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1.
What should we do? said Withers.
No idea, said Mathers.
Where should we go then? said Withers.
Haven’t got the foggiest, said Mathers.
The two men bowed their heads and stared into the canal’s murky water.
What we need is a quest, said Withers.
I believe you speak the truth, said Mathers.
Something to get our blood racing, said Withers. Something that re-ignites our spirit of adventure.
Never has a truer word been spoken, said Mathers.
How about ... (Withers delved a hand into his overcoat pocket.) How about … I flick this here penny? Heads we go right, tails we go left.
What a prestigious idea, said Mathers.
You think so? said Withers.
I do, I do, said Mathers.
Withers flicked the penny into the air, caught it, then slapped it down onto the back of his left hand, as is custom.
Tails, said Withers.
Then left we go, said Mathers.
And they did, side by side.
2.
It was a perfect mid-autumn day. God had combed the sky with the finest white hair. Leaves lay everywhere. The air was crisp and fresh. The breeze was nothing more than a pleasantly chilled zephyr.
The two men strode along the canal’s towpath. Withers had a cane, Mathers a hat. Withers had a red nose, so did Mathers. Withers had a grizzled beard, Mathers had a strange moustache. Both wore overcoats and brown trousers, fingerless gloves and big old boots. As they walked along the towpath the ghosts of mallard ducks followed them from the murky waters.
What we should do is this, said Withers. One, we should keep walking at exactly this speed. (Mathers agreed.) Two, when we arrive at a bridge, which we inevitably will, we should traverse it to the other side of the canal. (Mathers nodded.) Three, on the other side we should seek out a house, an isolated house, perhaps home to an old biddy, and by means as yet unknown to us we should gain entry and pilfer from therein two items, one each. Both items must be of a light weight, and when we have fled the house, which we have yet to locate, we should return to the bridge, which we have yet to cross, and when there we should play a simple game of pooh-sticks with the two items pilfered from the house. Whoever wins the game of pooh-sticks buys the drinks at the pub.
What pub? said Mathers.
I don’t know, said Withers, but there’s always a pub. This is England for goodness sake! There’s never one far away.
Right you are, said Mathers. This is England, there’s always a pub.
Always, said Withers. If one thing is certain, it is that there is always a pub.
In England, said Mathers.
Bloody England, said Withers.
It’s always so cold, said Mathers.
Cold bloody England, said Withers.
I hate it, said Mathers.
So do I, said Withers. So do I.
Look! said Mathers.
Where? said Withers.
A bridge, said Mathers pointing.
Aha, said Withers, let us traverse it.
And they did, side by side.
3.
On the other side of the canal, the two men found a path flanked by nettles and tall grass and scruffy whatnot.
This is going to be our best quest yet, said Withers.
I doubt your statement, said Mathers.
Why say that? said Withers.
Nothing can beat the castle quest, said Mathers.
I understand your rebuttal, said Withers.
The castle quest was beyond compare and will never be beaten, said Mathers.
Indeed, said Withers. I fear your words are eternally true. Just how you absconded with that suit-of-armour without being seen is still a mystery to me.
It was heavy, said Mathers.
Withers looked at Mathers: But did you really need to put it all on? he said. The breastplate, the helm, the greaves and the gauntlets? You even took the shield and the sword.
It was the only way, said Mathers.
Why do you say that? said Withers.
I tried to lift the whole thing but it fell apart, said Mathers, so rather than put it all back together, I put it on.
What a risk-taker you are! cried Withers.
They laughed, out of all proportion. Withers had to take out his hanky to wipe away tears and blow his nose. A trumping sound emanated from his hairy nostrils. The two men split their sides even more, out of all proportion
4.
The path flanked by nettles and tall grass and scruffy whatnot led the adventurers to a muddy field.
What on earth is this, said Withers.
A dead-end? said Mathers.
I fear you may be correct, said Withers.
And look, said Mathers.
The two men gazed with curled lips.
Cows, said Mathers..
We do not like cows, said Withers.
We don’t, said Mathers.
Nor sheep, said Withers.
Nor pigs, said Mathers.
Nor goats, said Withers.
Nor ostriches or llamas, said Mathers.
Why is that? said Withers.
I have no idea, said Mathers.
There must be a reason for our dislike of the beasts of the field, said Withers.
I haven’t the foggiest, said Mathers.
