Re-blog: A love story, part four. Graciously rattling the collection bucket

Please enjoy this curious story.
Made me smile broadly πŸ™‹β€β™€οΈπŸ

Tallis Steelyard

A love story, part four. Graciously rattling the collection bucket

Not everybody is lucky enough to discover their vocation immediately. Whereas I was obviously doomed to be a great poet, others often vacillate between any number of options. Indeed some people don’t so much discover their calling as have it thrust upon them.

Hindle Walbarrow is perhaps a good example of just how life can lead a chap down strange paths. Indeed, just to recount the story of Hindle, I have had to lead you, gentle reader, down many strange byways. Still let us now turn our beneficent gaze upon young Hindle and his career. In spite of total apathy on the part of his mother, and total absence on the part of whoever performed the duties of becoming his father, Hindle was a pleasant youth. Indeed it might be said that he brought himself up well. He discovered early on that he had a facility for numbers. In happier…

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