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By the pool


Passing one of aunt Humperdink’s pools, I stop to add some of Juan’s Special Reserve to the water, to keep the fish happy and healthy, when, to the sound of fish leaping around in a befuddled frenzy, we hear someone playing a maypole dance by Arthur Woods, the irritating one that goes, ‘tum-te, tum-te, tum-te tum, tum-te, tum-te, tum-tum’, and Cyril turns up, playing a horn. To drown him out, I whip out the bagpipes and play an air by Fernando Carulli, everyone looks pained, but I always expect that reaction to the miserable compositions of that half-witted sap, and quickly strike up ‘Highland Lassie’, a full-blooded reel that stirs the spirit, and we dance the reel like maniacs, until we fall into the pool.

Professor Humperdink’s Diary