A Donkey in the Meadow

A Donkey in the Meadow

Language: English

Pages: 157

ISBN: 0722183763

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

The fourth title in the Minack Chronicles tells the story of how Derek and Jeannie acquired two donkeys, Penny and Fred. From the first steps and learning all about donkey foibles, through to picnics in the meadows, this is a further charming instalment in the tales of the Tangye's life at Minack.

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House vessel, the Stella, a Dutch tug which was spending the winter in Mount’s Bay at a second’s readiness to speed for salvage, a Fishery Protection boat and, close to the cliffs, as if they were searching the inlets, were the two lifeboats. The Sennen, which had been out since the beginning, the Penlee, which had been out since half past six. I looked over towards the Carn. The group which had set out from Minack were straddled around it. I saw no urgency in their movements. There did not

like all disasters, has a morbid fascination for those who live safe lives. They heaped themselves on the cliffside, little groups staring in silence, breaking it occasionally to ask the lone policeman, incongruous in helmet, some question he had already answered many times before. Below them, like a whale in its death throes, the object of their entertainment floundered in the waves, sea spouted from the broken windows of the wheelhouse, a rope flopped about the deck, a bell clanged uselessly;

undergrowth, turn back or become angry, their standardised minds piqued that they have to trace a way through; and it is left to the few, the odd man or woman, to marvel that there is a corner of England still free from the dead hand of the busybody. ‘Here, on our stretch of the coast, man has not yet brought his conceit.’ For some years there had been murmurs about erecting a small, harbour-type light and fog signal near Lamorna Cove to act like a street lamp for the benefit of local fishermen

would fly and swoop over my head, alight on a boulder a few yards ahead of me, then surge into the sky again when I reached him. Knocker and Squeaker were more opportunist. They would parade the apex of the roof day after day, and in the winter would squat side by side on the chimney, content with its warmth. When they were hungry, if we had failed to attend to their needs, Squeaker would squeak and Knocker would bang on the roof with his beak. Many a time he has deceived us into thinking there

this remark sounded biased. What about a horse or a cow? Wouldn’t they eat up the garden if they were given a chance? Jack was leaning on his shovel, amused, delighting in his mission to discomfort me. ‘Ah,’ he said knowingly. ‘A horse or a cow can be kept in a field, and it’s only bad luck if it gets out. But a donkey! You can’t keep a donkey loose in a field. It’ll get out. It’ll jump a fence or a wall, and go roaming all over the district. And it’ll be eating up other people’s gardens

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