‘Let [1] me have my inheritance,’ asked the son, but with considerable spin, [3] and not in a fair way [2]. He was one of a dozen workers, some of whom would just pitch [2][3][4] up casually.
He smiled, making the most of his dimples [2].
‘Why the deuce [1] would I do that?’ his father declared [3], making a silly point [3] in an attempt to draw [1][2][3] it all out [3].
‘Consider it a backhander [1]… Just put [2] it in [3] my hand. Gimme! [2] I don’t want you to pin [2] me down, pater, no!’
Ster[4]nly his father calculated his wealth. ‘Six, four, six, four, seven, six, six, one [1]… that’s forty [1] shekels, net [1][4].’
‘Which makes what? 25 for 1 [3] of your sons (my older brother), while I’m entitled to fifteen [1]!’
‘Love [1] you, my boy,’ said the father, sadly. ‘Bye [1][2][3].’
A little while later the son walked [3] over [3] the boundary [3] and took two, four [3], six [3] steps and was soon away down a gully [3] towards a foreign land.
He was somewhat green [2] but appealed [3] to several first class [3] singles [1],[3] – he knew how to bowl a maiden over [3]. One was quite a catch [3][4], with long leg[3]s and, when he lead [4], some followed on [3], but not one of them was a keeper [3]. So he started to spoon [2] with them, making googly [3] eyes, ordering doubles [1]. But he was on a bit of a sticky wicket [3].
After a while his wedge [2] had run out [3], and there was nothing to eat and nothing to drink – not even Robinson’s Lemon Barley Water [1].
He was starting to fade [2] and his smile didn’t seam [3] such a beamer [3]; he felt as hungry as an albatross [2], and looked after pigs, longing to eat their pods – even though they were a bit mashie [2], covered with flies [4] and marked with bogies [2].
There were worms [4] and maggots [4] and they didn’t seem to have come from a glasshouse-equipped nursery. End [3] of the day came, and he dismissed [3] the idea, although he was absolutely stumped [3]; he lost a lot of weight [4] and ended up considerably less wide [3].
He thought of home. He knew there were XI [3] hired hands, (without him they would be handicapped [2]) and he could be the twelfth man [3], well capable of using a broom to sweep [3], or to scratch [2] at the soil with a hook [2][3][4].
He decided to bail [3], to leg [3] it, and, even though it was a long slog [3], approach [1],[2] the farm again.
Although he was still a fair way [2] out [1][3], on [3] the offside [3] (beyond the tramlines [1]) and padding up [3] the path, his dad saw him. His night-watchman [3] attitude was far from driving [2] the boy away, and he’d kept using his Twenty 20 [3] vision, despite the bad light [3]. He ran at medium pace [3] to greet him.
He said ‘Ace [1]! This is the best day since my boy went! Worth [2] making a few sacrifices, now, certainly… slip [3] a ring onto his finger, give him a coat that covers [3] him and some shoes (replacing this worn out pair – look, he’s got a hole in one [2] of the soles) for extra cover [3].
‘Now, kill Niblick [2] the Calf and swing [2][3] the hatchet to make the cut [2] again and again; flag [2] up a par[2]ty! Iron [2] my suit – give the trousers a sharp crease! [3] Burn some wood [2] (this might create Ashes)! [3]
‘Yes, set [1] up silver service [1]… we shall have game [1] pie, fish [4] and fry [4] a chip [1][2] or two. And we could serve [1] lob[1]ster as an extra [3] course [2] – oh, plus some roast duck [3]!
‘And a big slice [1][2] of oval [3] cake, with a cup [1][2][3][4] of tee [2] brewed with leaves cast [4] in from the caddie. [2] Use the best crockery – yes, the china.
‘Man, [3] we can have a ball! Boy [1] of mine had crossed the line [4] but by the Lord’s [3] mercy is found; he was food for worms [4] (which was rough, [2] since we had no trace [4] of his whereabouts) but has managed to rally! [1] Keep it reel!’ [4]
[1] Tennis ( 26) [2] Golf (34) [3] Cricket (57) [4 ] Angling (18)
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