click on the YouTube link below . . . Lyke Wake Dirge
Mini Saga2-War & Pieces
The winning entry in the Daily Telegraph’s 1999 Mini-Saga Competition.
The task set being to compose a story of 50 words exactly – no more! no less!
The Ballad Of Beggar’s Bridge
This bridge, in a traditional Pack Horse shape, has remained intact straddling the River Esk near the moorland village of Glaisdale, in the North Yorkshire Moors National Park, for 400 years. The village is about ten miles inland from Whitby, where the River Esk flows into the North Sea.
It is known as Beggar’s Bridge, and was built in 1619, by Tom Ferris, a local man, son of a poor moorland sheep farmer. Having been turned down as a suitable suitor for his love, Agnes, by her wealthy land-owning father, Tom vowed to seek his fortune and to one day return to claim Agnes’ for his wife. After many adventures at sea, Tom returned, now a rich man, married Agnes, and prospered, to such an extent that he eventually became the Lord Mayor of Hull. The bridge, it is said, was erected by Tom as a memorial to his wife, and as a means for future lovers to cross the river without having to brave its often flooded waters. The story, as it has been passed down, is a mix of fact and fiction. The basic facts are essentially true, but the story, has become a local legend and has, no doubt been embellished over the course of time.
I have tried my hand at re-telling this story in a simple and traditional ballad style, the results of which efforts I give below . . .
THE BALLAD OF BEGGAR’S BRIDGE
He lived beside the river Esk
In a fair delightful dale
His story I must tell you now
A truly stirring tale.
Tom loved a lass of high estate
It was not meant to be
For she was of the Manor born
A lowly lad was he.
Her father disapproved the match
Tom was of lowly birth
No land, no money, no position,
Of very little worth.
But their shared love was sound and solid
So secretly they met.
They shared their passions willingly
But always under threat.
Poor Tom was restless and intent
To run away to sea;
He held fast to the thoughts that stirred
Inside him to be free.
He knew one day he’d win his bride,
He would not be gainsaid;
Beyond this dale there was a world
Where fortunes could be made.
So one dark night he set off late
To wish Agnes farewell
To promise to return for her
To ever with her dwell.
She lived beside the river too
But on the other side.
He therefore had to swim across
He would not be denied.
The Esk just then was in full spate
It swirled along the dale.
It almost took Tom’s life that night
He knew he must prevail.
With strength of ten he forged a path
Across the raging stream;
He dragged his aching body out
As if within a dream.
With his goodbyes Tom gave his word
That some day he’d return;
And Agnes gave her solemn oath
She’d wait for him in turn.
Tom took himself to Whitby town
And soon with Drake joined battle;
Against that Spanish fleet he fought
Saw off the invading rabble.
A rover in West Indies then
And piracy his game.
Plunder and pillage gave him wealth
And brought a kind of fame.
He felt that now he could return
To claim his promised bride;
Confront her father without fear,
With new found hope and pride.
And so to Glaisdale Tom returned
His roving days now past.
True to her word Agnes rejoiced,
Her hopes fulfilled at last.
They married soon and lived in bliss,
Or so the story goes.
Tom grew in wealth, in fame, in power,
Commanding all he chose.
Throughout the north he garnered fame
His name grew ever bigger.
Lord Mayor of Hull he then became,
Now a respected figure.
And when his Agnes died at last
Their story he declared,
Would with a bridge over the Esk
With all the world be shared.
A bridge to join the river’s banks
To help new lovers’ trysts;
A bridge secure from spate and flood
Which to this day exists.
The reason it’s called Beggar’s Bridge
No one is very sure.
‘Tis thought was done to prompt us all
That Tom was once so poor.
THE FORSAKEN MERMAID
Photo: WHB – taken in Aberporth, Ceredigion, on the West Coast of Wales, facing towards Cardigan Bay and the Irish Sea
She emanates wistfulness
melancholy, sorrow
bound to her rock
out of sight of her sea.
Andromeda’s prison
awaiting her Perseus.
She thinks of the sea,
beseeching the ocean,
to roll in and take her
to wash her away
to be lost in the waves
to swirl with the kelp
in that pellucid world
in those welcoming depths
to join the white horses
to laze in the rock pools
bask on the corals
where once were her friends
No coteries here
no sisters, no mermen,
no one to favour her –
offspring or lovers.
That whirlpool which bred her
the spray which had bathed her
sequestrated and gone now
no longer her milieu.
Is this always and ever
is this life’s stricture
retribution for what?
For loving her kingdom
her aquatic birthright?
Or for being in form
not fish, fowl nor fiend?
For living a life
half tide-borne,
half earth-child,
hermaphrodite, epicene,
ambiguous, undefined,
a shadowy being,
crippled, malformed?
Her joy now –
the sunlight,
the breeze
and the dew
the song of the seagull
the far sigh of the sea.
Only these now remind her
of when she was free.
Poem: WHB (Copyright)
Lustic Limerick #1
Over the next ten weekdays I give you…
A Limerick every other day
To keep my Covid Blues away …
There once was a beautiful couple,
Who did press-ups to keep themselves supple.
She said “Look in my eyes”,
He said “I love those big thighs”.
He was clever but not very subtle!
