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Tales From Tadpole

By Jason Mundy

It was surprising how village life changed in Tadpole from the day that Horace Moonglow set up home within the small screen of scrubby bushes, on a piece of waste ground attached to the Golden Lion, public house.

As anyone could tell from his unkempt beard and ragged clothes, Horace Moonglow was a tramp, but more than that, he was a king, a king of the road and expected to be treated as such. Not for him the begging bowl and scrounging a crust of bread. He would demand, and usually get anything his huge paunch requested. In return, anybody that dropped by to pass the time of day at his little green tent, would be offered a generous bowl of stewed meat and vegetables from the steaming cast iron pot that hung above the glowing embers of his open fire. And while the visitors ate, Horace would regale them with Shakespearian quotations, lessons on how to catch and cook hedgehogs or even sing to them in a deep but melodic voice.
That was until the day that Bengie, the publican's springer spaniel disappeared and Aggie Oldcroft, Horace's most welcome visitor declared that the stew tasted, in her own words, "Absolutely delicious."

Rumours spread, and a count was taken of all the animals that had gone missing in the village since Horace had set up residence. There was Ferdinand, the postmistress's Great Dane, 'Moses', Charles, Gwendoline Merryweather’s Red Setter from Allonby Hall, three cats, one of whom was the prize possession of Aggie Oldcroft herself, the budgerigar that had swung in its cage in Mrs. Dixon's fish and chip shop and two Fox hounds from the local hunt. Not only did this count give rise to an abnormal incidence of indigestion, it also fuelled the fire concerning the rumours about Horace Moonglow's special stew.
And so it was decided that a meeting should be called in the village hall and for this purpose the pub was closed on Thursday evening at seven thirty.

Charlie Goldstraw, licensee of the Golden Lion, being the one to officially call the meeting was unanimously elected chair-person and sat himself at a table on the small stage at one end of the hall. This was quite convenient as it was situated close to the toilets and suited Charlie Goldstraw's water works problems very well. After waiting for everyone to sort themselves out a seat he hammered his table with one fist. Silence ensued, "Ladies and Gentlemen," he began. He cast his eyes around the room. "And vicar," he added courteously. "We've got a decision to make. Someone is taking our animals and without wishing to prejudge the affair, we all know who that person is." He looked around the hall again, almost daring anyone to contradict him. A flapping hand was held aloft. "Yes Vicar?" The hand was dropped and wrapped around the Yorkshire terrier on the vicar's lap.
"I.. I'm sorry, but I don't just think we can accuse the man." he realised Charlie was glaring from the stage and looked towards his feet. "Can we? I mean, it says in the bible.."
"There was a crash as the door was thrown back. "It says in the bible that man cannot live on bread alone." Horace Moonglow's eyes shone fiercely from above his thick beard, fixing everyone in his glare as if daring them to murmur or even gasp in surprise. Then turning to Charlie he slowly looked him up and down. "I presume I'm invited to this meeting, you seem to have invited everyone else."
"Well.. It.. it." Charlie gestured frantically to the other villagers, pleading for support.
"I take it I can stay then." Horace shut the door quietly behind him and faced the assembly. "I stand here accused," he began solemnly, "of killing your pets, cooking them in my stew pot and serving them up to my friends when they call." He observed Aggie for a few seconds and watched her trying to hide behind the large frame of Mrs. Goldstraw. "You Aggie, do you really think I'd serve you Moggie soup with your love for such animals. No," he said, "Why should I. Has anyone accused Charlie? yet he's renowned for his meat pies. And has anyone accused Mrs. Dixon of serving the real thing in her hot dogs? I think not. And with that ladies and gentlemen, I rest my case." He made to sit down.
"Just where do you get your meat," Charlie began to recover his composure. "Rats of course," the king of the road replied. "That's why I came here in the first place, there's plenty of 'em around the back of your pub, I'll tell you. Really fat and tasty they are." He made to sit down again, but as Charlie ran from the stage with a handkerchief clasped over his mouth and disappeared into the toilets, he thought better of it and quietly opened the door and left the meeting.