Dearest Diary, Day eleven:
Dismissed Bates for poaching. Told him
to think himself fortunate he wasn't before the magistrate, the old
rogue!
Later, summoned Constable Hubble and a
few of the hands to turn Bates out of the cottage.
Dear old Nanny Bates had to be carried
aloft to the gates in her rocking chair, resembling for all the world
a very ancient Whistler's Mother on a Skimmity Ride! Her legs
apparently no longer functional, she clutched in one silly, gnarled old
hand a large, sodden handkerchief, the other a teapot. How she
sobbed! Tippi found all this so amusing she snorted through her nose
like a braying ass and had to be held upright by the elbows courtesy
of Yours Truly and the Constable, who hemmed and hawed into his
collars "now then, Miss", "if you please, Miss"!
Gave her a wigging at tea about unseemly behaviour before the Lower
Orders.
That blasted fellow Churchill holding
court at the Club again. Preposterous little clown. Acts as though
he aspires to be Prime Minister! Corkers agrees.
Caught Cotter behaving unusually in the
kitchen garden, as though in a phantasmagorical trance. He's starting
to give me the willies.
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