click for thisisUll.com Home page.. click for thisisUll.com Forum... click for thisisUll.com Live Events...
  Sponsored Links


  Sponsored Links


  thisistheworld.com


  Friends


  Contributors Guide


Economist Style Guide.
Economist Style Guide.

  Contributors Guide

Learn to speak 'ULL

Fiction
Off To See The Wild West Show Part 1, Chapter 7 (2/2)
By Frank Beill
1886: Hull, Yorkshire
(1/2), (2/2).
Part 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.

Mr Thorne nodded towards Mrs G. Our surrogate mother was now placed in control of the feast. 'Take only one cake each. There may be enough for seconds when you have eaten the first,' she ordered.

The trick, of course, was to be at the front of the queue, get your cake and eat it quickly before slipping back to the tail end - but you must do this before there was any calculation of possible seconds. If one worked surreptitiously in this way it was possible to get three cakes.
It never worked for George and me because we were too noticeable, especially when Sal was involved. As always, she was at Mrs G's right hand helping to supervise children who were sometimes older than Sal herself.
We tucked into the cakes - mine was sweet apple - and our founder walked amongst us chaperoned by the Master. The other teachers were also present but kept at a discrete distance, making sure good order was maintained. The rule when anyone visited - and especially Mr Thorne - was not to speak unless spoken to but there was something I needed to discover. Our visitor must have been a man who would know the answer.
I edged towards Mr Thorne who continued walking around the room and talking to children. Full mouths made it difficult to reply. George looked puzzled by my strange perambulations; his attention was on the table and the remaining cakes. The time for Mrs G to call out 'seconds' was drawing nearer but we were moving further and further away from the food. I could understand why he was puzzled.
Finally, we converged on Mr Thorne's route and for once I was glad I stood out from the rest. 'And who might you be, young sir?' John Thorne's face expressed amusement. Was it because of my brown face?

'This is Samuel Smyle.' The Master didn't give me the opportunity to reply for myself.

'Are you making good use of your time in this fine home?' The self-satisfied smile told me he knew what my answer would be even before he asked the question.
I swallowed the last morsel of cake. 'Very good use, sir.' My reply was dutiful but before there was chance for him to either ask another question or move on to another sycophantic respondent, I continued speaking without drawing breath. 'Is it true that Buffalo Bill and his Wild West Show are coming to Hull, sir.'

At first, he seemed taken aback by my question. The Master scowled behind Mr Thorne's back. I was pleased Jolly Rodgers was well out of earshot.
Our visitor smiled. 'Yes, it is true and he is leaving Hull directly after the performance to return to America. He will be leaving on a fine ship, the Persian Monarch from Alexandra Dock. My company has been involved in making the arrangements for his departure.' The smile became a rather smug beam but it was what he was saying that was all-important to me.
He turned to the Master and spoke quietly. 'I would like to say something to all the children.'
The Master nodded his agreement and clapped his hands loudly to get everyone's attention. Silence fell and teeth stopped munching.

'Mr Thorne has something to say to you all.'
The thumbs of large hands went into a mustard yellow waistcoat and John Thorne stuck out his prosperity. The pose he adopted was that of a giant canary with the long tails of his black coat hanging behind him like wings and a tail.

'This young tyke here has asked me about Colonel William Cody. You may have heard of him as Buffalo Bill.'

My body sank into my suit. Was my summary dismissal by Jolly Rodgers the previous evening nothing but a rehearsal for a total public humiliation now?
'Well, I am pleased to tell you that he is coming to Hull with his Wild West Show and as is Colonel Cody's custom, thirty tickets have been set aside for scholars from this orphanage to attend his show!'

My heart leapt but then it sank. Only thirty could go. There was more than four times that number in our home. How could I be certain to be included in that select band?

Copyright © Frank Beill 2005
Continued Part 1, Chapter 8

Fiction - Welcome To Hellville - Part 7 By Rich Mills
I've pulled more stuff from the box-o-stuff. I now know that it belonged to someone called Alan Miro. It seems he was a student in Hellville over the end of last century. I've found diary entries, half finished essays, random rantings, emails, and all manner of fragmented files and documents that give me Read more...

