"MY MOTHER SAID....."

Miss Marple writes:

Discreetly entering my bedroom I beheld Demure Dorcas, the Crafty Chambermaid, on her knees rummaging through the contents of my suitcase which she had dragged from under the bed. She was so absorbed in one of the Poirot mysteries by the immortal Dame Agatha Christie [from whom I learned most of what I know about sleuthing] that she only realised I was in the room when I exclaimed “Pray what does this mean?”

“Oh excuse me, Miss Marple,” the saucy hussy replied, “I was dusting under your bed when I found this fascinating masterpiece.”

“And who told you to pry into my belongings, Miss?” I sarcastically enquired.

“One must always be on the safe side, Miss Marple”, she replied. “I was brought up to check all unopened packages for possible intruders. As my late revered great-Aunt the eccentric music hall artiste Nellie Wallace frequently used to sing:

My Mother said

Always look under the bed

Before you blow the candle out

To see if there’s a man about.

I always do

And you can make a bet

It’s never been my luck

To find a man there yet.”

“Singing disreputable ditties won’t excuse your misbehaviour, ma’am”, I retorted. “I shall summon the Beadle and have you put into the stocks until Anticant convenes a Burrow Court.“

“I shouldn’t advise it if I were you”, the wicked wench responded. “You’ll never guess what I found under Anticant’s bed. Or under the Beadle’s and Mrs Malaprop’s – not to mention Dame Barbara’s. I hardly think they would like you or anyone else to read about it in the Burrow Bugle, which I fear they will do very soon if you proceed as you propose.”

I was dumbfounded. “You are a blackmailing chit!” I exclaimed, and set off to find the Beadle.

RETURN TO THE BURROW

The cream-and-gold Roller swept under the archway purring to a stop in the Burrow courtyard and Dame Barbara emerged, followed by Anticant who was dreamily warbling:

‘Mud, mud, glorious mud!

Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood.

So follow me, follow

To Anticant’s Hollow

And there we will wallow

In glorious mud!’

He then tottered off to his den, supported on each side by the Beadle and Mrs Malaprop, who were cheerily calling ‘Hi-de-Hi’ and ‘Ho-de-Ho’ to each other.

Dame Barbara proceeded to hold a press conference, saying she had three important announcements to make.

“First, I have decided that in future I shall be known as Dame Barbara de Carteblanche, to avoid any confusion with other best-selling Romantic novelists, living or dead.

“Second, Anticant and I are so enchanted with the Thermal Health Spa we have just been visiting that I have purchased it for his 80^th birthday present, and it will accordingly be re-opening in the near future after appropriate refurbishment as ‘Anticant’s Hollow’. We shall be inviting applications for the important post of Water Beadle.

“Lastly, I am embarking upon my 954^th epic, inspired by our trip. I had intended to call it Water Sporting, but as dear Ben Trovato has pointed out this might be misconstrued I have decided that its title will be Aquatic Passions. The heroine’s name – need I say? – is Undine.

“Six large pink gins please, Ben.”

Ben Trovato, who had followed Dame Barbara out of the Rolls accompanied by a primly dressed young woman with her hair scrimped back into a bun, hastened to attend to Dame Barbara’s requirements.

The young woman, he explained, was a highly qualified Crafty Chambermaid whom he had recruited from Mrs Jump’s renowned Impeccable Domestics Agency, guaranteed to supply only persons of unblemished character. Her name was Demure Dorcas.

Left alone in the courtyard, the new acquisition looked furtively around to see that she was unobserved, and then announced:

“I am the Craftiest of Chambermaids!

I’m a dab hand at getting laid

By rich old men as big as tents

Whose largesse helps me pay my rents

And buy a big Mercedes Benz.

“Dame Chastity don’t plough my furrow -

I mean to liven up the Burrow.

But better not tell Anticant

Or the old fool will start a rant

And set the Beadle on my track

With Mrs Malaprop, alack.

“I’ll have to wheedle Master Ben

And throw Wooffie a bone, so when

A likely man checks in

They’ll turn a blind eye to my sin.

If Trousers calls, or maybe Wook, or Zola,

I’ll be ready for you, guys.

- Yours, Lusty Lola.”

She then skipped saucily into the Burrow.

Meanwhile, Miss Marple was reporting to Anticant on the absence of any startling incidents during her stewardship. No inappropriate articles of clothing had been hoisted aloft on the flagpole, and no rude messages had been received. There had been only one phone call – from a hiccupping Wooffie, barking somewhat incoherently from a “divine distillery on Dartmoor”, where the superb quality of the brandy had delighted both Lavenderblue and himself so much that he had ordered two dozen barrels for the Burrow cellars.

It looks as if there are interesting times ahead at the Burrow. Watch this space!

