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26.1.10

Bearded Tit




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After celebrating our imminent departure by upending our flasks of Vintage, Ardmore, Interleven, and Caperdonich Special Reserve and drinking toast after toast to the beauty of British birds, particularly their tits, we decide that it would be easier to lie down, and slump to the ground, stunned. I remind Juan and Archie that we can't lie around because aunt is expecting us in India, we are still lost, we don't know where the train station is, and we are humicubationally behind schedule. Archie says that he will paint a British bird, using just his beard, as an unusual present for aunt Humperdink. Juan says we should collect some British stone, for her temple. We tell Archie that we will go and look for some suitable stones and, leaving him to fumble around, smearing his beard with paint, helplessly trying to unfold his easel, and bellowing that he can't see anything worth painting, we blow up our bagpipes, play 'Stop Yer Tickling Jock', and stagger inland, as fast as we possibly can.

Professor Humperdink's Diary