A Lowtown 'Poacher' and his companion!

If you happened to be toddling along a particular path; enjoying the sights and sounds of this corner of England the other day; you may well have spotted a chap staring into space, accompanied by a hound trundling about the close vicinity, inspecting the surrounds.

I’m pretty sure, around this dear old world, such events also happen, and are not particularly remarkable.

However, IF you had by chance stumbled upon this particular scene, you might well have been slightly disturbed, as these companions appeared to be in deep conversation, and completely unaware of your presence.

Sensibly, you may well have decided to give this pair a wide birth, and continue on your jaunt.   IF however, you were naturally inquisitive by nature, and desirous of further knowledge of this event, you would naturally have found a suitable spot and observed the following……..

‘Are you sure guv?’

‘Well Bing, I know I had ‘em when we started out.’

‘M’mmm. Guv, as you well know I’m not one to caste nasturtiums.’

‘Aspersions Bing.’

‘Whatever. But it has to be said your mind easily wanders and it’s quite possible you might have nibbled on one, and then having got the taste for ‘em chomped on the rest!’

‘Bingo, this is too much. I can be accused of many things, but partaking of a pals treats, is most definitely not one of them.’

 

From your safe spot you would have noticed the gent, this time carefully checking each pocket in the coat, removing various bits and pieces. This manoeuvre was repeated with the jacket beneath and then the trouser pockets as well. Meanwhile the hound had trotted around the tree stump the aged guv sat upon and, snuffling around a particular patch addressed his companion.

‘Might this be what you’re looking for guv?’

‘Good heavens Bing how did that drop out of my poachers pocket?’

‘Poachers pocket? Cor you live in another world! The only poaching you do old poop, is with an egg!’

　
‘Bingo, I am not entirely inefficient in pursuit of the old culinary delights and so forth.’

‘And such like?’

‘Quite.’

After this brief exchange, you would have spotted the dogs tail wagging, as treats were received. After this the aged poop went through a repeat performance of pocket patting routine, this time producing the familiar green tube known as ‘Polo’s the mint with a hole.’

And there I think we'll leave them, both happily munching and contemplating the rest of their stroll. Whilst dear reader, having got this far.....you wonder what all that was about!