Fiction - Second Chances by Nick Quantrill
Available now, Second Chances is a crime fiction novella set in Hull that is already attracting praise from readers. Influenced by crime fiction heavyweights Ian Rankin and Hull's Robert Edric, Second Chances is set to be a great success. For a taster, see the extract reproduced below, only available Read more...

Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 3 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
'Master Smyle! You have to take off all your clothes to have a bath!' The thick Scots accent of Mr Rodgers boomed in my ear. This man became the bane of my life. 'Jolly Rodgers' we children called him but the nickname came from the pirate flag - not from his sense of humour, if indeed he possessed one. Read more...

Fiction - Invasion By Bob Spence
Moody just couldn't stop scratching. His shirt was far too stiff at the edge of the collar and the coarse material was driving him to distraction. You could also say that Moody was distracted anyway. He was waiting for a letter from his fiancee and there was none. Read more...

Fiction - The Death and Birth and Death of a Legend
By Bob Spence
Goober liked to be busy. Some people could handle doing nothing, not Goober Walton. Running the tidy but ancient gasoline concession suited. Suited well. It was orderly and everything clearly had its place. Some would say it looked almost military in its order and for that it Read more...

Fiction - Feller's in Cut By Maurice Fairfield
Well that's her gone. You don't remember me do you? I'll have a pint while you're thinking about it. It's me Jack, Harry Fergus's son. Here for the funeral. Thought I'd see her get put under. Not sure why. It's always a laugh though, watching a parson doing a Read more...

Fiction - Kat Out of the Bag Chapter Nine By Steve Rudd
Life is a race against time, didn't you know? Sometimes I'm worn out by my own energy, but as we four walked first towards Langtang, right on through the cosy cluster of weather-beaten buildings and then so far past the village that even the strangely surreal Read more...

Fiction - Fishheads By Michelle Dee
Monstrous silver and blue -green severed fish heads emerged at the forefront of her mind. Open, close, open, close the gaping mouths. She fancied there were others behind it. Each time the razor sharp teeth were bared she looked into the blacker than Read more...

Fiction - Firm but Fair By Mark Pollard
Cry-Baby Jim Breaks. He pioneered it, they say. And the hushed, almost ecclesiastical tones of Ken Walton had heralded it's entry into Saturday afternoon folklore: the bright lights of Blackpool and Great Yarmouth, down to the lesser reputes of Ilfracombe and Skegness had all borne witness Read more...

Fiction - Puzzles By Denis Price
I've got a really nice room, when the door's closed I feel ever so safe and warm. It's quiet as well, just the swish of the wind in the trees outside. I like the trees; they hide the big tall fence. My watchers say the fence is there to keep me safe, and that's their job too, they're always there Read more...

Fiction - COLD WAR TALES- THE CUBAN MISSILE CRISIS
By Denis Price
The piercing insistent wail of the siren woke him. `For Christ`s sake now what!` Over the tannoy the smooth expensive voice intoned languidly that this was only a drill and that all personnel should continue with their normal duties. He groaned and thought, this is my normal Read more...

Fiction - Scrawls Of The Unexpected By Mark Pollard
Professor Colin Pillinger, lead scientist on the Beagle II programme, was calm but well pissed off inside. He had been clinging to the idea that his £35 million Mars Probe was stuck in a crater, waiting for some narrow rays of sunlight to banish the shade for a few precious hours each day in order that Read more...

Fiction - A Short Story - The Beaver Stalker By The J.E.M. Cult
I stepped out into the cold frosty air. I pulled my muffler tighter round my hands and crunched across the frozen grass. Today was the first day of the beaver season- and by golly, I was sure gonna get me one. I love beavers. I can't help it. There's just something about stroking that damp fur that sends me Read more...

Fiction - The Art Of Being Alone In A Crowded Bar By Rich Mills
What music are you into, man? The American exchange student who had earlier introduced himself, without any regard for Jean-Paul's need to be alone, suddenly threw a curve-ball of a question in his direction. Well I listen to... What followed was a definitive list of bands from Jean-Paul's wide ranging rare vinyl Read more...

  What's Happening?
Search          
  Chill Out
  About Us
  
  More...

Legal Disclaimer   Privacy Policy   Contact Us   Advertise Here     Top of Page.
The opinions expressed here are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the positions of www.thisisUll.com.
  Webmaster Comments?   © 2003 to 2008 www.thisisUll.com, All Rights Reserved.