The moving 'pen' writes and having writ moves.....um.....on...and so forth.

 

‘You’re a funny old poop guv.’

‘And good morning to you Bing.’

‘Well I mean to say, I make all this effort to come and visit, and by use of my winsome charm, so tempt and distract you…..and if all others fail……cajole, nay inveigle you from your inertia, up and out into the awaiting day, and all you do is sit there scratching at that bit of paper!’

Not for the first time have I the feeling that although he insists my old Roget's Thesaurus is no more than a convenient step up onto the ‘viewing chair’ in the study, there’s a lot more to it.

‘As it happens Bing I was um er……’

‘Shuffling paper guv?’

‘I was actually looking for a ruler, when I discovered this old Shaeffer pen, nestling amidst boxes of staples to staplers I know longer have (I think) treasury tags, reinforcement rings and assorted labels.’

‘Blimey guv, it’s an blooming Aladdins cave of stationery wotsits you have in them there drawers…..and such.’

‘M’mmmm.’

‘So what’s this shaver all about then?’

‘Shaeffer? Ah yes well, back in the old day’s………’

‘Don’t tell me….when you were a boy?’

‘Indeed, Bing I once was a boy.’

‘Well I’m not one to quibble, but frankly old poop its blooming hard to believe you were ever a boy…..’

‘Nevertheless Bing I was!’

‘M’mmmm.’

‘At school having mastered the pencil, we moved on to the pen and ink. These were what we called dip-in pens with ink-wells.’

‘Not quills?’

‘NO! Bingo I’m not that old!.’

‘Keep yer mop on guv, if you say so.’

‘I do young Bing, I most definitely do. Now where was I?’

‘Dipping your pen in an ink thingy…..’

‘Well.’

‘Whatever guv.’

‘Um….well eventually, I graduated to a fountain pen, probably a Parker, or a Platignum.’

‘You’ve lost me guv, but carry on.’

‘I don’t think I ever had a Shaeffer, but this is mighty fine, so I’m just about to fill it full of ink and see if it still writes.’

‘I see.’

‘Ink…..ink…I know I’ve got some somewhere. Ah here we are I’ve got Quinck Royal Blue, or Stephens’…….Green.’

‘Cor green ink guv, why have you got that?’

‘Do you know, I have no idea at all.’



‘Now there’s a surprise.’

‘Right so I pull this little lever out and….yes it’s sucking ink up inside itself.’

‘Fascinating guv.’

Is there a hint of irony in the lads voice?

‘Now lets see if it still writes……..Oh yes, look at that it’s as smooth as anything……..’

‘Dear Bing, this is a note to you, showing the delights of using a quality pen. I think you can’t fail to be impressed by it’s ability to glide effortlessly across………..’

‘Oh blast it’s poured ink all over the page….’

‘Blimey guv your fingers are covered in ink-well, and such.’

‘Must be a cross-nib.’

‘It probably is angry guv, you haven’t used it in years!’

I debate whether to explain further, but frankly soap and water seem more important just now.

‘So that’s why it’s called a fountain pen old poop.’

‘M’mmm?’

‘Well it cascaded over that page like a good’un.’

‘U'mmm.......’

‘I guess it’s back to the pencil for you guv?’

I receive a wink, and the lad receives a snack or two!

The pen returns to its former position, nestling amidst……….