Today, the Mustress sent Mr. Mhor to the Robbing Butcher’s shop with a list of essential items for the fridge at Mhor Cottage. Obviously, our supplies of meat and dairy products for breakfast have to be maintained. The Mustress is nothing if not methodical.
The list included circular square sausage, Stornoway black pudding, yet more fruit pudding for Mr. Mhor, and eighteen eggs (from the Even Newer New Hens).
Mr. Mhor set off, noticing as he ambled along the village street that there were a large number of holiday-makers in the place, many of them carrying quantities of alcoholic beverages. Doubtless Mr. Mhor looked wistfully at these people, despite knowing perfectly well that there were several cans of lager in the section of the store cupboard designated by the Mustress for the safe-keeping of alcohol at Mhor Cottage. If Mr. Mhor had considered the matter in any depth he would also have recalled that there were a few bottles of gin and sherry jostling for position next to the beer.
Mr. Mhor entered the Robbing Butcher’s shop and was disappointed to note that there was an obvious dearth of eggs on the shelves. He obtained the circular square sausage, Stornoway black pudding, fruit pudding and two steaks (which were not for breakfast, but which the Mustress required for dinner that evening) and, after paying, made to exit the shop.
“No eggs?” queried the Robbing Butcher.
“You haven’t got any” pointed out Mr. Mhor.
“Yes, I have – plenty of them – those damn tourists keep buying them, faster than the Even Newer New Hens can lay them – so I put some aside, for my best customers.”
Mr. Mhor preened. The infamous Robbing Butcher had just referred to him as a “best customer.” Gratefully, he took possession of eighteen eggs.
Mr. Mhor returned to Mhor Cottage, with the eggs and a ludicrously proud smile on his face.