A Happy New Year
to all my Readers
In shutting up shop on the Sibley Blog for the holiday season, I leave you with the text of an little radio entertainment which, thirty years ago, I wrote for Miss Penelope Keith.
Various versions of this script have been circulating on the Internet for some while, but they are all incomplete - being transcribed, presumably, from edited versions of the programme.
Here, then, is the full sorry tale, illustrated with photographs of this year's fabulous window displays from the Piccadilly emporium of Messrs Fortnum and Mason.
So, enjoy -- and ponder its message as you wrap - and unwrap - your Christmas gifts!
A Cautionary Tale for Christmas Showing
that it is Better to Give than to Receive
by Brian Sibley
How can I begin to thank you for your charming Christmas gift? What luxury! My very own pear tree, with that dear little pheasant in it - or is it supposed to be a partridge? You really are a foolish boy! Actually, the birdie isn't wildly attractive, but the pear tree should be lovely - when pears are in season again.
Thank you, my darling.
All my love - forever.
Your ownest affectionate,
You are quite impossible, my love. The turtle doves are adorable! They're already cooing away like anything; and, I must say, their amorous behavior leaves very little to the imagination. But I expect they will settle down in time.
Thank you, my sweeting.
PS: I almost forgot to thank you for the second partridge-in-pear-tree thing: it balances up the other side of the fireplace so nicely.
You know, poppet, you are simply going too, too far! Your latest gift has just been delivered: what an imaginative boy you are to think of sending me something as unusual as three French hens.
I'm only sorry that I hadn't told you that I am allergic to eggs. Never mind I can always sell some to the neighbours who, incidentally, have been much entertained by the sight of the postman struggling along each morning with the pear trees.
I suppose it's silly of me, but I am seriously beginning to wonder whether you aren't trying to get me to start an aviary. Your four 'colly birds' have just arrived and could, more aptly, be described as 'call-y birds', since that is what they seem to do best! Perhaps you could let me know whether colly birds are in the laying business or whether they are intended for human consumption; Mrs Beeton is, I find, surprisingly silent on the matter.
I can honestly say, Algernon, that I'd always thought birds were rather pleasant little creatures,
until you gave me this opportunity of observing them at such close quarters.
PS: I do hope you got a reasonable discount on all the pear trees.
Thank you for your latest gift of five curtain rings, a somewhat curious present but, nevertheless, a refreshing change from all those very pretty, but somewhat noisy, birds you will keep sending me.
I doubt if I should have bought so large a turkey for Christmas had I known what you had in mind. Could we ease up a bit on the fowl, do you think?
I see we are back with the birds again! Your six geese a-laying have just arrived, and are happily doing so for all they're worth. I rather thought I'd mentioned to you how it was with me and eggs...
Thank you for putting me right about the curtain rings - I never could tell the difference between brass and gold. Of course, I am very pleased that you should have thought of sending me another five, just so that I have one for every finger. But as I now have more hens, doves and partridges than I rightly know how to cope with, and as they aren't too fussy about personal hygiene, I seldom seem to have my hands out of a bucket of water long enough to try them on!
Dear Mr Fotherington-Smythe,
I have just succeeded in accommodating your seven swans a-swimming in my bath - which was no mean achievement when one considers the number of pear trees on the landing!
Regrettably, the geese got to the rings before I could, so that's probably the last we've seen of them - would I could say the same for the geese!
I must now ask you to desist from sending me any more of these well-intentioned but slightly impracticable gifts.
PS: I hadn't realised just how messy moulting partridges can be, or how badly they seem to get on in captivity with other birds.
Fresh milk is one thing, eight enormous Friesians in the drawing room is something else altogether!
True, the milkmaids have a certain rustic charm, but you wouldn't believe how much they eat. You may also care to note that my bath has only so much room in it for swans with a seemingly insatiable urge to be a-swimming, and it will definitely not hold fourteen of them! Take that from one who has tried!
Please call a halt to this absurd behavior.
Miss Cynthia Bracegirdle
Thanks to your weird sense of humor, my house is now in utter chaos! As if it wasn't bad enough having sixteen cows producing milk by the gallon, we now have nine 'ladies' - as you amusingly call them - dancing here, there and everywhere, one of whom seems to be working out a somewhat extraordinary routine involving several doves and a goose!
The most charitable view I can take of your actions is that you are out of your tiny mind.
PACK IT IN!!
Miss C Bracegirdle
PS: Fortunately, one of the partridges has just drowned itself in a bucket of milk.
Your misguided generosity has apparently now led you to suppose that I could find some use for ten Lords a-leaping. They might lend a hand with cleaning up all the rancid milk and bird-lime - if they'd only stop leaping around after the dancing girls for five minutes!
I understand the entire neighborhood is now up in arms about it all and the Residents' Association has sent a petition to the local Member of Parliament.
Thumping on the front door at this precise moment are no less that two dozen representatives from various government bodies and from the Societies for the Prevention of Cruelty to hens, doves, geese, swans, cows, partridges and, for all I know, pear trees! And the bizarre inter-breeding amongst the birds is to be the subject of an article by a leading ornithologist in the next issue of Bird Monthly!
The recent outbreaks of crop-blight, fowl-pest and foot-and-mouth disease have now reached epidemic proportions; and if the antics I witnessed behind the pear trees this afternoon are anything to go by, several of the milkmaids should soon find themselves in, what polite society calls, an interesting condition.
For your information, I have now reached the end of my tether - which is more than can be said for those damn cows of yours!
C Bracegirdle (Miss)
Have you got even the remotest idea what eleven pipers piping sounds like at two o'clock in the morning? Of course, it only adds very slightly to the hideous cacophony of noise that I must now daily endure. I swear there's more mooing, cooing, honking, clucking and calling here than in the zoological gardens. If there were any room left, I might seriously consider opening the place to the public.
Your latest shipment of lords, ladies and livestock is now settled into the furore and by the same post came received a letter advising of a visit which the Minister of Agriculture and Fisheries intends to make this afternoon - supposing he can get in the door that is!
One good thing at least is that the latest influx of birds have put the cows off giving milk; I can hear them now - uprooting the pear trees in the orchard I once called a living room!
My landlord has taken out an eviction order against me, as he claims, somewhat surprisingly, that the terms of my lease do not cover utilisation of the premises as a menagerie, dancing school, smallholding or annex of the House of Lords.
PS: Please be advised that all future correspondence between us will be handled by my solicitors, Messrs Grabble, Twister and Fleecem.
(Off the Eastbourne Road)
You will no doubt be distressed to learn that, shortly after the arrival of these gentlemen, our client, in what must be described as a somewhat deranged state of mind, travelled to Eastbourne and threw herself off the top of Beachy Head.
Before taking this step, however, she left instructions with ourselves for the adding of a codicil to her Last Will and Testament, under which you become her sole beneficiary and legatee.
I am, therefore, arranging for the following items to be delivered to you later this day:
12 drummers drumming
22 pipers piping
30 lords a-leaping
36 ladies dancing
40 maids a-milking
42 swans a-swimming
42 geese a-laying
40 gold rings
36 colly birds
30 French hens
22 turtle doves
and 11 partridges with 12 accompanying pear trees.
With our sincere congratulations on your inheritance and assuring you of our best attention at all times,
Grabble, Twister and Fleecem
Here's to a WONDERFUL 2008!
Text and images: © Brian Sibley, 2007