The Mustress Launches An Investigation

There seems to be some confusion about the New Hens at the moment. The Robbing Butcher is, as ever, keeping his cards close to his chest, but the village in general is puzzled.

Yesterday, the Robbing Butcher announced that he had obtained some more New Hens. Well, that’s a good thing, surely – after all, the New Hens do lay the largest, most delicious eggs.

But there was consternation about the fate of the previous New Hens. Had the Robbing Butcher sold them as fake turkeys at Christmas time? Or, indeed, made them into chicken pies? The Robbing Butcher does sport a sign on his wall which says “Unaccompanied Children Will Be Made Into Pies”, so it is entirely possible that the New Hens have suffered the same fate, and are now the Late New Hens.

The Mustress decided to investigate. Donning a disguise, she crept into the back yard of the Robbing Butcher’s shop, armed with an up-to-date phone (for evidential purposes) and approached the New Hens, trying to discover if they were NEW New Hens, or just the OLD New Hens.

Eventually, since hens do tend to resemble one another, the Mustress had to abandon her investigations, and returned to Mhor Cottage, where Mr. Mhor was again pretending to do the hoovering (one day I shall catch him asleep at his post).

“Did you get any photos?” asked Mr. Mhor, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow, and trying to hide his beer cans.

“I did”, I said, “but all hens look alike, so I cannot tell if there has been any skullduggery.”

Mr. Mhor made a conciliatory cup of tea for his beleagured wife, put the hoover away, opened another can of beer and said, “Do you think it’s too cold to sit on the love seat at the moment?”

As there was no reasonable answer to this question, the Mustress snorted and composed another thread for the village Facebook page, of which more later.

Eventually, dear readers, the Mustress will get to the bottom of all this. Never fear.

Published by themustressmhor

Retired Nurse and Midwife, living in Middle of Nowhere, Argyll, Scotland.

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