And the mud, said Withers.
A bloody disgrace, said Mathers.
And just look at the cowpats, said Withers.
For the love of God, said Mathers.
From the border of the field the two men stared at the cows and the mud and the steaming cowpats. The sun passed behind gathering clouds.
Rain, said Mathers.
The son of a b***h, said Withers.
And no sign of an isolated house, said Mathers.
It’s over, said Withers.
So soon? said Mathers.
Faced with this muddy sh-t field and that brooding bovine herd, said Withers, I fear our quest has failed.
Mathers put a hand behind his neck: But surely--
No buts or shirlies, said Withers. Our quest is dead. We cannot fight fate!
So this is the end, said Mathers.
Spits and spots of rain descended from the blackening sky. A cow moo’d.
Withers placed a hand on Mathers’ shoulder. We should retrace our steps, he said. We should retreat with dignity and our heads held high.
Mathers sighed. In the circumstances, he said, I think it’s the wise thing to do.
Shall we go, said Withers.
Let’s, said Mathers.
And they did, side by side.
What should we do? said Withers.
No idea, said Mathers.
Where should we go then? said Withers.
Haven’t got the foggiest, said Mathers.
The two men bowed their heads and stared into the canal’s murky water.
What we need is a quest, said Withers.
I believe you speak the truth, said Mathers.
Something to get our blood racing, said Withers. Something that re-ignites our spirit of adventure.
Never has a truer word been spoken, said Mathers.
How about ... (Withers delved a hand into his overcoat pocket.) How about … I flick this here penny? Heads we go right, tails we go left.
What a prestigious idea, said Mathers.
You think so? said Withers.
I do, I do, said Mathers.
Withers flicked the penny into the air, caught it, then slapped it down onto the back of his left hand, as is custom.
Tails, said Withers.
Then left we go, said Mathers.
And they did, side by side.
2.
It was a perfect mid-autumn day. God had combed the sky with the finest white hair. Leaves lay everywhere. The air was crisp and fresh. The breeze was nothing more than a pleasantly chilled zephyr.
The two men strode along the canal’s towpath. Withers had a cane, Mathers a hat. Withers had a red nose, so did Mathers. Withers had a grizzled beard, Mathers had a strange moustache. Both wore overcoats and brown trousers, fingerless gloves and big old boots. As they walked along the towpath the ghosts of mallard ducks followed them from the murky waters.
What we should do is this, said Withers. One, we should keep walking at exactly this speed. (Mathers agreed.) Two, when we arrive at a bridge, which we inevitably will, we should traverse it to the other side of the canal. (Mathers nodded.) Three, on the other side we should seek out a house, an isolated house, perhaps home to an old biddy, and by means as yet unknown to us we should gain entry and pilfer from therein two items, one each. Both items must be of a light weight, and when we have fled the house, which we have yet to locate, we should return to the bridge, which we have yet to cross, and when there we should play a simple game of pooh-sticks with the two items pilfered from the house. Whoever wins the game of pooh-sticks buys the drinks at the pub.
What pub? said Mathers.
I don’t know, said Withers, but there’s always a pub. This is England for goodness sake! There’s never one far away.
Right you are, said Mathers. This is England, there’s always a pub.
Always, said Withers. If one thing is certain, it is that there is always a pub.
In England, said Mathers.
Bloody England, said Withers.
It’s always so cold, said Mathers.
Cold bloody England, said Withers.
I hate it, said Mathers.
So do I, said Withers. So do I.
Look! said Mathers.
Where? said Withers.
A bridge, said Mathers pointing.
Aha, said Withers, let us traverse it.
And they did, side by side.
3.
On the other side of the canal, the two men found a path flanked by nettles and tall grass and scruffy whatnot.
This is going to be our best quest yet, said Withers.
I doubt your statement, said Mathers.
Why say that? said Withers.
Nothing can beat the castle quest, said Mathers.
I understand your rebuttal, said Withers.
The castle quest was beyond compare and will never be beaten, said Mathers.
Indeed, said Withers. I fear your words are eternally true. Just how you absconded with that suit-of-armour without being seen is still a mystery to me.
It was heavy, said Mathers.
Withers looked at Mathers: But did you really need to put it all on? he said. The breastplate, the helm, the greaves and the gauntlets? You even took the shield and the sword.
It was the only way, said Mathers.