Icons of my Past
Icons of my Past
My era has passed and gone,
And with it all my heroes,
But memory lingers long,
Of giants, saints and weirdos.
These I have loved and known,
They made me who I am,
Imbibed while I have grown,
Since I lived in a pram.
How they have coloured my life,
These heroes, these comic bygones,
But through victory and strife,
They’ve ever been my icons.
How many do you remember,
Who live and colour your dreams?
Valiant or tender,
Feeding both laughter and screams.
These are the ones which live on in my own memory . . .
Just William: ‘Just William’ is the first book of children’s short stories about the young school boy, William Brown, written by Richmal Crompton, and published in 1922. William Brown is an eleven-year-old boy, eternally scruffy and frowning. He and his friends, Ginger, Henry, and Douglas, call themselves the Outlaws. Also appearing in the books is Violet Elizabeth Bott, who is renowned for crying out “I’ll thcream and thcream ’till I’m thick”. The stories were also used in numerous television, film and radio adaptations of the books.
Roy of the Rovers: A British comic strip about the life and times of a fictional footballer and later manager named Roy Race, who played for Melchester Rovers.
Biggles & his sidekick, Algernon (‘Algy’) Lacey: James Bigglesworth, nicknamed “Biggles”, is a fictional pilot and adventurer, the title character and hero of the Biggles series of adventure books, written for young readers by W. E. Johns. There are almost 100 Biggles books published between 1932 and 1968.
Wilson of the Wizard – The Wonder Athlete – illustrated stories first published in 1943 as a comic strip, in the British illustrated story paper ’The Wizard’, written by Gilbert Lawford Dalton and drawn by Jack Glass.
Garth – action-adventure hero, created by Steve Dowling, in a comic strip published in the British newspaper ‘Daily Mirror’ from 1943 to 1997.
Rupert Bear — (with friends, Bill Badger, Edward Trunk and Algy Pug) – comic strip character created by English artist Mary Tourtel and first appearing in 1920 in the Daily Express newspaper.
Desperate Dan was a wild west character in the now-defunct British comic magazine The Dandy.
Dennis the Menace: a long-running comic strip in the British children’s comic The Beano.
Billy Bunter is a fictional schoolboy created by Charles Hamilton using the pen name Frank Richards. He features in stories set at Greyfriars School, originally published in the boys’ weekly story paper ’The Magnet’ from 1908 to 1940.
P. C.49 was created for radio by Alan Stranks. PC 49 (Police Constable Archibald Berkeley-Willoughby) was an ordinary bobby on the beat, solving crime in the late 40s and early 50s.
Flash Gordon is the hero of a space opera adventure comic strip created by and originally drawn by Alex Raymond. It was first published in 1934.
Superman is a fictional superhero, created by writer Jerry Siegel and artist Joe Shuster. He first appeared in the comic book Action Comics #1 in 1938.
Dan Dare is a British science fiction comic hero, created by illustrator Frank Hampson who also wrote the first stories. Dare appeared in the Eaglecomic stories from 1950 to 1967. It was also dramatised seven times a week on Radio Luxembourg from 1951to 1956.
Captain Marvel, also known as Shazam, is a fictional American comic superhero, created by artist C. C. Beck and writer Bill Parker 1939 appearing in American comics originally published by Fawcett Comics. He is the alter ego of Billy Batson, a boy who, by speaking the magic word “SHAZAM!” (acronym of six “immortal elders”: Solomon, Hercules, Atlas, Zeus, Achilles, and Mercury), can transform himself into a costumed adult with the powers of superhuman strength, speed, flight and other abilities. Based on comic book sales, the character was the most popular superhero of the 1940s, outselling even Superman.
Simon Templar, The Saint: Simon Templar, a Robin Hood-like figure, known as the Saint, the protagonist of a book series by Leslie Charteris and subsequent adaptations on TV., a Robin Hood-like figure, known as the Saint, the protagonist of a book series by Leslie Charteris and subsequent adaptations on TV.
Shielding in the Nursery
Shielding in the Nursery
Jack Sprat Is getting fat,
He’s nibbling while he shields.
Weight reduction and old age
Are now his battlefields.
His wife has quite a different plan
As she battles with her weight.
Her diet, filled with pop and coke,
And cake upon her plate.
Tommy Tucker no longer sings,
Waiting for his supper,
Gorging on sweets and chocolate,
And loaves of bread with butter.
Little Miss Muffet’s curds and whey
No longer are enough
To satisfy her appetite,
She huffs and puffs and stuffs.
Georgie Porgie’s pudding and pie
Were never enough for existence,
He’s taken to feeding on fat chicken thigh
As the line of least resistance.
Little Jack Horner still loves his pies,
But one won’t suffice for a snack,
So he adds to his meals a pair of Cartwheels
And a toffee and treacle flapjack.
Now Humpty Dumpty sits on the floor,
He’s had quite enough of falling.
He contents himself with Smarties galore,
His appetite something appalling.
Jack and Jill are filling out,
Snacking all the time,
Drowning their recent lockdown sorrows
In patisseries and wine.
All seem now to have given up trying
To take more care with their diet,
Which causes us all to be sad at their fall,
At least they’re not having a riot.
Roland's Ragbag 