Off To See The Wild West Show Part 1, Chapter 6 (3/6) By Frank Beill 1886: Hull, Yorkshire

(1/6), (2/6), (3/6), (4/6), (5/6), (6/6). Part 1 Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20. Part 2 Prologue, Chapter 1, 2, 3.

'Don't you want that?' George was almost at the end of his portion. Mine was hardly touched. I was oblivious of time ... reality ... everything. I was startled back into the real world. I dug in my spoon and lifted a large chunk of meat. It hovered halfway between the mug and my mouth. I lapsed into another daydream. 'If you don't want that, I can find a home for it.' George was soaking up the last of his stew with a thick slab of crust, which he was scraping around the bottom of his mug.

The meat went into my mouth and I chewed dreamily. 'Anyone for seconds?' Mrs G's voice called from somewhere in the distance, somewhere across the wide prairie beyond a herd of grazing bison. George shot out of his seat, faster than a whippet to beat the horde of thirty or so other boys who all wanted more of the feast of the week. Seconds were unusual, especially when it was a stew day. I was normally neck and neck with George to be first for any extras, but today I was riding the open range, alongside a tall man clad in buckskin with golden hair flowing in the breeze.

'That's less than two weeks' time!' My words spurted out and echoed off the playground walls. Sal was with us now after finishing her work in the kitchen. 'There's going to be a parade through the streets of Hull.' Sal added more colour to her information. 'Cowboys. Red Indians. Buffaloes. Everything.'

'And the Sultan of Turkey as well ... riding on an elephant!' George was still not convinced of the truth of the butcher boy's story. I pulled an angry face in his direction. 'Why would Buffalo Bill come to Hull? Don't make no sense!' George was adamant and difficult though it was I admitted to myself there was no sensible answer his question.

'He is, George Smith an' that's all there is to it!' A stiff finger prodded George's chest. Sal could be even more adamant. What people say about red hair and a fiery temperament going together was true in the case of the Smith twins, especially when they were arguing with each other. 'We'll have to ask somebody else!' I interrupted this latest confrontation. 'Somebody who'll know the truth. Somebody who reads a newspaper.' 'That's right!' Sal's lips pursed angrily. 'Then we'll see who's telling the truth!'

'Does Mrs G read the newspaper?' I asked. Hopefully my best adult friend - my only adult friend - would be the person to resolve the squabble. 'She only reads it after the Master and Jolly have finished with it, just afore she uses it to start the fire.' Sal shrugged. 'Don't usually come to her for a week.' I gasped. 'A week! Can't wait a week!' 'It'll have to be the Master or Jolly Rodgers then.' George nodded firmly. 'There's got to be somebody else.' I really did not fancy approaching either of George's suggestions. Both Sal and George shook their heads. There were no alternatives.

Continued Next Page

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