Why do you say that? said Withers.
I tried to lift the whole thing but it fell apart, said Mathers, so rather than put it all back together, I put it on.
What a risk-taker you are! cried Withers.
They laughed, out of all proportion. Withers had to take out his hanky to wipe away tears and blow his nose. A trumping sound emanated from his hairy nostrils. The two men split their sides even more, out of all proportion
4.
The path flanked by nettles and tall grass and scruffy whatnot led the adventurers to a muddy field.
What on earth is this, said Withers.
A dead-end? said Mathers.
I fear you may be correct, said Withers.
And look, said Mathers.
The two men gazed with curled lips.
Cows, said Mathers..
We do not like cows, said Withers.
We don’t, said Mathers.
Nor sheep, said Withers.
Nor pigs, said Mathers.
Nor goats, said Withers.
Nor ostriches or llamas, said Mathers.
Why is that? said Withers.
I have no idea, said Mathers.
There must be a reason for our dislike of the beasts of the field, said Withers.
I haven’t the foggiest, said Mathers.
And the mud, said Withers.
A bloody disgrace, said Mathers.
And just look at the cowpats, said Withers.
For the love of God, said Mathers.
From the border of the field the two men stared at the cows and the mud and the steaming cowpats. The sun passed behind gathering clouds.
Rain, said Mathers.
The son of a b***h, said Withers.
And no sign of an isolated house, said Mathers.
It’s over, said Withers.
So soon? said Mathers.
Faced with this muddy sh-t field and that brooding bovine herd, said Withers, I fear our quest has failed.
Mathers put a hand behind his neck: But surely--
No buts or shirlies, said Withers. Our quest is dead. We cannot fight fate!
So this is the end, said Mathers.
Spits and spots of rain descended from the blackening sky. A cow moo’d.
Withers placed a hand on Mathers’ shoulder. We should retrace our steps, he said. We should retreat with dignity and our heads held high.
Mathers sighed. In the circumstances, he said, I think it’s the wise thing to do.
Shall we go, said Withers.
Let’s, said Mathers.
And they did, side by side.
Fascinating characters. I didn't want their quest to come to an end as such. I wanted them to interact with another character, such as the promised old biddy.
This SSC seems to have brought out the odd in everyone.
1.
What should we do? said Withers.
No idea, said Mathers.
Where should we go then? said Withers.
Haven’t got the foggiest, said Mathers.
The two men bowed their heads and stared into the canal’s murky water.
What we need is a quest, said Withers.
I believe you speak the truth, said Mathers.
Something to get our blood racing, said Withers. Something that re-ignites our spirit of adventure.
Never has a truer word been spoken, said Mathers.
How about ... (Withers delved a hand into his overcoat pocket.) How about … I flick this here penny? Heads we go right, tails we go left.
What a prestigious idea, said Mathers.
You think so? said Withers.
I do, I do, said Mathers.
Withers flicked the penny into the air, caught it, then slapped it down onto the back of his left hand, as is custom.
Tails, said Withers.
Then left we go, said Mathers.
And they did, side by side.
2.
It was a perfect mid-autumn day. God had combed the sky with the finest white hair. Leaves lay everywhere. The air was crisp and fresh. The breeze was nothing more than a pleasantly chilled zephyr.
The two men strode along the canal’s towpath. Withers had a cane, Mathers a hat. Withers had a red nose, so did Mathers. Withers had a grizzled beard, Mathers had a strange moustache. Both wore overcoats and brown trousers, fingerless gloves and big old boots. As they walked along the towpath the ghosts of mallard ducks followed them from the murky waters.
What we should do is this, said Withers. One, we should keep walking at exactly this speed. (Mathers agreed.) Two, when we arrive at a bridge, which we inevitably will, we should traverse it to the other side of the canal. (Mathers nodded.) Three, on the other side we should seek out a house, an isolated house, perhaps home to an old biddy, and by means as yet unknown to us we should gain entry and pilfer from therein two items, one each. Both items must be of a light weight, and when we have fled the house, which we have yet to locate, we should return to the bridge, which we have yet to cross, and when there we should play a simple game of pooh-sticks with the two items pilfered from the house. Whoever wins the game of pooh-sticks buys the drinks at the pub.
What pub? said Mathers.
I don’t know, said Withers, but there’s always a pub. This is England for goodness sake! There’s never one far away.