BURROW WAKES WEEK

Next week is the Burrow staff annual holiday, so there will be no more posting in the Burrow or the Arena for a while.

Dame Barbara is wafting Anticant away in her cream-and-gold Roller to an exclusive luxury health farm in the depths of the country, where they will both be mud-bathed and otherwise cosseted and pampered to their hearts’ content.

The Beadle and Mrs Malaprop are embarking on a “getting to know you better” event at Butlin’s, Somewhere-on-the Coast. Will they share a chalet? Perhaps we shall never know…..

Wooffie has been loaned to Lavenderblue as her escort on a Westward Ho! nature trail. The original plan was for Ben Trovato to take Wooffie on a mountain rescue adventure course in the Cairngorms, but Wooffie is avid to have his portrait painted, and looked so pathetic that Dame Barbara rashly lent him her best string of pearls and waved them both goodbye – we hope only temporarily.

Ben, who is a keen student of ‘form’, has duly absorbed the Naked Kayaker’s highly instructive exposition of ‘grobbling’, and has announced his intention of going wherever destiny leads him to grobble for Crafty Housemaids. We await the results of his efforts with interest and some trepidation.

Miss Marple has kindly offered to stay behind and guard the Burrow against intruders. She Is a most trustworthy and resourceful chatelaine, and we have every confidence that her prim determined respectability – not to mention her close contact with the local constabulary - will be highly effective in deterring unwanted callers.

And so, for now, farewell……….

WHAT A SNIP!

Another from Ben:

This guy  goes into a shop in Tel Aviv after looking at all the watches in the shop window.

"I'd like to buy a watch, please."

"But this isn't a watch store," says the owner. "I'm a moyel.  I do circumcisions."

"But...., but..., but...," says the guy, "what about all those watches in the front window?"

Says the owner, "And just what would you have me put there?"

HEAVENLY CHUCKLES

ben trovato's latest gleanings:

A man died and went to heaven.

As he stood in front of St. Peter at the Pearly Gates, he saw a huge wall
of clocks behind him.

He asked, "What are all those clocks?"

St. Peter answered, "Those are Lie-Clocks. Everyone on Earth has a 
Lie-Clock.

"Every time you lie, the hands on your clock will move."

"Oh," said the man, "whose clock is that?"

"That's Mother Teresa's. The hands have never moved, indicating
she never told a lie."

"Incredible," said the man. "And whose clock is that one?"

St. Peter responded, "That's Abraham Lincoln's clock. The hands have
moved twice, telling us that Abe told only two lies in his entire Life."

"Where's President Bush's clock ?" asked the man.

"That's in Jesus' office...... He's using it as a ceiling fan"

                +              +              +              +

Hitler dies and goes to heaven.

Jesus greets him at the Pearly Gates and says

“Sorry, but I can't let you in.”

“Why not?” asks Hitler.

“Well”, Jesus replies, “Its all the people you've murdered.
Let’s face it, you haven't exactly been a model human have you?”

 “Well no”, Hitler admits, “But if you let me in, I'll give you the
Iron Cross.”

“It's tempting”, says Jesus, “let me go and see what my Dada says”.

Jesus goes to God and relates the story.

God says, “So what do you want to do?”

“Well”, answers Jesus, “I want to let him in. He will give me the
Iron Cross.”

God quickly replies

“You had enough difficulty carrying the wooden one!”

CRAFTY CHAMBERMAID REQUIRED

Ben Trovato has just learned that among the National Trust's 230,000 volumes scattered around the libraries of England's stately homes nestles a "racy little 1770s tome" entitled 'THE CRAFTY CHAMBERMAID'S GARLAND'.

This has given him the notion that a Crafty Chambermaid would be an adornment to the Burrow, and doubtless much appreciated by Dame Barbara, Miss Marple, and others. [Not to mention Ben and the Beadle. How this would go down with Mrs Malaprop remains to be seen.]

The search has therefore commenced for a suitably comely and well-qualified wench.

Watch this space.

IN THE GENTS ROOM

ben trovato thanks Gummihund and Yankee Doodle for pointing out this one:


I was barely sitting down when I heard a voice from the other stall saying: "Hi, how are you?"

I'm not the type to start a conversation in the restroom but I don't know what got into me, so I answered, somewhat embarrassed, "Doin' just fine!"

And the other person says: "So what are you up to?"

What kind of question is that? At that point, I'm thinking this is too bizarre so I say: "Uhhh, I'm like you, just traveling!"

At this point I am just trying to get out as fast as I can when I hear another question. "Can I come over?"

Ok, this question is just too weird for me but I figured I could just be polite and end the conversation. I tell him "No.......I'm a little busy right now!!!"

Then I hear the person say nervously... "Listen, I'll have to call you back. There's an idiot in the other stall who keeps answering all my questions!"