Donkey's Serenade

Extracts from Donkey's Ears Apart.    Edited By Carrie Torode.  Click Here For Purchasing Details.

"I'll tell you who I saw this morning," announced Ernie, one decidedly cold winter's day.  "I saw old Herbie."  We were all in our usual places around the stove in the workshop, the men on the benches and me on my upturned Snowcem drum in the corner.    "Herbie who?" asked Charlie, without taking his eyes off the toasting rack, where his unsuspecting cheese sandwich was about to experience the daily ritual of cremation.  "You know, you know!" said Ernie, "Grandes Rocques Herbie."

A silence fell as the men digested this latest piece of information, along with their sandwiches.  "Do you mean," enquired the dormouse, who was snuggled down in the warm glow of the stove, "the bloke who hires the deck-chairs and 'whoopee floats' on the beach there?"  "Mm-hmm, I saw him in the Ramée," said Ernie.  "Well, that's not surprising," commented Charlie, "who still wouldn't take his eyes off the toasting rack, "that's not surprising, seeing as that's where he lives!"  "It's still surprising, for all that," said Ernie, "to see him in the winter I mean.  'Cos I thought he hibernated like the bears and squirrels, and only came out again in time for the 'season'."

 "I wonder," said a dreamy voice, "if they have them anywhere else in the world?"   Everyone looked from one to the other, to make sense of it.  Had the dormouse finally flipped?   "Whoopee floats I mean, after all, we've grown up with them but I wonder if anyone else has them?"  "Well I've seen beach boats on the mainland that you turn the handles on the side to drive paddles," said Stan.

"Oh yes, in Spain they've got what they call 'pedaloes' and you pedal them with your feet," said Johnny-the-coal, "but I can't say I've ever seen whoopee floats anywhere else."  "Well, it's no good asking me," said Bill, "I've never been out of the island.  The bloney Germans couldn't get me out and I'm not going now!!"

 "I had a shock last night," said Stan, "I was riding home from the pub in the dark and a cow ran out of someone's garden, straight in front of me!  I swerved to miss it, caught the handlebars on the wall and fell off." "They must having been selling stronger beer than they used to at L'Ancresse Lodge if you see cows running out of people's gardens!" teased Charlie.  The others laughed.  "No," said Stan, "it was one of Paddy Harker's, they're always getting loose and wandering round the district."

Paddy Harker was a well known character round the Bordeaux - La Moye, L'Ancresse area.  He was reputedly from a very well-to-do and highly respected Lincolnshire farming family.  You never really knew what he would do next.  I remember coming home from a party at about two o'clock in the morning and seeing him driving his herd to graze somewhere over on the other side of the island.  People were constantly ringing the Police to say that they'd just found a cow in their wash-house or outside toilet or somewhere.  To be quite honest, when trying to sort out the situation, the Police, not being experienced in farming ways, were often a bigger problem than the cows!

It was inevitable, considering the countless times the Police were called to deal with matters arising from Paddy's farming exploits, that he would one day wind up in court.  When the great day came and he was found guilty of some misdemeanour, he refused to pay the fine and was sentenced to a month in prison.

All went well in prison, until four o'clock, when he requested to speak to the prison Governor on important business.  He was promptly taken to the Governor's office, where he asked, "What's going to happen about milking the cows?"  The Governor looked astounded, "Well surely," he said, "you've made arrangements with someone to take care of milking and such like?"

"No," said Paddy, "there's no-one I could ask."

"But surely," protested the Governor, "a neighbour or someone?"

"No," said Paddy again, "there's no-one."

Boy, was there a panic on then!  The last thing the Police, the court and the prison service needed was the R.S.P.C.A. accusing them of causing gross neglect to a herd of Golden Guernsey's, and so transport and two officers had to be found to take him down for the evening milking session.  For the next thirty days, Paddy had a warm room, bathroom and toilet facilities, excellent food and, in the company of two amiable prison officers, a taxi morning and evening to take him to see to his cows.

Knowing Paddy, the wonder was that when the month was up, he didn't nip next door and put a brick through the Police Station window, to continue his ideal lifestyle, being waited on hand and foot at the St James Street 'Blue Lamp Hotel'!