The Farmer & His Wife
John Taylor is in the bad books after breaking a treasured object.
ANNE was out and I was in the kitchen reading “Farmer’s Weekly”. There was a big bluebottle buzzing about the kitchen. If it would only land on the table I could despatch it, but until it did, I didn’t dare make a swipe.
Besides, there’s a chance I’d miss and do some damage whilst it went on flying around. I did that once before in the living-room – never again! It was one of Anne’s Royal Doulton figures.
That wasn’t the first time I’d broken one of Anne’s treasures.
It was about two years after we were married. I had finished milking and came in for my breakfast.
Anne was on her knees on the floor.
“John, there’s a mouse behind this cupboard.”
She wasn’t frightened of mice, she just didn’t like them in the kitchen.
As soon as I moved the cupboard, the mouse scuttled across the floor. Without thinking I picked up the bread knife and made a swipe at it.
There was a loud crack and I was left with the wooden handle in my hands.
Anne was in tears.
“Oh, John, that was a wedding present!”
A farmer had made Anne a breadboard with a groove for the bread knife and he had fashioned the handle and fitted in a blade. Now it was in two halves.
I raced to Cupar to Mr Honeyman, the saddler. I placed the two halves on his worktop and told him my story. After a long silence he spoke. “I made you catapults and mended your braces and belts, but I can’t put wood and steel together.”
Another silence.
“Go to Bob and tell him I sent you. Say I said he was the only man who could do it.”
Bob was a plumber not far down the street. He was hard at work when I found him.
I showed him the two pieces of knife and told him what Mr Honeyman had said – that he was the only man in town who could achieve the impossible. “He said that? Well, I’ll do it.” I’ve never known a morning in Cupar go so slowly. I went back to Bob’s workshop at 11.30.
There he was, with the knife – now in one piece.
“Well, I’ve done it. You can go and tell Honeyman I’ve achieved the impossible.”
I raced back to the Riggin. When I showed Anne the good-as-new knife she gave me a hug and a kiss.
By the way, that bluebottle is a thing of the past, thanks to a swipe with a copy of “Farmer’s Weekly”.