tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4508374680487030801.post2835718438609248354..comments2024-03-28T09:49:29.979+00:00Comments on Eccles is saved: What ho, James!Eccleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00357168852208499013noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4508374680487030801.post-71570092996705154592019-10-29T22:31:46.844+00:002019-10-29T22:31:46.844+00:00Bergie started from his spot of shut-eye to see Bi...Bergie started from his spot of shut-eye to see Bishop Roderick Spode towering over him. 'I hear you have acquired a rather disgusting statuette of Miss Madeleine Basset', he snarled. 'I have only to lift my little finger to summon an elite squad of Blackshorts who will hurl the wretched monstrosity into the Tiber - and you with it!' Bergie trembled, but as was his usual way, he managed to avert a nasty incident with a friendly gesture - well, it worked with the Chinese - and promptly offered the Fascist bishop a red hat. This seemed to do the trick, and as Spode retreated with an engimatic smile, Bergie sat down to write a stern rebuke addressed to the forthcoming deputation of hairdressers, librarians and stamp collectors, warning them of the dangers of gossip and backbiting - especially about him and his louche habits. Then off to the Drones Club for a quick snifter of whisky and a bun fight - well, a Pope's life is not all beer and skittles you know! There was also the delicate but necessary task of dropping heavy hints to atheist journalists on the subject of rigid hairdresser types dunking idols - that is, ecologically sustainable sacred objects - in the river. Mind you, perhaps he could drop a few discreet hints to WHOEVER DID IT on the subject of a certain Aunt Dahlia...Chestertoniannhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00622270949984588126noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4508374680487030801.post-20002077942071152292019-10-29T00:38:35.223+00:002019-10-29T00:38:35.223+00:00Such a perfect ditty. It explains it all.đSuch a perfect ditty. It explains it all.đAnonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07246291964541426863noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4508374680487030801.post-6525812437190219102019-10-28T20:05:49.882+00:002019-10-28T20:05:49.882+00:00Bergie Wooster's Tune
Now there's a good ...Bergie Wooster's Tune<br /><br />Now there's a good ship<br />H.M.S. Cock-Robin<br />On her Rome trip<br />Up and down she's bobbin'<br />So the crew's pretty tough<br />The weather's so rough<br />They're all fed up with doctrine<br />They've had more than enough.<br /> <br />I've got a Jesuit, he's an able valet<br />And they call him Baldhead James---<br />I wire to say I'll meet you<br />And with our pals I'll treat you<br />So whoâd you think I've had a message from?<br /> <br />Forty-seven ginger-headed Cardinals<br />Sail to Rome across the briney sea,<br />When the anchor's weighed<br />And the deal is made<br />Cocco will start the party with a heave-ho, me-hearty.<br />Finale:<br />A dean from down in Devon, said my idea of heaven<br />Is forty-seven ginger-headed Cardinals!<br />Lady Jane Perduehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02816304333109576404noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4508374680487030801.post-37391359755829693612019-10-28T19:37:53.348+00:002019-10-28T19:37:53.348+00:00My new valet James, having laid out the rainbow ve...My new valet James, having laid out the rainbow vestments for my dayâs toil as a globalist icon, woke me with my morning Traidcraft coffee - and some news not without import.<br /><br />âYour Aunt Agatha has been on the phone, sir. She wishes to stay with you at Casa Santa Marta. Shall I prepare the Umble Suite?â<br /><br />âJames, you havenât met Aunt Agatha, have you? I think for the duration of her stay she had better occupy my apartments, and I shall remove to the Umble Suite. Ugh! No air conditioning - and eco-lightbulbs. Oh well, I suppose one must suffer for oneâs art. Erm, by the way, James, what did she have to say?â<br /><br />âThe telephone line from Buenos Aires was a little fuzzy, sir. But I may just have caught the words âblithering idiotâ and âapostasyâ.<br /><br />âO lordâŚ. time to execute Project Bunberry. You remember Bunberry, donât you? My imaginary friend. No, James, not God. An earthly imaginary friend. Itâs a subterfuge - I learnt this stuff from Peron. Come on, weâve trained for this, James. You know the drillâ.<br /><br />âAh, indeed, sir. Now I recall. I shall inform Aunt Agatha that you have been unavoidably detained at an ad limina meeting of the bishopsâ conference of Mongoliaâ.<br /><br />âPip-pip, James. And, have the rest of the day offâ.<br /><br />âThank you, sirâ.<br />DeHereticoComburendohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18033835681461582626noreply@blogger.com