Students of geography know that Ballybun is divided from the back
gardens of Kilterash by the pellucid waters of that noble stream, the
Bun, which hurls itself over a barrier of old tin-cans in a frantic
effort to find the sea. But they do not know that this physical
division, long ago bridged, is nothing to the moral and political
division which will keep the two for ever asunder.
Several of our younger citizens have written to me from the trenches
to ask how the War is progressing. I have usually in reply quoted the
remark of one of their number on leaving us for the Front after a
short holiday, that he was now looking forward to a little peace and
rest. I wish here to add a postscript to this concerning a recent
unexpected truce.
Political geography is not written as it should be, so that there may
be people who have not even heard of the Great War between Ballybun
and Kilterash. No one knows for certain when it started, or why. A
local antiquary, after prolonged study of chronicles, memorials, rolls
and records, to say nothing of local churchyards, refers it with some
confidence to the reign of HENRY II. (LOUIS VII. being King of France,
in the pontificate of ADRIAN IV. and so on), and to the forcible
abduction of a pig (called the White Pearl) by the then ruling monarch
of Kilterash. The Editor of _The Kilterash Curfew_, in one of his
recent "Readings for the Day of Rest," remarked that Christian charity
compelled him to hurl this foul aspersion back in the teeth of this
so-called antiquary; the whole world knew that the pig had been born
in the parish of Kilterash, but had "strayed" across the Bun, as
things too often had the habit of straying.
I am the "so-called antiquary." My little pamphlet proves in less
than three hundred pages the truth of my allegation concerning the
abduction of the White Pearl, giving the original texts on which I
rely and the genealogies of all concerned in a sordid story.
Since 1157, as far as history records, we have been afflicted with
only two periods of truce. One was when, on hearing of the foul wrong
done by the German Brute in Belgium, we united in enlisting recruits
for our local regiment. This truce was broken by my worthy friend, the
Editor of _The Curfew_, who pointed out, more in anger than in sorrow,
that Ballybun had sent six men fewer than Kilterash. The second
truce--again broken by the enemy--concerned myself. Wishing to add, if
possible, to the evidence from monuments contained in my pamphlet, I
was copying an inscription I had only just discovered in the disused
churchyard of Killyburnbrae, when one of these light Atlantic showers
sprang up and soaked me to the backbone. The result was influenza and
a high temperature, which rose while I was reading _The Curfew_ upon
my brochure, "_The White Pearl of Ballybun_, an Impartial Examination
with the Original Documents herein set out and now for the first time
deciphered by a Member of the Society of Antiquarians. Dedicated to
All Lovers of the Truth. Printed by the Ballybun Binnacle Press."
_The Curfew_ said of this fair statement of the evidence (with the
original documents, mind you) that it smacked of German scholarship
and their graveyard style of doing things. My blood boiled at this,
and to keep me cool my niece, who lives with me, pulled down all the
blinds, as the sun was strong.
An old fish-woman passing by saw this and said, "Well, well, the poor
old fellow's gone at last! A decent man in his time, with no taste in
fish! We must all come to it." From her the news spread forty miles
on either side of her and reached the Editor of _The Curfew_ in the
middle of a philippic. Next morning I was astounded to read in his
editorial columns: "Our distinguished neighbour and friend--if he will
allow us to call him so--is now no more; in other words is gone ... as
VIRGIL remarks ... famous antiquarian ... scrupulous and methodical,
and, as we remarked in our last issue, reminiscent of the palmy days
of the best German monumental scholarship ... our slight differences
never affected the esteem in which we held him as a patriot, citizen,
ratepayer and Man...."
Now this was kindly and fair. I have written to my worthy friend and
have proposed to dedicate to him my forthcoming work (non-partisan) on
the "Slant Observable in Some Church-Spires, Part I." When he had to
unbury me, war had to be resumed--it was his side that insisted upon
it--but as far as the two chieftains are concerned it is a war without
bitterness. He now introduces his attacks with "Our honoured and able
antiquarian friend"; while my answers breathe such sentiments as "The
genial editor of that well-conducted organ."
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[Illustration: FOOD VALUES IN OUR RESTAURANTS.
_Customer._ "WHAT DO YOU SUGGEST FOR TO-DAY, MISS?"
_Waitress_ (_late of Girton_). "WELL, SIR, ROAST MUTTON, TWO
VEGETABLES AND SWEETS WILL GIVE YOU THE NECESSARY PROTEIN, CALORIES
AND CARBO-HYDRATES."]
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