Day 209, week 42: guinea pigs
Iâve mentioned meeting OldFatherTime in the past. Old law lord who Iâm not quite sure isnât a highlander whoâs been around for several hundred years. Well, saw him today walking past chambers.
âHello!â I piped up merrily. âHowâs the walking stick?â
Doh! Still pops into my head rather than some serious legal chit chat.
âOh. Hello, young man. Yes, itâs holding up, I must say, better than the rest of me. How are you getting on with your pupillage.â
âOh, mustnât grumble,â was all I could muster. Well I guess, it was still morning and I was feeling particularly worried about TheBoss bringing me down.
âThat bad is it? Some things donât change I see. I remember in the days before I care to remember, we were doing between five and ten pleas in mitigation a day and all for half a guinea…â He tailed off as if he hadn’t quite finished.
âIs that half a guinea pig or half a guinea fowl, my lord?â
As I uttered the words, I realised it just wasnât my morning. Of course he wasnât paid in either rodents or birds. One day, Iâm going to manage a serious conversation with this great man.
July 26, 2007
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Tim Kevan ¡
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ahh… perhaps BabyB has soul afterall.
Half a guinea was 10/6, and if that leaves you none the wiser, have you never read a novel written before 1969? Or half-heard a racing report?
As a pupil, Old Father Time was paid about what a skilled craftsman might be paid for a day’s work.