Right you are, said Mathers. This is England, there’s always a pub.
Always, said Withers. If one thing is certain, it is that there is always a pub.
In England, said Mathers.
Bloody England, said Withers.
It’s always so cold, said Mathers.
Cold bloody England, said Withers.
I hate it, said Mathers.
So do I, said Withers. So do I.
Look! said Mathers.
Where? said Withers.
A bridge, said Mathers pointing.
Aha, said Withers, let us traverse it.
And they did, side by side.
3.
On the other side of the canal, the two men found a path flanked by nettles and tall grass and scruffy whatnot.
This is going to be our best quest yet, said Withers.
I doubt your statement, said Mathers.
Why say that? said Withers.
Nothing can beat the castle quest, said Mathers.
I understand your rebuttal, said Withers.
The castle quest was beyond compare and will never be beaten, said Mathers.
Indeed, said Withers. I fear your words are eternally true. Just how you absconded with that suit-of-armour without being seen is still a mystery to me.
It was heavy, said Mathers.
Withers looked at Mathers: But did you really need to put it all on? he said. The breastplate, the helm, the greaves and the gauntlets? You even took the shield and the sword.
It was the only way, said Mathers.
Why do you say that? said Withers.
I tried to lift the whole thing but it fell apart, said Mathers, so rather than put it all back together, I put it on.
What a risk-taker you are! cried Withers.
They laughed, out of all proportion. Withers had to take out his hanky to wipe away tears and blow his nose. A trumping sound emanated from his hairy nostrils. The two men split their sides even more, out of all proportion
4.
The path flanked by nettles and tall grass and scruffy whatnot led the adventurers to a muddy field.
What on earth is this, said Withers.
A dead-end? said Mathers.
I fear you may be correct, said Withers.
And look, said Mathers.
The two men gazed with curled lips.
Cows, said Mathers..
We do not like cows, said Withers.
We don’t, said Mathers.
Nor sheep, said Withers.
Nor pigs, said Mathers.
Nor goats, said Withers.
Nor ostriches or llamas, said Mathers.
Why is that? said Withers.
I have no idea, said Mathers.
There must be a reason for our dislike of the beasts of the field, said Withers.
I haven’t the foggiest, said Mathers.
And the mud, said Withers.
A bloody disgrace, said Mathers.
And just look at the cowpats, said Withers.
For the love of God, said Mathers.
From the border of the field the two men stared at the cows and the mud and the steaming cowpats. The sun passed behind gathering clouds.
Rain, said Mathers.
The son of a b***h, said Withers.
And no sign of an isolated house, said Mathers.
It’s over, said Withers.
So soon? said Mathers.
Faced with this muddy sh-t field and that brooding bovine herd, said Withers, I fear our quest has failed.
Mathers put a hand behind his neck: But surely--
No buts or shirlies, said Withers. Our quest is dead. We cannot fight fate!
So this is the end, said Mathers.
Spits and spots of rain descended from the blackening sky. A cow moo’d.
Withers placed a hand on Mathers’ shoulder. We should retrace our steps, he said. We should retreat with dignity and our heads held high.
Mathers sighed. In the circumstances, he said, I think it’s the wise thing to do.
Shall we go, said Withers.
Let’s, said Mathers.
And they did, side by side.
What should we do? said Withers.
No idea, said Mathers.
Where should we go then? said Withers.
Haven’t got the foggiest, said Mathers.
The two men bowed their heads and stared into the canal’s murky water.
What we need is a quest, said Withers.
I believe you speak the truth, said Mathers.
Something to get our blood racing, said Withers. Something that re-ignites our spirit of adventure.
Never has a truer word been spoken, said Mathers.
How about ... (Withers delved a hand into his overcoat pocket.) How about … I flick this here penny? Heads we go right, tails we go left.
What a prestigious idea, said Mathers.
You think so? said Withers.
I do, I do, said Mathers.
Withers flicked the penny into the air, caught it, then slapped it down onto the back of his left hand, as is custom.
Tails, said Withers.
Then left we go, said Mathers.
And they did, side by side.
2.
It was a perfect mid-autumn day. God had combed the sky with the finest white hair. Leaves lay everywhere. The air was crisp and fresh. The breeze was nothing more than a pleasantly chilled zephyr.
The two men strode along the canal’s towpath. Withers had a cane, Mathers a hat. Withers had a red nose, so did Mathers. Withers had a grizzled beard, Mathers had a strange moustache. Both wore overcoats and brown trousers, fingerless gloves and big old boots. As they walked along the towpath the ghosts of mallard ducks followed them from the murky waters.
What we should do is this, said Withers. One, we should keep walking at exactly this speed. (Mathers agreed.) Two, when we arrive at a bridge, which we inevitably will, we should traverse it to the other side of the canal. (Mathers nodded.) Three, on the other side we should seek out a house, an isolated house, perhaps home to an old biddy, and by means as yet unknown to us we should gain entry and pilfer from therein two items, one each. Both items must be of a light weight, and when we have fled the house, which we have yet to locate, we should return to the bridge, which we have yet to cross, and when there we should play a simple game of pooh-sticks with the two items pilfered from the house. Whoever wins the game of pooh-sticks buys the drinks at the pub.
What pub? said Mathers.
I don’t know, said Withers, but there’s always a pub. This is England for goodness sake! There’s never one far away.
Right you are, said Mathers. This is England, there’s always a pub.
Always, said Withers. If one thing is certain, it is that there is always a pub.
In England, said Mathers.
Bloody England, said Withers.
It’s always so cold, said Mathers.
Cold bloody England, said Withers.
I hate it, said Mathers.
So do I, said Withers. So do I.
Look! said Mathers.
Where? said Withers.
A bridge, said Mathers pointing.
Aha, said Withers, let us traverse it.
And they did, side by side.
3.
On the other side of the canal, the two men found a path flanked by nettles and tall grass and scruffy whatnot.
This is going to be our best quest yet, said Withers.
I doubt your statement, said Mathers.
Why say that? said Withers.
Nothing can beat the castle quest, said Mathers.
I understand your rebuttal, said Withers.
The castle quest was beyond compare and will never be beaten, said Mathers.
Indeed, said Withers. I fear your words are eternally true. Just how you absconded with that suit-of-armour without being seen is still a mystery to me.
It was heavy, said Mathers.
Withers looked at Mathers: But did you really need to put it all on? he said. The breastplate, the helm, the greaves and the gauntlets? You even took the shield and the sword.
It was the only way, said Mathers.
Why do you say that? said Withers.
I tried to lift the whole thing but it fell apart, said Mathers, so rather than put it all back together, I put it on.
What a risk-taker you are! cried Withers.
They laughed, out of all proportion. Withers had to take out his hanky to wipe away tears and blow his nose. A trumping sound emanated from his hairy nostrils. The two men split their sides even more, out of all proportion
4.
The path flanked by nettles and tall grass and scruffy whatnot led the adventurers to a muddy field.
What on earth is this, said Withers.
A dead-end? said Mathers.
I fear you may be correct, said Withers.
And look, said Mathers.
The two men gazed with curled lips.
Cows, said Mathers..
We do not like cows, said Withers.
We don’t, said Mathers.
Nor sheep, said Withers.
Nor pigs, said Mathers.
Nor goats, said Withers.
Nor ostriches or llamas, said Mathers.
Why is that? said Withers.
I have no idea, said Mathers.
There must be a reason for our dislike of the beasts of the field, said Withers.
I haven’t the foggiest, said Mathers.
And the mud, said Withers.
A bloody disgrace, said Mathers.
And just look at the cowpats, said Withers.
For the love of God, said Mathers.
From the border of the field the two men stared at the cows and the mud and the steaming cowpats. The sun passed behind gathering clouds.
Rain, said Mathers.
The son of a b***h, said Withers.
And no sign of an isolated house, said Mathers.
It’s over, said Withers.
So soon? said Mathers.
Faced with this muddy sh-t field and that brooding bovine herd, said Withers, I fear our quest has failed.
Mathers put a hand behind his neck: But surely--
No buts or shirlies, said Withers. Our quest is dead. We cannot fight fate!
So this is the end, said Mathers.
Spits and spots of rain descended from the blackening sky. A cow moo’d.
Withers placed a hand on Mathers’ shoulder. We should retrace our steps, he said. We should retreat with dignity and our heads held high.
Mathers sighed. In the circumstances, he said, I think it’s the wise thing to do.
Shall we go, said Withers.
Let’s, said Mathers.
And they did, side by side.